Chapter 21

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Sabrina McLain: 

Lilly Nicole Porter and I 

ate lunch together today. 

That was usual. 

We didn't talk much. 

Also usual. 

But what was unusual? 

Kyle didn't sit with us. 

He sat with Fiona Shaw

and Diane Ginnis. 

He sat with the popular people. 

He sat with the people 

that he sat with before he met me. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. 

My fingers gripped my sandwich, 

leaving oval-shaped depressions

in my bread where 

my deathgrip flattened it down. 

My food tasted like nothing. 

I watched as his arm

found its way easily 

around Fiona's shoulders. 

I watched as they flirted. 

I watched his sweet, sweet smile

as it flashed...

at her. 

I watched them laughing

and talking

and being together. 

Two beautiful people. 

Both blonde. 

Both popular. 

Even though I hated to admit it

and even though 

Kyle was 

MINE 

they looked good together. 

Like they belonged together. 

Lilly Nicole Porter 

didn't say anything, 

but she hated Kyle for what

he was doing. 

So did I. 

I thought he liked me...

loved me? 

He kissed me! 

He held my hand! 

He hugged me!

He treated me 

like a boyfriend

treats his girlfriend. 

But apparently I didn't mean much

at least to him

because there he sat...

next to Fiona. 

My hands tingled

at the memory

of his fingers twined with mine. 

My lips tingled 

at the memory

of his own lips touching mine. 

My heart tingled

and burned

and festered

at the memory

of his own heart beating

in tempo with mine. 

I finally just gave up on lunch. 

I told Lilly Nicole Porter

where I was going, 

gave her a goodbye hug, 

and left. 

As I passed the popular table, 

Fiona looked up. 

She glared warning daggers at me, 

contempt dripping from her false smile. 

Kyle didn't look up at all. 

***

I went to the nurse's office 

and slept

until five minutes

before school let out. 

I spent those five minutes

wandering the halls 

until the bell rang. 

I rode the bus home 

in silence. 

I arrived at home. 

Mom wasn't home. 

Baylee was. 

We didn't speak. 

But she showed me her forearm. 

The scratch has gone from

grisly, garish red

to a pale, pale white. 

Soon it will fade into her natural skin color. 

Soon it will all be a memory. 

Just like Kyle. 

Dissipate: Book TwoWhere stories live. Discover now