The Education of Hailey Kendrick - Eileen Cook [28]
“Leave it to me,” she said.
“What?”
“Trust me. I talked to Tristan right after the assembly. He’s not interested in talking to you right now.” She waved her hand in front of my face to stop me from saying anything. “I’ll talk to him for you. Try to smooth things over. He’s really hurt, and he doesn’t want you to see that. You know how he is.”
I nodded, chewing on my lower lip. I wanted a chance to explain, but it was quite likely he wasn’t interested in talking to me. It might be easier if she talked to him first, gave him a chance to calm down. “Would you do that for me? Explain how I feel terrible, and that it was just a onetime thing.”
“I’ll talk to him. You might want me to talk to a few other people too. Everybody’s pretty ticked about the restriction thing.”
“Did you hear what else? Winston put me on janitorial duty.”
“Gross. Why?”
“I’m supposed to be learning the importance of cleaning up my own messes.”
“I’d have my parents complain.”
“My dad thinks it’s a great idea. He’s still coming up with a punishment of his own.”
Kelsie shook her head sadly. “This situation is totally screwed.”
I wanted to throw my arms around Kelsie. It felt so good to talk to a friend, to feel like at least one person was on my side. “Thanks for talking to Tristan. It means a lot to me.”
Kelsie hitched her backpack up onto her shoulder. The bell was ringing to let us know there were only three minutes left. “Don’t thank me yet. I’ll talk to him, but I’m not sure it’s going to do any good.”
13
When I was a really little kid, I wanted to be invisible. I used to pretend that I had a magic cape that would make me disappear. I loved the idea of slipping in and around what was happening in the world and no one even knowing I was there. I would tie a pillowcase around my neck and slink around the house. My parents would play along, saying in loud voices: “Where has Hailey gotten off to? I don’t see her anywhere.” Then I would cover my mouth and giggle. Forget flying, or setting fires with my mind—I was convinced being invisible would be the best superpower ever.
Turns out being invisible sucks.
I used to say being popular wasn’t important to me. That was before I found out what it was like to be on the other side. Now I realized that being popular had come with significant advantages. The week dragged on—snide comments in the hall ways, my toothbrush knocked off the countertop onto the bathroom floor, no one saving me a seat in class or complimenting me on what I was wearing. The bubble of approval that used to surround me, people telling me how great I looked, laughing at my jokes, and agreeing with my views, was busted. What I noticed the most about my new status was how lonely I felt. I realized that before, I had almost never been alone. There was always someone calling out to me when I walked across campus, or stopping by my room to chat, or asking me for advice. If I went out, there was always someone who wanted to come along or a group that would beg me to join them. Now no one wanted me around.
I had never been so glad to see the weekend. All I wanted to do was hole up in my dorm room and pull my covers up over my head; instead I was following Joel to the administration building to begin the next stage of my humiliation.
Parked in front of the building was a beat-up red pickup truck. It looked like the only thing holding it together was the random bumper stickers that were plastered all over it. I’D RATHER BE SKIING. ADRENALINE IS MY DRUG OF CHOICE. FRODO FAILED. ELVIS HAS LEFT THE PLANET. There was dried mud sprayed across the side panels. A guy leaned against the truck reading a paperback. He was tall, at least six feet, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He seemed to be around my age, maybe a bit older. He looked like a surfer who had gotten very lost