Girls Don't Know Jack

Claws Come Out

♫ Rumors (feat. Cardi B) - Lizzo, Cardi B

After my picture-perfect moment with Jack Moody, I walk back towards my friends on cloud nine. Every eye on me, I put on my best strut as I flip my wavy brown bob.

But then, my friends' faces burst my bubble. Arms crossed, scowls etched into their faces, they glare back at me as I approach.

Wrinkling my nose, I mumble, "Geez, what's your problem?"

"You missed our song," Naila spits, bouncing her little head into my face.

"Uh—I'm sorry, but did you miss what just happened?" I gasp motioning an arm to the dance floor. "I just danced with Jack Moody."

Unimpressed, Naila crosses her arms tighter, rolling her big brown eyes. The bad attitude feels comical on her baby face. "It was One Direction," she pouts. "You don't leave your friends hanging on One Direction."

With an exaggerated groan I wave her off. "Oh my god, don't be a baby," I moan. "We danced together all night."

Her lower lip pouts out—her anger turning to pained betrayal, forcing me to feel a pang of guilt.

"It's tradition," she squeaks before brushing past me, stomping out of the large room. Her brown curls bouncing on the top of her head as she storms off.

"Way to go, Molly," Jade huffs. "You upset Naila."

She starts to march off after her as I call out, flailing my arms. "It was Jack Moody!"

Annoyed, I shake my head as the two of them disappear out of the gym. Did they really expect me to turn him down?

With rolling eyes, I stomp back towards the folding chairs. Slumping into one, I bite down on my cheek.

My friends are so unsupportive. The biggest moment of my high school career just unfolded and they couldn't care less. They're probably just sour because they're jealous.

A body crashes onto the chair beside me. And to my dismay, it's none other than Tina Parker.

Greasy hair slicked back into a top knot, she grabs at the fuzzy cream cardigan around her shoulders. "Did you see where Jack Moody just went?"

Piquing my interest, I lean forward in my chair frantically surveying the crowd. In the sea of hairspray and colorful tiny dresses, I make out Emma's old friends. The empty chairs he was last seated in—but no Jack Moody.

More concerning, I can't locate Emma McKinney either.

Eyes wide, I turn back to the sweaty girl in the chair next to me. "Where are they?"

With a smug smile, Tina Parker wiggles her brows. "Emma pulled him into a supply closet in the hall," she says to me. "They're probably hooking up right now."

And at that admission—something inside of me breaks.

.........

My skinny high heels clack into the shiny floor of the hallway as I stomp. But they're slowing me down, so I pause, ripping them off of my feet one at a time before throwing them against the wall to my left.

I'm on a mission—I don't have time to teeter on the things.

Face tense and twisted, I march straight ahead to the two figures at the end of the hall. One with a shiny blonde topknot that's about to be yanked out.

"Emma McKinney!" I roar and she whips her head around. Sarah Johnson drops her once comforting hand from her friend's shoulder as I meet Emma's watery eyes and pink nose.