Page 110 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

“Why not?”

“For the same reason I wouldn’t want him telling people why I was there. It isn’t anyone’s business.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it before leaning forward. Clearly, she wants to say something but is doing a horrible job at hiding it.

“What?”

Clasping her hands together on top of the counter, she looks over at me. “I want to make sure you’re hanging out with the right people.”

Slowly, I set the can down. “Are you serious?”

She looks so dumbfounded that my anger spikes.

“So, because he was at Hopewell, that makes him questionable in your eyes?”

“No, I mean—”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I snap, “News flash, I was there too—twice! So, what are you saying? That everyone’s parents should question if I’msuitableenough to be friends with their kid?”

“No, that isn’t what I’m saying.”

“That’sexactlywhat you’re saying.” I can’t control my frustration as it pours out of me. “You are the wrong woman to be judging when it wasyouwho sent me there.”

“Harlow,” she scolds harshly, standing from her seat, but I’m already halfway to the stairs. “Harlow, get back here.”

“Just leave me alone.”

As soon as I hit my room, I slam the door, pick up my phone, and call Sebastian, only to be reminded that his cell is dead when his voicemail picks up. I toss it without leaving a message as my other hand starts aggravating me. Clenching my teeth, I swallow against the storm of emotion that threatens to erupt and begin banging my palms together as I try to diminish the rampant needling.

HARLOW

It’s utter mayhem when I walk into the school. Excitement surrounds as everyone reunites with friends they haven’t seen since the last school year ended. Girls squeal, guys high-five, and lockers slam. The noises bleed together to ignite my anxiety as I keep my head down and make my way to class.

“Hurry it along,” a teacher calls out, but no one pays her any attention.

Pushing my way up the stairs, I almost get knocked into a couple who’s making out. I have no clue who they are since they’re practically eating each other’s faces, but they are oblivious to the chaos around them.

When I walk into my first class, I find an inconspicuous seat in the back row. Since it’s the first day and there really isn’t anything to busy myself with, I pull out a notebook and pretend to be preoccupied as all the desks start filling up.

After the morning announcement and attendance call, the teacher actually goes around the room and has us stand up one by one to introduce ourselves and tell the class something fun that we did over the summer.

“So, I’ll start. Hi, my name is Mrs. Caldwell,” she says enthusiastically. “I just graduated from U-Dub last year, and the most fun thing I did this summer was getting married.” She flashes her sparkly ring as I try to hide my ick face.

She smiles as she goes around the room and listens to everyone. The closer it gets to my turn, the more stressed I become. My palms are actually sweating, and the back of my neck is burning with anxiety. Needles prick along my skin, and when she points to me, I cringe before I push out of my seat, keeping my eyes glued to the teacher to avoid having to see the entire class staring at me. My heart pounds, rattling my voice when I speak.

“I’m Harlow, and I spent part of my summer in Miami.” I lie to fit everyone else’s comments about their vacations.

“What about you,” Mrs. Caldwell says, pointing to the next kid as I take a seat and try to calm my rampant heart rate.

I sit through the rest of the hour, listening to the teacher talk about what projects we will be doing, how she grades, and blah, blah, blah.

I already know that Sebastian will be in my next class, which is senior English—it’s the only class we share this year. A part of me is nervous to see him when the bell rings, but another part of me is comforted. It’s a weird combination that has me on pins as I walk and find him already sitting a few rows from the front. My heart double-beats when he looks up at me as I make my way down one of the aisles, eventually selecting a seat a few back from his.

In a twisted way, I kind of miss Hopewell. We didn’t have to hide there because I was safe from ridicule, unlike here. The only person I had to worry about was Kevin, but after he and Sebastian got into that fight, Kevin never really messed with me again.

A couple of guys walk in, clap hands with Sebastian, and claim the desks around him, but when Emily files in, she glares in his direction, strides past him, and takes the empty seat next to me, which was the last thing I expected.

“Dude,” one of his friends says while laughing and then slugs him in the arm.

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