After the wreck, I had called Armand, who had told me not to bother calling the police. He said he would take care of the car when he had a chance to. I explained to him that it hadn’t been my fault, but he didn’t seem interested, and rushed me off the phone.
I was late to class, but didn’t care. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. The mood I had started the day with was back, and desolation had taken over again.
All throughout the day I heard the murmurs and felt the people in class and hallways watching me, talking behind my back. b***h, slut, w***e, look at her clothes, her hair is weird, she doesn’t belong here… All around me, the insults swirled.
I even caught the teachers talking about me at one point, “Yeah, that’s Beryl. I heard Anna say that she had slept with the entire foo
