All week, the days had continued turning out much warmer than was normal for September. Every morning, Geneva dressed for cool weather, and by fifth period, she was so hot she could hardly think.
The minute she arrived home from school, she stripped off her sweater and jeans and pulled on shorts and a tank top. She wanted to go for a bike ride, but that wasn’t allowed until Alice’s killer was arrested. After all these months, she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. She wondered if her parents would ever let her ride her bike again.
She went into the family room and turned on the TV. She was supposed to be doing homework, but this was her only chance to watch reruns of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown without her parents getting all wound up about her dreaming of travel experiences that she wasn’t ready for. She loved watching Tony meet interesting people, taste amazing food, and talk about life in places she’d never seen. The world was so huge, so amazing. Thinking of all the countries she wanted to visit, all the things out there to learn, all the people she could meet, made her heart ache. Knowing it was possible to have friends all over the planet was absolutely mind-blowing. She could make friends who weren’t as cliquish and narrow-minded as the kids she knew at school.
Beside her on the couch, her phone buzzed. She picked it up.
Faith: I haven’t seen you in ages. How about I come over so we can catch up?
Geneva: I guess. I’m watching Parts Unknown.
Faith: I was going to say—or you can come here, but I LOVE that show. On my way.
Faith arrived with a small bag of miniature Tootsie Rolls, cheddar-cheese-flavored popcorn, and a six-pack of soda.
“Wow,” Geneva said. “We have snacks, you know.”
“Not as good as these.” Faith grinned.
Geneva stared at Faith’s large, luminous eyes and smiled. Faith sure was in good shape for all the unhealthy snacks she ate. Geneva could already feel her mouth watering. She hadn’t had a Tootsie Roll in such a long time.
They settled beside each other on the couch, losing themselves in the sights and sounds of Tokyo. They ate and snacked without talking, which seemed odd, because Faith had wanted to catch up. Geneva couldn’t think of anything she wanted to say, so she tried to keep her attention on the show.
As the opening credits for the next episode appeared on the screen, Geneva picked up her phone. There was an alert for new photos posted by Becca on Instagram. She opened her phone and clicked on Becca’s latest post.
What the hell?
The images showed Becca and two other girls from dance class, girls she’d thought until this very moment were also good friends. They weren’t her, hopefully, best friends, like Becca, but definitely in the first tier. The three of them were lying on the bed in Becca’s room, their shoulders and heads hanging over the edge, making faces for the selfie. There were eight photos, and by the time Geneva swiped to the last one, she knew they’d had a sleepover and hadn’t invited her. It was obvious from the floor covered with clothes and flip-flops, sleeping bags, and pillows, empty chip bags, and a bathroom counter littered with makeup and a hair dye kit. That last item told her it had happened last weekend, because Monday, Tracy had shown up at school with the ends of her hair dyed hot pink.
Tears rushed to Geneva’s eyes—embarrassing, childish, pitiful tears.
Before she blinked them away, she sensed Faith’s attention on her. She couldn’t turn her head and look. She wasn’t sure why, maybe because she really didn’t know her that well, she couldn’t bear to have Faith see her crying, again.
“Are you okay?” Faith asked.
Geneva nodded.
Faith stood. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Geneva pointed toward the kitchen. “Through there, turn right at the entryway, and it’s between my bedroom and my parents’ room.” She knew her voice was trembling, and was overcome with gratitude when Faith nodded and walked out of the room without staring at her face or asking again if she was okay.
Knowing it would make her feel worse, but almost relishing the pain, as if she were one of those girls who cut her skin to somehow distract herself from the pain, she went to the profile of each girl at the party. She tapped through all the photos each one had posted from last weekend.
Her tears dried, and she felt a hard cord of hatred coiling through her. She heard the toilet flush, the water running in the bathroom. Faith would be back any minute, but still she couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t stop feeling the repeated sharp cuts at her heart.
As if that wasn’t masochistic enough, she began scrolling back through each girl’s recent history to look for images she might have missed, or photos she hadn’t realized at the time were from events where she’d been left out.
After several minutes, she finally stuffed the phone between the couch arm and the seat cushion. The next travel show was running, and she hadn’t heard a single word. She wasn’t even sure where it was located.
Faith was taking an awfully long time. What was she doing?
Geneva stood. She retrieved her phone and looked at the screen, hoping for something from Becca, an invitation that told her she’d somehow gotten it all wrong. She laughed at the ridiculous thought. No message was coming, and there was no message that would make her feel better.
Finally, Faith appeared in the kitchen. She had her purse over her shoulder.
Geneva felt her phone vibrate. She looked down and saw more notifications.
“I should leave you alone so you can chat with your friends,” Faith said.
Geneva shrugged. She felt the tears trying to work their way out again, and she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“Hang in there, sweetie.”
Geneva nodded.
Faith gave her a little wave and left. A moment later, the front door opened and closed. Geneva turned off the TV and went into her room. She slammed the door, just because it felt good, and plugged in her earbuds. She found some heavy metal music on YouTube. Normally, she hated that stuff, but now, she needed something that would drown out all the other noises in her head. She needed music that would echo her rage.