Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I remind myself that it’s better this way. I’d rather have a solid friend group than a boyfriend who could break my heart.
CHAPTER 2
FEE
Iglance over my shoulder, making sure I’m alone before I slide the printout from my portfolio bag and quickly tack it up between two large posters advertising the spring dance showcase and this semester’s production. Sometimes my prints stay up for only a day, sometimes a week or two. Eventually the proud thief will tag me on my socials, showing off the thoughtful placement in their dorm or apartment bedroom. The stickers I leave in secretive places, like the gender-neutral bathroom before a busy lecture. Those end up on binders and tablets and laptop covers.
It’s my little rebellion. The art I produce outside of the classroom is different. It is raw and emotional. It’s where I put all the feelings I don’t want my classmates to see. The little pieces of darkness that still live inside my heart after my parents died need a canvas, and a voice, and this feels safe.
I make a right down the next hall and duck into the women’s bathroom. Three stalls line one wall. I slip into the far empty one and add a new sticker to the underside of the purse holder, beside two others from previous months. I bite my lip as I read the comments around my lunar cycle collection. Last month I illustrated a rainbow-haired girl lying on her bed, cat functioning as a heating pad on her tummy, the comforter pattern swirling blue and red beneath her, and a maxi pad functioning as a sleep mask. The new one features a quarter moon with his eye cracked as an angsty teen pulls on his nightcap, her skirt made of rose petals dripping blood. Praise surrounds the previous months in shouty caps, hearts and exclamation marks.
I bet this is how Cammie feels when she posts a new fanfic chapter. Putting my art up anonymously, especially where I’m not supposed to, gives me a thrill. It’s my private signature, and no one can connect this version of me with the sister of one of the Terror coaches, Toronto’s professional hockey team.
I tack up three more posters, different from the bathroom art. These ones are comic book inspired; this month’s scene depicts a girl pining over a guy who never notices her, and the girl never notices the guy who isn’t her fixation, pining over her. Like the lunar cycle, this one is a series, too. Task finished, I slip out the back door of the drama building and head for the dining hall, where I’m meeting Cammie for dinner.
My heart does a pirouette and a stag leap when I spot her sitting with Mac at one of the many tables. He’s an unexpected and pleasant surprise.
I carry my tray over and take the seat next to Cammie, across from Mac. “How’s it going?”
Mac opens his mouth, but before he can speak, a girl plops down beside him. “Hey, Mac!” She turns to us. “Hi! I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Mac says smoothly.
I smile and pop a bite of my chicken pot pie in my mouth. Cammie gives the girl two thumbs-up.
She returns her attention to Mac. “Are you going to that big hockey gala thing?”
“Uh, yeah, probably.” Mac pokes at his bacon mac and cheese, eyeing it with the same longing that takes over my insides whenever I steal glances at him. My pining series might be slightly true to life.
“Do you have a date yet? My friend Chrissy is going with Lloyd. He just asked her yesterday. I’d really love to go. I hear it’s a lot of fun.” She bats her lashes and flips her hair over her shoulder.
It’s a smart strategy on her part. My stomach knots as we both wait for Mac’s reply. I shove the sharp jealousy down. Crushing on a guy in my friend group is a two thumbs-down situation. But Mac graduates at the end of the semester, and opportunity feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.
“Cool, cool. Lloyd’s a good guy. I haven’t made any decisions yet. But I’ll keep you in mind.” Mac winks.
The girl’s face lights up like a pinball machine. “Great!” She throws her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug. “I’ll see you at the game this weekend!”
“Sounds good.”
She flits off all smiles, with a bounce in her step and a shimmy in her hips.
Before Mac can take a bite of his meal, another girl comes over and asks the same question. As soon as she leaves, it happens again.
“You should probably just order salad, so you don’t have to worry about your food getting cold,” I say as he shoves a bite of tepid mac and cheese into his mouth and chews furiously.
He manages one more mouthful as girl four approaches. Mac adopts his megawatt smile while still chewing.