But it does. A little. More than a little.
It just feels unfair that Kristen has gotten through all of this so unscathed. I lost everything and she gets to run for fucking Snow Princess. It’s such bullshit. High school, the world. All of it.
Sam bumps my shoulder with his. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”
We spend the hour in art working on our project. Once Sam understood what I was trying to convey through my written notes, he was totally on board with the giant comic strip idea. Except now we’re just doing a mural of all the different Peanuts characters. I sketch the outlines of most of them, since, not to brag, I am a way better artist than Sam; the only one he can draw with any accuracy is Snoopy. I already have most of my part done. All I have to do is finish Schroeder and his piano.
With five minutes left of class, I sit back on my knees and survey our combined work. It won’t be long before the outlining is done and we can start painting. That’ll be the easy part. Sam’s about to roll up the paper when Ms. Kinsey flutters over.
“This looks fantastic!” she says, except since she’s Ms. Kinsey, she doesn’t just say it, she exclaims. Gushes. Like always. “You two work very well together.”
I glance over at Sam and—is he blushing? He totally is. Either he’s embarrassed by the praise, or embarrassed by the last comment. He looks over at me, rubs his hair with a small smile. I swear I would bet good money that it’s the latter.
And I really don’t know how to feel about that.
* * *
On the other hand, I do know how I feel about the latest graffiti on my locker.
Disgusted.
This time I know exactly who the culprit is, because Lowell is still topping off the finishing touches as Sam and I turn down the hall. I get a glimpse of a stick figure girl and some poorly drawn genitalia and that’s really all I need to see.