Girls Love Beyoncé

68

BEYONCÉ KNOWLES

It was only first period and I already wanted to go home.

Same hallway. Same walls. Same faces. But I felt like a completely different person moving through it—like a ghost who used to belong here.

Everything felt tighter now, more watchful. Every glance felt loaded. Like they all knew something, even if they didn't say it. I kept my eyes down and clutched my books to my chest like that would make me smaller..

It didn't help that nearly everyone still blamed me for what happened with Reed.

As if I had done something wrong. Like he hadn't come onto me. Like I hadn't frozen up, terrified, unsure if saying no louder would have made a difference. Like his consequences were my fault. It made my skin crawl just being in this place again, surrounded by people who whispered instead of asked. Assumed instead of listened.

And I felt even crazier because I swore—swore—they knew about New York too. Like my business traveled through the air and stuck to my clothes. Like they could smell regret.

There were so many watching eyes it made me nauseous. I caught one girl whispering to another as I passed and something inside me cracked a little.

"Bey!" a voice called, sharp and familiar. I looked up, and there was Kelly, bouncing toward me with her hair tied up high and her smile wide—until she saw my face. Then she froze.

"What's wrong? Who's bothering you? Do I have to fight somebody?" Her eyes darted around, dramatic but deadly serious.

I let out a breath and shook my head. "No, Kelz. I'm just... anxious. I feel like I'm in a glass bubble and everyone's staring at me."

"Let them stare, girl. Who cares what these people think?"

"I do." My voice was small. "Unfortunately, I do. They already saw me a certain way because of the rumors Megan spread..."

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Trifling hoe."

"And then me and Jay dated, and I switched up friend groups. Sorry about that, by the way."

"Don't bring it up again or I'll cry," she said with a soft laugh, nudging me.

"Then we broke up. And—I don't think anyone knows about the la—" I stopped myself. Too much.

Kelly squinted at me. "About the what?"

I just shook my head, avoiding her gaze. I forgot she didn't know the whole thing. Only her, my mom, and Mr. Muhammed knew... and I wanted to keep it that way.

"Anyway. Then there was the fight with Ari. Everyone thought it was about Jay but it was really about Onika. Then Reed happened. Me and Onika broke up for good. And if they knew about Zahir? Oh my god."

Kelly blinked. "Beyoncé. You've had a lot going on."

"I have." I stopped at my locker, trying to ignore the burning in my chest. "But I don't want any of that baggage anymore."

Kelly watched me closely. "You're doing therapy, right?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "But it's not working. I mean—it's not doing what it's supposed to. Every time I talk about everything, I feel disgusting. Like I'm peeling my skin off over and over again. It's not healing me. It's just... opening things."

She stayed quiet.

"I blame myself for all of it," I whispered. "For that night at the party with Jay. For how I blew up at Onika. For letting Reed get close. For even allowing him to think he could touch me. I blame myself for—" My throat closed up. I couldn't say the last part.