Chapter 9: Parting With Emily
As I found a quiet corner to sit in, the laughter and mocking voices still echoed around me like a chorus of hyenas. I could see them out of the corner of my eye—some pointing fingers in my direction, others making crude gestures, all of them getting their kicks at my expense.
"Can you believe that loser actually bagged Sara Clinton?" One of them whispered, loud enough for me to hear.
"I mean, she’ll sleep with anyone, but still..." Another added, followed by more snickers.
I kept my face neutral, staring at a crack in the wall as if it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen. Inside, though, I was kicking myself. Why the hell did I have to use Sara’s name? Of all the girls in school, why her? I could have picked literally anyone else—Jennifer from chemistry class, or that quiet girl from the library, or even made up a completely fictional person.
But no, in my panic, Sara Clinton was the first name that popped into my head. Maybe because she was infamous enough that everyone would believe it without question. Sara had a reputation that preceded her by about three hallways—the kind of girl who was whispered about in locker rooms and discussed in hushed tones during lunch. She was beautiful, sure, but she was also known for being... generous with her affections.
I wanted to laugh. These same people found it completely believable that I could hook up with Sara Clinton, but the idea of me being with Emily Johnson? That was apparently so far-fetched it never even crossed their minds which was understandable in some ways.
Maybe that was exactly why they bought the Sara story so easily. In their minds, I was the type of guy who would chase after the school’s most easiest girl rumoured and proved to be a prostiture, not the type who could win over someone like Emily, the Princess of the school.
The laughter continued, but I noticed it had a different quality to it now—almost forced, like they were trying too hard to find something funny. Maybe they needed this distraction. Maybe mocking me was their way of coping with the fact that there were literal monsters roaming outside, that their normal lives had been shattered in the span of a few hours.
I let them have their moment. If my humiliation could give them a few minutes of normalcy, then so be it.
For the next several hours, I remained in my corner like a social pariah. No one approached me, no one tried to include me in their conversations. I watched as Liam gathered the core group around him—Tommy, Emily, Jessica, Mat, and a few others I recognized from various classes. They huddled together near the windows, speaking in low voices, occasionally gesturing toward the barricaded door or pointing at what looked like a hand-drawn map of the school.
They were planning something. An escape route, maybe.
Whatever it was, they clearly didn’t think I was worth including.