Mean Girls: New Girl / Confessions of an Angry Girl / Here Lies Bridget / Speechless
took her time and smiled at Max, gazing at him as earnestly as she could. “I love you.”
A bunch of the girls gasped and then there was applause. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Oh, he’s embarrassed.” She wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Kiss her!” said a voice in the audience.
She smiled. Max tightened his jaw and looked down at her, his eyes furiously questioning her. He kissed her quickly, and she pulled him in for a real kiss. He was mad, and she knew it. She didn’t care.
More clamor from their onlookers.
“Thank you so much.” She handed the microphone back, curtsied and dragged Max behind her by the hand.
He left after that.
“That was so cute, Becca!” Madison said, running up to her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us he said he loved you! Oh, my God!” She waved a hand in front of her face.
That was definitely the implication in the way she’d said it. But it was easy to claim as an accidental inflection.
“Yeah, it’s really sweet. Look, don’t tell anyone, but I’m sneaking into the boys’ dorms.”
Julia’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Everyone’s down here, so no one will even notice.” She tried to ignore the pounding in her chest. She had to look happy and cool and confident. “Besides, Max and I need to celebrate.” She smiled, but it faltered as she saw Johnny by the entrance. She didn’t look back at her friends, but went to him.
For once she was lost for words as she looked at him. She hadn’t thought about him when she’d done what she just did. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might care.
After not looking at her for what felt like a very long time, he spoke.
“You guys … you’re saying that now?”
She shook her head, but didn’t know what to say.
He finally looked at her, and the look in his eyes made her heart skip. “Do you love him, Becca? Really?”
“I—I don’t know.”
For the first time in she didn’t know how long, she felt her eyes brim with real tears. She took a deep, steadying breath. She did know that she didn’t love Max. Her stomach clenched. Why was she staying with Max? Was it worth it?
Johnny nodded once and walked past her toward the dorms. She called his name, but he didn’t turn. She looked around to see if anyone had seen. No one seemed to have.
That was why she was staying with Max—because Johnny could walk away. And when he did, she would feel like this.
Becca flew down the stairs and into the bathroom. The tears were threatening again; her heart and throat were hot and sore from being in knots. She was on the brink of letting it out when she came upon two girls.
“Becca! That was so sweet! Are you—are you okay?”
It took everything she had to look blasé. “Am I okay? Yes, I’m okay. Just … freshening up before I go to Max’s room.” She smiled and tried to blink the tears away.
She looked in the mirror and wiped any running mascara from under her eyes. She looked pitiful, she thought. The crown looked like it was making fun of her. She left the bathroom and the two girls, whatever their names were, and went up the stairs toward Max.
What was his room number? He’d said something about it the other day because his parents had sent a letter to the wrong room. They sent it to eight. He was in … ugh, for once she wished she’d listened to him. Eighteen? Twenty-eight? It was one of those two. She’d just have to try both.
She found door eighteen. She knocked. No response. She tried the knob, and it was open. She peered in and saw an empty, messy room.
Door twenty-eight. No answer. Locked.
Dammit. Was it … maybe his room was number eight?
She found it and knocked. She shouldn’t be here. She should be trying to fix things with Johnny. She was on the brink of running when Max opened the door.
Becca reminded herself that this was the way to be happy. To have who everyone wanted. And not risk real heartbreak.
She threw her arms around Max. “Oh, thank God you opened the door. I’ve been looking everywhere!”
“Becca, what are you doing?”
“I’m so sorry. I … I just …”
He stepped back, throwing her arms from him. “Stop.”
“I love you. And I mean it.” The words sounded unnatural.
It was the first time she’d said it to anyone. He still looked livid, but she could see in his eyes that he was working to understand what she’d said. She took his hand to squeeze it for emphasis. The emotions from a moment before were threatening to come back.
“I do … and I know you don’t believe me, Max. But I do. I just … don’t know what to do with it. I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t know how to act.” She let go of his hand and stepped backward. She felt herself mean the words she said. But not toward Max. “I’m so sorry. I guess I just hoped you’d say it if I did that.” Her voice was small. She wasn’t this person. Why was she feeling like this? “I feel like everyone knows you don’t like me that much and it’s so embarrassing.” Becca drew her eyebrows together, and let her hands drop to her sides.
Her knees felt week. She succumbed to it and sat down. She stared at the floor and tightened her jaw. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. Not with Max, not on his floor, not in love with someone she feared wouldn’t love her, too.
“Becca, I’m sorry. I can’t … say that back to you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need you to. I shouldn’t have said it.”
There was silence while she breathed deeply and tried to keep the tears at bay. She was using every muscle in her body to not scream and burst into shuddering, pathetic tears.
“What should we do now?” he asked. “Are we …”
“I want to stay with you,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”
“If we do, you can’t do things like that.”
She nodded and tightened her stomach. “I know.”
chapter 15 me
IT WAS THE FIRST DAY WE HAD PAINTING SINCE Halloween. It’d be the first time I’d seen Max since he walked me to my dorm. I tried hard not to wonder what it would be like, where our conversations would go now. We’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, as lame as that sounds, and now … how were we going to act? How was I going to make an idiot out of myself this time instead of being cool and collected?
I shivered as I thought of Becca. She probably wouldn’t feel nervous at all. She’d probably smile and toss her ribbonlike hair over her porcelain shoulder and say something clever and seductive. I imagined myself trying it, and cringed with my own embarrassment.
All I’d wanted to do was get under everyone’s skin, and just tell them what had happened. But I didn’t. I kept it to myself.
A tall, lean boy with Ray-Ban glasses walked in. The girls in the class stopped talking immediately as they took in his good looks. He scooted the glasses up his head.
“Hey, guys,” he said as he set down a laptop bag. “I’m Isaac. Frank—Professor Crawley—is my uncle, and he had a family thing he needed to do this week, so I’m covering for him. I, incidentally, am thrilled to be avoiding the family thing. So we’ll have