I wanted to get home as quickly as possible. I decided to walk because calling an Uber and waiting outside Bianca's house felt unbearable, as did asking Lamar for a ride. It was all so humiliating.
I walked steadily, using the navigator, trying to figure out which way to turn. The tears that kept falling onto the screen distorted the map amusingly.
Ishani was right: popular girls are all the same. I should've trusted her more. Lamar was right too, though I hated to admit it: Bianca didn't care about me. She had her football players and, of course, Dick. Lucky her, snagging such a Dick.
I needed to apologize to everyone... maybe even come out. They didn't seem like homophobes. Then at least they might understand why I acted like such a fool.
Everyone was calling me: Lamar, Alisha, who called like ten times, and Ishani was texting non-stop. I kept swiping her messages away. Everyone was trying to find me except Bianca. An unknown number popped up several times, maybe her calling from another number.
I didn't answer anyone, sinking deeper into self-loathing.
The house was dark, which meant one thing: Mom wasn't back from her date, and Jess had taken the chance to escape somewhere. Why would they be home? It was only half-past six.
I needed some air, so I sat on the porch steps. The autumn air smelled of earth and fallen leaves. The flowers left by the previous owners were in full bloom: bright orange marigolds, fire red asters, and the wind-tossed heather. At our old house, we had no flowers because Jess's father's family preferred a neat lawn, a white picket fence, and a spotless house with a flag on the porch. I barely remember the apartment where Mom and I lived alone before dumb Jess was born, but it was charming, modest, and cozy: ottomans, soft blankets, old plush toys, houseplants in pots. When I first saw this house with its garden, flower beds, and cracked clay pots, and then met Ishani, Mel, and the basketball crew, I thought I could call this new town home.
I wiped away another tear, watching the heather sway.
Another call from Bianca made me jump. Enough self-pity, time to answer.
"What do you want? Don't you have your Dick to play with?" I snapped.
"Okayyy, well, good evening to you too, Mel."
"Heather?!"
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