Page 76 of Belong With Me

This is a joke. I was trying so hard to be good, and everything is being taken from me anyway. I finally decided that school actually matters and that I want to take college seriously, and I’m getting kicked out. All I wanted was to be a normal teenager, and now not only does everyone know what happened in LA—and no doubt it has already spread all over the internet and ruined my life and any chances of anonymity—but I’m also being forced out of school. I’ve been kicked out of my house and school all in a matter of forty-eight hours.

Zia Stella must realize how upset I am, because she gives my arm a reassuring touch and says in her calm doctor voice, “We don’t have to decide anything at this very moment, right, Principal Anderson? Why don’t we take the day to think about it before deciding if being pulled from school is really the best option?”

The question is directed at me, but Principal Anderson is the one who relents. “All right. Take the week, and we can revisit the issue then. Hopefully, things will have calmed down, and it will be safe for Siena to return.”

That’s a bullshit answer that I see right through; I’m not going to be allowed back.

The realization travels through me in a burning rage. I can’t sit here any longer and let the resentment and irritation continue brewing, so I jump up and storm out of the office, not caring if I’ve been dismissed or not. It doesn’t matter; I’m not going to be allowed back anyway.

The secretaries jump to attention when I open the door, quickly going back to their computers as if they weren’t all wondering what was being said behind the closed door, and I stomp through the office.

“Siena!” Zia Stella chases after me, but I don’t stop until I’m in the hall. Kids are all in class, so it’s deserted, but Jason’s still there, leaning against the wall. He straightens when he sees me.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“I’ve been expelled!”

His jaw drops.“What?”

“She’s not expelled,” Zia Stella says, appearing by my side. “She’s taking the week off to let this blow over a bit.”

It’s not going to blow over in a week. People still talk about shit that happened years ago, and that’s small stuff like people streaking during a football game or planting a tree in the middle of the soccer field. It’s not going to blow over, and I’m not going to be allowed back.

“Yeah. Brandon releases the photo, and I get expelled.

Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Wait, what?” Zia Stella asks. I was so pissed I forgot she was still here.

I open my mouth to brush it off, but she beats me to it. “No, don’t ‘nothing’ me. Let’s get out of here and talk about it in the car.”

Her stern voice doesn’t leave room for argument, and I sigh. I tell Jason I’ll text him later and follow Zia Stella outside.

When we’re seated in her car, she turns her brown eyes on me, staring deep into my soul. “Tell me everything, Siena. From the beginning.”

We stare at each other for a long moment; the only noise is our breathing, the purring of the engine, and faint nature sounds coming in from my cracked-open window.

I don’t know if it’s that I’ve had an emotional morning or if I’m cracking from the pressure or if I’m sick of having to do everything on my own or if I just trust Zia Stella, but some part of my brain decides to open my mouth and confess the need-to-know things. I tell her I have Brandon’s phone because I’m convinced there’s evidence of Lily’s disappearance on it, that he broke in to steal it back but didn’t find it, that he threatened me with the picture if I didn’t return it, and that I forgot about it after what happened with Dario.

She listens intently, not objecting or giving anything away with her facial expressions. When I’m done, I take a breath and melt against the seat, feeling lighter even though I’ve just confessed to stealing Brandon’s phone and withholding information from her, which I know she hates.

Zia Stella doesn’t ask how I got Brandon’s phone or poke holes in my claims about him. She does, however, take a few moments to process before she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve come to me after what happened with your father, after Brandon threatened you with the photo.”

I shrug, suddenly feeling too hot in the small space despite my open window letting in the cold autumn air.

“Why would I have come to you?”

She looks like she wants to pull her hair out, and she raises her voice slightly. “Because you’re supposed to go to your parents with stuff like this!”

I can’t help the bitterness from leaking into my tone when I say, “I don’thaveparents. Florence is Florence, and Dario told me he hates me before he kicked me out.”

Zia Stella’s anger deflates instantly, and she’s quiet for a moment before saying, “You’re right.”

I don’t say anything else, and she seems lost in thought as she puts on her seat belt and drives us off school property.

“Where are we going?” I ask when she turns in the direction of Pinewood Street.

“I’m bringing you home.”

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