“Wake up late today, Brit?”
Her head came up on a horrified gasp, and I saw some kind of … weeping rash crawling its way across her cheek—virulent red pustules topped with yellow crust—more than just a breakout, a staph infection on crack. Tears glimmered in her blue eyes, so swollen that I guessed she’d been crying for hours. I couldn’t bring myself to say a single mean thing, but Russ had that covered.
He recoiled in a move so violent he almost knocked down a passing freshman. “What the hell happened to your face?”
“An allergic reaction,” she said miserably. “I used a clarifying mask last night, and my skin puffed up a little. By morning … it was like this. My mom made me an appointment with my dermatologist for tonight, but she wouldn’t let me skip since I have cheerleading practice today.”
“Yeah, because everyone wants to see that”—Russ gestured at her face and body indicating the big picture—“prancing around. Do us all a favor, get out of sight until your face-sore heals up.” He cocked his head. “Huh. In those sweats, you look ass-heavy, too. What did you eat this summer, Brit? Your family?”
I should’ve been elated when tears spilled down her cheeks and she whirled, plunging down the hall in a mad dash to hide in the bathroom. Now she knows how it feels. But instead my insides boiled, even though I hadn’t done anything to cause this. Shame froze me because I hadn’t stopped Russ from saying any of those awful things. I could’ve spoken up, but I just stood there like a lump.
Incredibly, insanely, he was grinning at me. “Wow, she says meaner shit than that every day, then a little choice truth, and she’s a whimpering mess. Weak, huh?”
“I hope the doctor can help her.” To my surprise, I wasn’t playing a part; I meant it. Looks meant a lot to Brittany, and while I didn’t like her, I hated seeing her so shamed. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I’d expected.
“You’re too nice. You should hear what she says behind your back.”
That didn’t surprise me. Last year, she said it to my face. Frowning, I dodged into my Lit class early, mostly to get away from Russ, who I wanted to kick. A lot.
“You look tired, Edie. Is everything all right?”
I swung around to see Colin propped artfully against his desk. God, everything he did seemed so … studied, like he was constantly posing. There were already a few girls sitting dreamily at their desks, and I wished he’d care about their mental and emotional well-being instead. I arranged my stuff, ignoring him until he turned away. It seemed too soon for him to be invested in me as a student, which left a couple of possibilities. He was keeping track of me for Wedderburn … or Dwyer & Fell. Though he wasn’t as beautiful as Kian, he was attractive enough for me to credit that he’d asked for that face.
You know what they say about those who think random people are involved in a conspiracy and plotting against them. Crazy town.
Putting aside that fear, I focused on my morning classes. Somehow I managed not to fall asleep, though I certainly wasn’t performing up to last year’s standards. I’d be lucky to pull As if I kept this up. There might even be minuses. My parents would be appalled. Sadly, I wasn’t joking.
“Have you seen Brittany today?” Jen asked, catching up halfway to the cafeteria.
“Yeah, before first period. She looks rough.”
“I guess she’s been hiding in the bathroom most of the day. The headmaster called her mother out of some charity thing to come and get her. Brit was crying her head off when her mom yanked her out of there.”
This was the exactly what I would’ve wished on Brittany, a few weeks back. Yet there was no delicious schadenfreude, only a sick sort of regret, tinged in dread. I just talked about this with Kian. And Wedderburn offered to get revenge for me. What if he won’t take no for an answer?
As we went into the cafeteria, Jen changed the subject, probably seeing that I was uncomfortable. She was trying really hard to make it right, what happened last winter. Unfortunately, there was no way to wipe the slate, and while I appreciated her efforts, I still didn’t trust her. Vi was my only real friend, untainted by the shit splattered over the rest of my life. I recalled how easily Wedderburn had drawn her into his web and I shivered; there was no way I’d let anything happen to Vi.
Brittany didn’t come to school the rest of the week, but nobody knew why until Friday. At our usual table during lunch, Allison delivered the news in a hushed whisper, as if she didn’t intend to repeat it later. Gossip was the water of life to her.
“Her mom told me she’s in the hospital,” Allison confided.
This news should be coming from Cameron, still her boyfriend so far as I knew. But apparently his interest didn’t stretch past a bad skin condition. He wore a bored look, one that rekindled my desire to see him suffer. I wondered if he’d bothered to return Brit’s texts or visit her, though I guessed probably not.
“What’s the matter with her?” Jen asked.
Russ smirked. “She’s got a serious case of butterface. I think it might be terminal.”
Allison hit him. “This is serious. She had some kind of skin infection, probably caused by bacteria, but Brit’s mom said the doctors aren’t sure, because the cultures weren’t like anything they’d seen. And now, she has, like … meningitis or something.”
“That’s potentially fatal,” I said, before I realized how it sounded.
Allison burst into tears and Cameron shot me a daggered look as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Way to go, dumbass.”
Her tears dried immediately. From my point of view, she looked a bit too pleased to be cuddled up with her best friend’s boyfriend, but I shut up. I was still an outsider, even if Russ and Jen liked me. The others talked quietly about putting together a gift basket and sending it to Brit’s room, but nobody mentioned checking on her, like, because she had a disease, and hospitals were gross, full of sick people and disgusting germs you could catch. Listening to them, I decided to go see Brittany after school.
I got the information from Jen and took the T to Park Station, then transferred to the Red Line. A few minutes later, I hopped off at Charles/Mass General station and walked the rest of the way, all while wondering to say when I saw Brittany. Nervous, I stopped by the gift shop and while I was browsing, my phone buzzed with a text.
Where are you? I came to pick you up but you never showed.
Aw. I’d run out much faster than usual, eager to break free of Blackbriar and the stultifying atmosphere. Last year, I’d loved my classes but hated my classmates. This year, it felt as if there was something wrong with the whole campus.
Deciding on a bear in a tiny hat, I paid for the plushie, then replied: I’m visiting someone at the hospital. Didn’t know you were coming to get me. Maybe you could work on your communication?
Funny, Kian answered. Unless I say otherwise, assume I’ll pick you up, okay?
Just like a real boyfriend, I sent back. That shouldn’t make me so happy because he came with a boatload of baggage, but it didn’t stop me from smiling as I pressed the elevator button. That silenced him, or maybe it was lack of signal. Remembering the rules from when Great-Aunt Edith died, I shut down my phone and put it away. After stepping off the elevator, I went to the desk. Jen had given me Brit’s room number, but I should probably make sure she wasn’t asleep or receiving treatment.