Check, Please?

Chapter 21

As I drove away from Louis’ apartment, I struggled with myself as to who I would tell first and how I would do it or even if I would ever do it.  It would probably be easier to tell Anna first I supposed, but I was a little angry that Louis refused to do it himself.  He was too much in shock to say anything but “no” repeatedly after he saw the little pink smiley face.  That stupid pink smiley face.  My thoughts traveled back to Anna.  I told her all of my secrets.  She was never really judgmental… and even if she was, she judged me in a funny way that made me know what I was doing was something she didn’t agree with.  Since I had been reminiscing on the past for the last few days and I had a few more minutes alone in the car, I allowed myself to slip into another memory.  I remembered sitting alone in the bathroom stall my freshman year at school when Harry had a fever one day.

You suck, I texted him while I shifted uncomfortably on the toilet-paper ring that I craftily made for the top of the germy seat. I know you’re not really sick you asshole.

I am though! He replied quickly. You know I would rather be at school with you than at home with my mom.

I sighed heavily and rested my head against the stall wall.  I pinched a chip between my fingers from the sack-lunch I had on my lap and slowly put it in my mouth.  Even though I knew my food was clean, there was something about eating in the nasty bathroom stalls that made me think my chips were contaminated just from touching the air.  While I chewed, I stared at the back of the door, covered in graffiti.

“Karli Hilson is a slut,” I read out loud, thinking I was alone.

Someone a few stalls down laughed. “You can say that again.”

I froze and held my breath.

“Apparently Megan LeBlanc is a slut too… or at least that’s what it says down here…” the stranger continued talking.  I listened as she struggled with her belt buckle and flushed the toilet.  Her door opened and she stepped out into the open bathroom.  I continued to hold my breath all the while she washed her hands and fixed her hair in the mirror.  I slowly ducked my head down under the stall to see her pink glittery converse halted un front of the sink.  Finally, she walked over to my stall and peeked through the crack in the door. “Are you eating lunch in there? Sick.”

I frowned at her intrusion of my privacy, threw the remainder of my sandwich and chips into my backpack, and zipped it up before pushing my toilet-paper seat into the toilet with my shoe and leaving the stall.  I washed my hands in the sink even though I didn’t actually use the bathroom and fixed my hair while the girl watched me.  “What’s your name?”

“Scotlan.”

“I’m Anna.  Are you a slut too?  Like Megan Leblanc and Karli Hilson?”

I contorted my face. “What?”

“Of course, no slut would never admit to that.  I mean, would you?”

“Yes,” I muttered under my breath.

“You would?” Anna asked. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I sleep with who I want.  The guys might be using me but I would stop letting them if I actually cared.  But that’s the key.  I let them do it.  I don’t care what people think.”

Anna’s mouth slowly fell open, more with a hint of admiration as opposed to shock. “Well if you don’t care about what people think then why are you eating lunch in the bathroom?”

Because I really did care.  I cared enough to listen to Harry’s critiques earlier that year and change myself.  I cared so much that I turned into a slut, and now that I reached where I thought I wanted to be, I had to act like I didn’t care.  Pretending that I didn’t care kept me from hating myself.