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I was so close to crying I could taste tears on my tongue. “Keep the piece of junk.”
She snickered. “You know what else they say…One person’s junk is another one’s treasure.”
With that, she shoved the necklace into a back pocket of her new leather leggings before grabbing Lance’s hand. “Lancey, let’s get out of here. I think it’s time for my birthday cake.”
I watched as she led him out of the bathroom. Alone, overwhelmed with emotion, I heaved a couple of deep breaths, then locked the door before moving to the sink. I turned on the cold water and splashed some on my heated face. Reaching for one of the guest towels, I glimpsed myself in the mirror. My face was wet and wan. So much of me wanted to see a victorious warrior, but what I saw was a defeated soldier. Forlorn. Fatigued. Beaten down. I’d managed to steal Tanya’s laptop, but she’d managed to steal my boyfriend. It didn’t take a rocket scientist like my brother to figure out the winner.
Hot tears began to stream down my cheeks, mingling with the splatter of cool water on my face. Then, suddenly, between my legs, I felt a blast of wet heat. My period. Coming at me fast and furious. Could this night get any worse?
A few minutes later, I was in my pajamas, curled up into a ball, on my bed. I tried to cry myself to sleep, but it was futile. I’d never done that in my life, and though they say there’s a first time for everything, this wasn’t it. The sickening image of Lance and Tanya kept whipping around my brain. The party likely over, where were they now? And what were they doing? They’d already made it to third base—and with no one in the outfield to stop them, how hard would it be for Lance to score a home run?
At that thought, the tears fell harder. Faster. I’d foolishly saved myself for Lance. I’d probably be the only girl in my senior class to graduate with my V-card intact. I deserved my first big fat F for failing to lose my virginity. Inked in red like The Scarlet Letter.
I desperately needed to talk to someone. Unload. Not my brother, who wasn’t ready for matters of the heart at the still tender age of twelve. Or sadly not my mother, who seemed to care more about our evil exchange student than her own daughter. There was only one person.
My best friend, Fly.
Forcing myself out of bed, I stumbled over to my backpack and retrieved my phone. Then crawled back into bed. The phone in my hand, I was tempted to click on the spy cam app to see if Lance was in Tanya’s room, but with all the willpower I could muster, I refrained. I might be a loser, but I was done with being a masochist.
Snuggled under the comforter, propped up by a pile of pillows, I scrolled through my short list of contacts, passing Lance’s name. I paused and deleted it—Gone!—and made a mental note to block him, then continued until I got to my BFF’s name. With the tap of a finger, I speed-dialed her number.
Her phone rang and rang. Pick up, Fly! Please!
I was losing hope when she finally picked up and put the call to FaceTime. Despite how ghastly I must look, I accepted. When my face popped up on the screen, I almost didn’t recognize myself. My skin was blotchy. My hair disheveled. My eyes red and puffy.
“Sweetpea!” Her nickname for me. Just the sound of her husky, earthy voice made me feel better. She looked amazing. Sans makeup, in a Berkeley hoodie, the dark-skinned, six-foot-tall beauty could be a Vogue model with her high cheekbones, lush lips, and effervescent smile.
I admired her as much as I adored her. She never let her socio-economic background get her down; in fact, it propelled her. Her hardworking single mother had convinced her that with hard work, a good education, and determination, you could become anything you want. Rise above your circumstances. Rise to the top. One day she hoped to make a difference in the world. I knew that she would.
In her dorm room, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed. “I was just thinking about you. What’s up?”
I stayed silent. I could see her studying me.
“Girl, you look terrible!” Understatement. “Is everything okay?”
My bottom lip quivered, then I burst into tears. “Lance cheated on me.”
The words spilled out, running into each other.
Fly’s mahogany-brown eyes grew wide. “He slept with someone?”
“I—I’m not sure. I found him making out with that exchange student I told you about. She was half-undressed in the guest bathroom…and he was all over her.”
“Big yikes! I want to slap Lance and that girl. Let me at them!”
A tiny laugh broke through my tears. My bestie continued. “You know, Lance has always been a douche.”
“What do you mean?”
“Seriously? He’s so fake! Do you honestly think he took art history to learn about Rembrandt and Picasso?” She gave me an exasperated eye roll. “Forget it. He only took it so it would look good on his high school transcript, and he could meet girls.”
I never thought about that. That’s where we met. The truth is, he was the only straight boy in the class. The other, Gavin, was gay and aspired to be a curator.
“And this past summer in the Galápagos? Get ready for this…I know this chick at Berkeley who went on that program. Mr. Future Corporate Lawyer had no interest in exploring wildlife. Other than exploring her. He tried to get into her bikini bottoms, but she wanted nothing to do with his Komodo dragon tongue.”
At the mention of this betrayal, another rush of hurt whooshed through me. Then, I couldn’t help but laugh. That lizard image topped the washing machine. And was way more hilarious.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
