“Dovey, if you don’t come out, I’m coming in there,” Spider yelled into the open door of the bathroom.

I huddled in the corner on the floor, laying my head down on my knees. I rocked.

“Incoming,” he called out to anyone who might be listening, causing a riot of giggles from the girls still waiting for class to start.

My stall door was locked, but it didn’t stop him. He crawled underneath, his face grimacing at the dirty floor as he weaseled his way inside.

I surprised myself when I started giggling at the sight he made. “You’re crazy.”

“Just proves I’m a real friend. And, shit, this loo is dirty,” he said.

He maneuvered himself all the way in until he was sitting next to me. He took out a cig and lit up. And when he held it out for me, I took it and inhaled deeply, letting the menthol burn my lungs.

“I’m never falling in love again.” I handed him back his smoke.

He spoke around his exhale. “The best way to get over someone is to jump right back in. I know. I do it all the time.”

“I gave him my virginity,” I mumbled, picking at my nails.

“I’m going to kill that mutherfucker,” he bit out, pinching his cigarette out with his fingers.

“Don’t even go there.” It killed me to think of Cuba hurt. Or Spider. I loved them both.

He sighed and wrapped an arm around me, and we sat on the tile until my belly rumbled and twisted and gurgled. I swallowed convulsively and stood, holding on the side of the stall.

“Spider, I know we’re friends and all, but I’m about to be—”

Sick. I hunched over and threw up in the toilet. He hustled to his feet and rubbed my back as I retched until there was nothing left but dry heaves. Water came from my nose and eyes but it wasn’t tears. It wasn’t. It was just water or a runny nose or something—oh hell, it was tears. They blinded me.

“I haven’t cried since my mama died and now look at me. I’m a mess,” I said in between sniffs.

But I’d never felt this way before, like I might die without him. I clung to the hard walls of the stall and let it all out with my tears. It spilled out of me. Every hope I’d had for us, every dream I’d had that he loved me as much as I loved him. I broke in that bathroom.

After a while, I wiped my face and mouth with tissue paper. There. Maybe that was all. But I knew it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

I’d always thought of him as some fine Greek god like Apollo, known for his beauty and athleticism. God of music and healing, he protected you from evil and gave you peace. Now, I knew the truth. He wasn’t Apollo, but Ares, the god of war. Dark and vicious, his only goal was to cause discord. To ruin lives.

And he’d ruined mine. Nothing of me would ever be the same.

“Don’t we all have our own personal albatross?”

–Dovey

“THE RIME OF the Ancient Mariner was written when this dude was on opium. How am I supposed to write an essay on drug-induced poetry?” Sebastian asked me as we sat desk to desk, outlining our five paragraph essays for Lit.

“Dude’s name was Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and you were supposed to have finished reading it last night. If you had, maybe you could figure out what to write.” I grinned to soften the blow. Bantering with him was fun. Plus it helped me forget about the couple who sat one aisle over.

He chuffed and tapped his pencil against his desk, annoying several other students around us, but he didn’t seem to notice. Sebastian did his own thing.

I liked him. We’d been sitting together for almost two weeks now, getting to know each other. Even though he fit all the criteria that usually made me run for the hills.

“Okay. I’m going with the penance theme. You could do the same?” I wanted to help.

“It’s like I hear you talking but you’re not making any sense. Wanna explain that penance thing?”

I popped him on the arm. He wasn’t dumb, but he did seem distracted. Probably some girl. I kinda wished it was Mila, but he never talked about her.

“Seriously, you want me to tell you everything? You gonna ask me to write your paper next?” I said.

He laughed, his eyes glittering. “Nah, Weinstein knows my handwriting.”

I grinned. “Okay, here’s the shortened version but listen good, ‘cause I’m not repeating it.” I cleared my throat. “Crusty old sailor kills the albatross. Oops. Now the ship has bad luck. The other sailors curse him, and tie the nasty bird around his neck—hence the saying ‘albatross around my neck’. Then they all die of thirst. It’s his fault, blah, blah, blah. He suffers and gets so thirsty he bites his arm to drink the blood—yeah, that's gross. He gets a visit from some supernatural beings that scare the bejesus out of him. In the end, he unconsciously blesses some slimy creatures in the ocean, therefore releasing the curse, and the albatross drops from his neck. Bam. He’s paid his dues. Penance is done. Over.”

“Poor dude. Ship happens, I guess,” he said.

I laughed loud enough that Cuba gazed at me, his eyes narrowed in on Sebastian’s hand on my desk. Suck it, I wanted to say. But that was completely juvenile.

Instead, my eyes couldn’t seem to stay off Cuba. Today, he wore Religion jeans and a navy shirt that clung to his chest. And of course, he gazed right back at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I wished I knew what he was thinking. If he really loved Emma or not. If they were planning to get married or get engaged or live together or whatever people did when they’re having a baby. Part of me, the crackbrained side, begged him to tell me I had it all wrong, that all the whispering they did wasn’t them planning a future. But I knew it would be a lie. It’s what he did best.

I dropped my eyes from his. Why was I so fickle about my feelings for him? I hated it.

I glanced up at Sebastian, noticing that his eyes kept darting over to Cuba and Emma too, which was so…

And before I could finish that thought, my phone vibrated on silent with a text.

Weinstein graded papers and Sebastian pretended to write, so I eased it out of my hoodie front pocket.

Dorchester Hotel. Bar. This Friday, 8 PM. Wear a dress.

My mouth dried as I read it over and over, but it didn’t change. I would be doing this.

“Hello, Tiny Dancer, you alive?”

“What now?” I snipped, my nerves frayed.