Playing Evelyn

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was the end of lunch time when I first started hearing the rumors. I was in one of the stalls in the washroom when two other girls walked in, their excited voices resonating off the walls.

“Oh my God have you heard?”

“What?”

“That weird goth girl is totally knocked up!”

“No way! Who would sleep with her? I mean, who’s the dad?”

Giggling. “No word yet. Who knew she was such a slut?”

Westfield High was a school where rich people sent their kids. Most girls wore designer jeans and polo shirts. Thus, the only goth girl I knew of was Cynthia, my would-be friend.

I waited until the gossipy girls left the washroom before I exited my stall. On the way to my next class, chemistry, I caught a few more snatches of conversation. The word pregnant came up more than once as well as goth and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the buzz was about.

Chemistry class sounded like a swarm of bees. Everyone was whispering to the person beside them about the girl in their class who’d gotten knocked up.

I sat down and looked at the empty spot beside mine. I glanced around the classroom and several eyes strayed to the same spot, wondering if she’d show up now that her “big secret” was out.

Just then, she walked in the room and all the whispers suddenly stopped. The silence was thick and malicious as Cynthia took her seat with her head held high. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her pull out her chemistry book and set up her pencils the way she usually did. If it weren’t for the slight tremble in her black tipped fingers as she set down her calculator, I would’ve thought she was completely unfazed.

Recognizing a good act when I saw one, I guessed she was probably feeling pretty crummy right about then and suddenly, I felt anger wash over me.

What right did anyone have to poke their nose into this girl’s business? This small girl with big blue eyes who wore too much make-up was the only person in four years who had reached out to the biggest loser in school. Everyone else just ignored my existence.

For the first time, I wanted to be the other me at school. I wanted to shout at them to shut up with my hair wild and my voice strong as I met their eyes squarely. I wanted to tell them to get a life that didn’t revolve around gossip and trust funds.

I glanced at Cynthia and saw her lower lip tremble and useless thoughts of being the other me fled. What was the point anyway? I would just make a bigger spectacle.

Mrs. Glyph walked in and started the lecture right away. The atmosphere in the class returned to one of polite boredom interrupted by a few snores from the back row. Once Mrs. Glyph finished her lecture, chatter picked up again but the tension wasn’t as thick as it had been at the beginning of class. Cynthia took out her music theory book and started working on some transposition. After a couple minutes where I was pretending to read the chemistry textbook, I reached over and dragged her music book towards my side of the table.

Quickly, I erased a couple of the notes she’d written and rewrote them in their correct positions. I looked up to meet her startled gaze as I pushed the book back towards her.

“You,” she started but didn’t seem to know what else to say.

“I can play the piano,” I said quietly.

Her eyes widened but she didn’t reply.

“Since we’ve decided to be friends, I figured I could tell you that.” I hesitated, glancing around and noticed a few curious glances being sent our way. I picked up my pen and turned to a blank page in my notebook and wrote: