Jealousy by Jessica Burkhart Page B

“friend.” Taylor wasn’t my boyfriend, but I wasn’t exactly ready to give Lacey the 411 on all things Taylor Frost.
    â€œHe’s not in this class,” I said. “And I actually don’t know his full schedule.”
    â€œYou aren’t talking to him?” Lacey asked. She raised an eyebrow like she didn’t believe me.
    â€œNo—I mean yes, I am, but Taylor’s settling into campus and I’m busy with classes, riding, and stuff.”
    Lacey sat back in her seat a little. “Oh. Gotcha. I’ll find out on my own.” Her tone was clipped.
    Before I could even respond, she turned to one of her friends who had just sat next to her. Lacey whispered something and shot me an annoyed look over her shoulder.
    Not wanting to be like Lacey, I took out my phone and typed a BBM.
    Lauren:
    Did u c what Lacey just did?
    Khloe:
    No! What?
    Lauren:
    She was asking me abt Taylor and
    I shoved my phone under my desk and put my gaze on the front of the classroom as Mr. Davidson entered.
    â€œGood morning, everyone,” he greeted us.
    â€œGood morning, Mr. Davidson,” we all said back.
    The rest of the forty-five-minute period wasn’t good. At least not for me. Lacey only looked at me once during class, and when she did, her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed together. Her attitude had spread via whispers and under-the-desk texting to almost every other girl in class.
    One by one I got a stare and then a look of disgust from my classmates. I’d never counted down the seconds until a class’s end the way I did in today’s English period.
    Thirty seconds left.
    I tore my eyes away from the second hand on the clock and did something I knew Mr. Davidson hated—I started packing before he finished talking.
    Clare and Khloe had BBMed me during the entire class, telling me not to let Lacey and her friends make me feel bad. We’d been on our phones so much, I couldn’t believe we hadn’t gotten caught.
    I closed my notebook. The lined page was blank except for a date and Notes. I doubted that Khloe and Clare had taken notes either.
    â€œ. . . and that sums up today’s discussion,” Mr. Davidsonsaid as I tuned back in. The blond teacher stood, smiling at us. “We’ll pick up with the final chapter of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings on Wednesday. Heads up—there will be a quiz tomorrow on today’s discussion.”
    Mr. Davidson let his gaze linger on me. Then Khloe. Then Clare. Then Lacey.
    â€œIf you didn’t take notes,” he said, “I hope you’ll be able to borrow a friend’s. See you all tomorrow.”
    Oh, mon Dieu. The way Mr. Davidson had looked at me made me wish I could evaporate. He knew I hadn’t been paying attention, and he was disappointed. Letting down a teacher made me feel awful.
    I gathered my book and notebook into my arms, not even bothering to put them into my backpack. In a daze I bolted for the door, barely avoiding a collision with a classmate. I was not going to let a mean girl make me cry. But even as I repeated that over and over to myself, tears blurred my vision as I waited for Clare and Khloe outside the classroom.

THIS FEELS LIKE A BAD MOVIE
    BY LUNCH I FELT LIKE I WAS A CHARACTER IN a teen movie. I was the Liked Ten Seconds Ago Girl who had done or said something that caused all of my Used to Like Me Friends to become the Whispering Mean Girls.
    I didn’t look up from my spot at the corner table in the back ( very back) of the caf, which Khloe and Clare had chosen. Lexa had joined us, and while everyone else’s lunch trays were almost empty, I’d eaten a forkful of mac ’n’ cheese before pushing away my tray.
    â€œLacey was ridic,” Khloe said.
    She, Clare, and I had been giving Lexa the details of the awful English class.
    â€œI’m just glad that Taylor doesn’t have lunch duringour period,” I said. “That