“It’s all over,” I said.
“What, the musical?” Chloe said on FaceTime an hour later. We hadn’t spoken since opening night, but this time I’d called her not to discuss my fabulous acting debut, but rather my horrible personal situation.
“No,” I said. “My life. My life is over.”
“What happened now?” Chloe asked. “Your dad won’t let you act anymore?”
“I almost wish that were my problem,” I said, and sighed heavily. “My secret blog got exposed.”
Chloe took a beat. “Ooooh,” she said. “Exposed where?”
“To the entire internet-connected world.”
Chloe looked more surprised than shocked. “Then why didn’t I see it?”
“Girl, you don’t know? No one sent you a link? Seems the entire universe got an email alert to this thing.”
I sent Chloe a link so she could see what I was talking about. She was quiet for a minute as she clicked through her emails and then onto the blog. Then she realized just how bad this was. “Girl. Girl! Oooooh, June…,” she said.
“I know,” I said.
“Dang, you really went in on Nia, huh?”
Nia was the one who got the brunt of my opinions, and I’d realized this. Anyone reading the blog would wonder why we were friends at all. “I didn’t want to hurt people’s feelings so…”
“So talking behind people’s backs was better?” Chloe continued.
I was getting my due punishment, no doubt about it, and justly. The whole school probably hated me. My parents would think I was horrible when they found out. (Thank God they weren’t big social media users….) Victoria wouldn’t lift the spell. I’d managed to burn my entire reputation with this blog.
Chloe read while she sat on FaceTime with me. She laughed. “Why are you hating on your math teacher so much?”
“All right, you can stop reading, geez!”
“What are you going to do?”
“Move in with you in California.”
“Running from your problems won’t help. Besides, that Victoria can appear anywhere. She’d just follow you.”
She was right about that. I was running out of options. And allies. I had offended just about everyone at school with that blog and I’d have to face them all eventually. But for now, I didn’t want to face anyone. Not even my family. Not even myself.
I didn’t leave my room all day. Mom was at the hospital, and after breakfast, Dad did yardwork for the whole day—he’d taken the day off so he could be home while I wasn’t in school. Luisa knocked on my door a few times, concerned, but I told her I didn’t need anything. I couldn’t get out from under my bedsheets. I was still hoping the sheets would swallow me alive and take me to another world where I didn’t have to face anyone from Featherstone Creek ever again.
My life at FCMS was over. No point in trying to show my face again. No one would care to see me. I had no friends, no social life, no future. Goodbye, Featherstone Creek. I should’ve started looking at other places to live. To start over. Like…Hollywood? Might as well get that acting career started now. I could change my name to a stage name in the process, and really give myself a fresh start.
I looked in my closet for my suitcases. I wondered how much of my stuff I could pack with me as I left town. I’d probably have to hitch a ride with a trucker or someone with pity and space in the back seat. If I was going to be hitchhiking, I shouldn’t pack too much. Who knows how far I’d have to hike before I found a ride, plus I couldn’t crowd up a stranger’s car with all my luggage.
Luggage. Packing. Oh no.
The school camping trip.
The spring camping trip, where the school took over an entire campground on Lake Lanier and arranged cookouts and activities and games and a sleepover for all the students, was coming up in a few weeks. I’d completely forgotten in all the musical madness. It was the epic kickoff to spring break. And everyone usually went. Students would be staying a long weekend with a select group of parents and teachers as chaperones. At a campground with plenty of dark woods, and rivers, and caves, and wild animals….
How was I supposed to travel to the woods with people who clearly now hated me? I couldn’t imagine worse punishment. I would have to be sitting in the woods with the same people I had insulted in my blog. Wouldn’t they just want to get their revenge on me? Maybe they’d put bedbugs in my sleeping bag, or leave me out in the woods, exposed to the elements. That’s it—that was how I would end up leaving this world, hearing my own words being used against me, with my friends quoting my mean blogs back to me.
My truth would end up killing me.
My chest felt so tight that breathing felt like sandpaper was rubbing my insides. I had a headache. The doom of the situation hung on my body like a heavy cape. I couldn’t see a way out. I turned toward my bed and flopped down face-first into a pillow.
I heard a knock on the door. “June?” my dad called out.
Oh man. He opened the door and walked toward my bed.
“So, I guess punishment wasn’t enough for you last time? You had to go and create a burn book to get your true feelings out?”
Welp. I guess my parents had checked their social media today after all.
I sat up and crossed my legs. “I didn’t mean for it to be a burn book, Dad! It was a private blog.”
He pulled out his phone. “You said Lee had no taste in girls. That’s gotta hurt. You said Mrs. Stevens wasn’t a real actress. She was in Wicked on Broadway! And Chicago!”
“Her name didn’t pop up on my Google search!”
“That’s because she used her maiden name when she was acting. She went by Celeste Main back then.”
Could I be any meaner? Could I be any more foolish? Could this get any worse?
I paced around the room.
“Dad, can I go to boarding school?”
“Nope!” he said with a shake of his head. “Listen, this is tough, but it’s a good lesson for you.” He leaned in close. “We raised you to be a person of integrity. That your word is your bond. Say what you mean and mean what you say. But you have to respect others, even when you’re disagreeing with them. Even when their truth and your truth may not be the same thing.”
I started to feel light-headed. I took quick breaths in, panting like a dog on a hot day.
“Relax, June. I know this feels like the end of the world, but it’s not.”
“Ya think?”
“You can make things better.”
“Nothing could make this better.”
“Yes, something could: an apology.”
I looked up at him. How would I even begin to apologize to all these people that I mentioned on the blog? This was bad, sure—but admitting I’d been wrong to everyone I’d ever known would hurt even worse. I didn’t even think I’d have the courage to do it. Even with the “superpower” of being able to tell the truth no matter what.
“You can admit that you have been trying to live your truth, and that sometimes you had opinions that you didn’t feel comfortable sharing. So you wrote them down, but never intended for them to be public.”
I nodded. I looked forward at the floor, but my eyes weren’t in focus. Dad continued, “You can admit you made a huge mistake and that you should have been less judgmental about people because everyone has flaws—but their flaws don’t make them any less worthy, or less human.”
“I don’t know if anyone even wants to hear what I have to say anymore.”
Dad looked at me. “Then you have to speak with conviction so people will have to pay attention. You’ll have to do something just as impactful as the huge mistake you made in creating the blog. But in a good way. I know it’s hard, but sometimes facing a challenge as difficult as this one is, is the only way to come out on the other end. And in this case, it’s the only way to regain people’s trust in you.”
Dad gave me a kiss on the forehead and headed toward my door. “And, look, I’m not happy about what you said about your mother and me in that blog, either. But if you can apologize, I can forgive.”
Dad turned his back and walked out. I knew what I had to do next.