Page 45

45 | It’s Me KAITLIN

In the mirror in the bathroom off the cafeteria, I am just me—albeit with dark circles, bags, dull skin. But even I know I’ve turned into a monster.

I am furious that they’re together, but also—of course they are.

Didn’t I almost will it? Would he ever even have noticed her if I hadn’t talked about her incessantly?

In the wake of the implosion, I am oddly calm.

The bathroom door wheezes open. A small child—maybe a first grader—walks in, crosses to a stall. Doesn’t lock it.

For a second, I’m afraid she’ll be scared of me. Then I remember that looks can be deceiving. To her, I am just another mom.

I turn on the faucet. The water is freezing cold, but I splash it on my cheeks anyway.

I need to get out of this place. Go home. I have blown up what was left of my life. And the stupid thing is, I don’t even care about Sasha anymore.

In this moment, I can see what I’ve maybe wanted all along: confirmation that she’s just as much of a mess as I am.

The little girl comes out of the stall.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” I say, drying my own on a brown paper towel. I hand her a dry one.

And then I go home, leaving out the school’s front gates instead of the yard. I don’t tell Lisa or Ruby or Ethan I’m leaving. And I don’t go back for my hat.