Chapter 2

Back in the dorm, I sat on my bed and stared at my bruised arm.

All I could see were the two of them standing together, and that one word. Tagalong.

Tears ran down my whole face.

My phone chimed. A message from Victor.

Just one line.

"Don't bring up Kirsten's joke again today. Don't make a scene over it."

To Victor, every one of Kirsten's jokes was just childish temper.

Senior year, the school cracked down hard on dress code. For morning drills, you had to be in your gym uniform.

In the summer, everyone kept their uniforms in the lockers by the classroom door.

Kirsten took a leave slip, slipped out, cut my uniform to shreds, and dumped it in the boys' bathroom.

At drill time I couldn't find it and started crying, frantic,

and she stood there beaming, tugging Victor over to watch me search.

In the end I got punished with laps around the field.

Kirsten made a point of bringing a whole crowd of her buddies to watch.

They sneered from the side. "Even the honor student gets punished, huh?"

I said nothing, head down, teeth clenched, running lap after lap.

When I stayed quiet, Kirsten started egging them on.

"No wonder she won't wear the uniform. The tagalong's got a body like that, all that bounce, be a shame not to show it off."

"You boys have no appreciation for a pretty thing."

And they burst out laughing.

Tears dripped onto the track, my hands shook, but I didn't dare stop running.

In the end it came out that Kirsten had done it, and all Victor said, flat as anything, was, "That's just her childish temper. Be the bigger person and let it go."

He had never once cared how I felt.

Another buzz pulled me back to the present.

I grabbed the phone, a small flicker of hope catching in my chest.

Maybe it was Victor.

It was my mom calling.

She asked how I was settling in this new semester.

Disappointment sank through me.

I wiped my eyes and told her things were fine.

I was about to pick a few funny stories from the start of term to tell her, and she cut me off.

Her tone shifted. "Kirsten says you and Victor had a falling-out?"

The scolding edge was already there. "What did I tell you before school started? Did you forget again? Didn't I say not to be so dramatic, to give Victor a little more slack?"

"So he likes to joke around with his friends. Let him. Be generous about it."

"Kitty, you're a grown woman. How are you still this immature, still making your mom worry?"

My hand froze where it was.

For as long as I could remember, they'd been teaching me to be generous.

No matter whose fault it was, all they ever told me was to let it go and be the bigger person.

I didn't say another word, and let the tears I'd just wiped away come flooding back.

At the end of the call, my mom gave me an order.

"Tomorrow is your birthday. Victor's sure to do something for you. Don't play hard to get, just make up with him."