I should’ve expected this. I really did expect it, on some level. I just didn’t realize it was going to be so hard.
* * *
Mr. Callihan gives me a funny look when I hand him the note before class.
“A vow of silence?” he says dryly.
I nod, fiddling with the strap of my bag. Mr. Callihan has never liked me much, but that’s okay because I don’t like geometry, either. It’s my worst subject, and the most boring. I typically sit in the back next to Megan and talk to her as much as I can before Mr. Callihan threatens me with detention. My hope is he’ll be so keen on the prospect of me shutting up during his lectures that he won’t ask a million questions about why I’m keeping quiet. The last thing I want to do is try to explain. It’s why I came prepared with the note.
“Well.” He sighs. “You’re lucky I don’t grade on class participation.”
I take my usual seat next to Megan, who is diligently copying down the warm-up problems in her notebook, all of her attention focused on what she’s writing. She glances at me as I swing my backpack onto my desk, and then just as quickly averts her eyes again. I know she has to have heard what happened; everyone has. It even made the front page of the Grand Lake Tribune. Sure, the article didn’t include the dirty details or mention me by name, but too many people witnessed my scene in Kristen’s kitchen to keep my role in everything under wraps, and I’m sure Kristen didn’t hesitate to fill in the blanks with her own revisionist history designed to paint her in the most flattering light. And I know the gossip grapevine well enough to know how fast that story would’ve traveled.
Geometry goes okay, all things considered. Everyone acts like I’m invisible, which isn’t so surprising. All of my friends hate me now for turning in two of our own, and everyone else hated me already. The few who didn’t have no doubt heard the story and blame me for what happened to Noah. Mr. Callihan doesn’t call on me, but when the bell rings and I pack up my stuff, I can tell he’s watching.