Page 127 of Faux Real
I knew it.
“I... uh—” Kennedy swallows, her face losing color. “I don’t um...”
“Check her purse,” a voice calls out.
I turn my head.Corrine.
Mrs. Patella eyes Kennedy’s bag. “Your purse, Miss Carmichael.” She holds out her hand. “Now, please.”
“But I—” Kennedy’s hands shake as she hands over her purse. “It’s not— I didn’t...”
Mrs. Patella walks over to Kennedy’s bed, dumping the contents of her purse on the mattress. A first aid kit. A hairbrush. Hand sanitizer. A pen. Paper. Lip gloss. And a mint tin.
The room is silent as Mrs. Patella reaches for the mints, her nails tapping the container as she pries it open.
I glance at Kennedy. Her eyes are dead. Lifeless. Nonexistent. Her body stunned. Frozen. Paralyzed. She’s empty. All her hopes, dreams, aspirations vanishing right before my eyes.
Mrs. Patella holds up a pill, reading the inscription. “Miss Carmichael, please come with me.”
Everything she’s worked for. Gone.
“It’s mine,” I say.
You can’t lose something if you have nothing to lose.
thirty-nine
Every Decision Matters
KENNEDY
Mylifeisover.
I’m going to get expelled. I’m going to have a big black mark on my permanent record. I’m not going to go to Harvard. I’m not going to go toanyschool. I’m going to be a failure. A disappointment. A poster child. They’ll talk about me for years. The bright mind that could’ve changed the world. The girl who could’ve had it all. The girl who could’ve been a star among comets.
My life is over and yet... I don’t feel anything. I should feelsomething. I should feel sad or worried or angry or anxious.
But I don’t.
“It’s mine,” Ollie says, his tone even, free of any doubt, any second thought. “Those are mine.”
“What are you doing?” I whisper, eyes wide as my gaze darts between Oliver and Mrs. Patella. “They’re—”
“She confiscated them from me earlier tonight,” he continues with a shrug, taking a step forward. “They’re mine.”
What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Is he insane? “Oliver—”
“No.” He looks over his shoulder, resolve in his eyes as he gives me a nod. “You don’t need to protect me, Kennedy. It’s fine.” He turns back to Mrs. Patella. “She was just about to turn me in.” A forced laugh. “Guess you beat her to it.” Ollie holds up his wrists. “To jail, I presume?”
I gawk at him, bewildered by his laissez-faire attitude. He’s laughing? Making a joke out of this? He’s going to get kicked out of school. He’s going to lose his internship. He’s going to lose everything. And for what? For me? He’s not thinking clearly. He’s not thinking at all.
“That’s not true,” I plead, rushing to Oliver’s side.
“Will you shut up, Kennedy?” Ollie raises his voice, shooting me daggers, his entire disposition darkening “I don’t need you to cover for me, okay? I can take care of my own problems, yeah?” With a locked jaw, he looks at Mrs. Patella. “What now?”
“Please follow me, Mr. Knight,” Mrs. Patella says, shaking her head in disappointment. What? “This trip is over for you. Let’s go!”
“No!” I exclaim frantically, my heart clenching in my chest as I follow Ollie and Mrs. Patella to the door, the gabbing whispers of my classmates whirling around me. “He’s lying to you! It’s mine! The pills are mine.”
