Prologue

You know that feeling you get when there’s an elephant in the room, but no one addresses it? That’s exactly how it felt walking into Mr. Samt’s class on the last day of senior year. Graduation day should be exciting for everyone. Seniors should be talking, annoying their teachers for the last time, and making plans for what they would do after they graduated. When I stepped into the class, it was dead silent. Worst of all, everyone’s eyes were on me, and I knew exactly what every single person was thinking.

    Okay, so I had probably pulled the biggest scheme Clayton High had ever seen, and I had also probably become the most hated person in the state of Arkansas. It wouldn’t be surprising, but despite all of this, I have no regrets. It was definitely worth it, and if I could turn back time and change it, I wouldn’t.

    I ignored the minefield of stares by not even taking my eyes off of my seat. I walked straight to the chair and sat down like nothing had happened. My short hair got caught in my necklace as I sat down. It was gradually getting longer, but now I would have no need to worry about getting it cut. Having long hair again would actually be a relief.

    To act like I was actually doing something rather than just waiting for the day to be over, I took out my five-subject notebook and opened it to a page of notes. Of course, I didn’t plan on reading them. Reading on the last day of high school was for nerds and teachers. A whisper gradually made its way through the room, hushed but loud enough for me to be aware that it was there.

    Everyone was angry at me, and maybe even a few of the people that were still staring at me expected an apology. What did they want me to apologize for? I didn’t do anything that was illegal. What I did wouldn’t affect them much at all. In fact, after senior year, the hoax would be forgotten and next year’s seniors would have no recollection of it other than distant flashes of memories. Honestly, it doesn’t take long for people to forget and move on to the next bit of drama.

    I took out my phone, placed it on the page of notes, and lifted the front cover of the notebook up so that Samt wouldn’t see it. What hurt the most about this ordeal was the lone message that Fin had sent me that morning. The cruelest thing was when you left a message read and the person on the other end can see it, and you don’t respond just to show them that they are being ignored. The little ‘r’ with the checkmark in the right corner of my text was taunting me, a grim reminder that whatever relationship I had had with Fin was most likely thrown away.

    “Come on, Fin,” I murmured. Even though I had already sent a lengthy message apologizing for everything, I still wanted to say more. I restrained myself, though. The last thing I wanted to do was appear desperate. Already, it was clear that Fin had no interest in responding to me. Either that, or his reply was just really long. Knowing Fin, he could’ve been sitting at the desk in his room and staring at a thesaurus, searching for the biggest and most redundant words he could find to express how he felt. Fin wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. He’d proven that to me from day one.

    The last message Fin had sent to me still stung. I knew Jay, but now, you’re just a stranger. Ouch. The last thing I had wanted to do was hurt Fin, but I had and he would probably never understand why. After tonight, we’d walk away from each other forever. My best friend, gone, because he didn’t truly know me anymore. Admitting that was the only thing that still haunted me and made me regret doing this. I hadn’t expected to make friends because of this, but I should’ve known that that would be inevitable.

    A shadow loomed over me, and I glanced up to see Mr. Samt standing in his military position, hands clasped behind his back, head bent forward, and icy eyes trained right on mine. “No phones in class,” he muttered.

    Not once had I ever felt uncomfortable around Mr. Samt. When he liked you, he was a fun guy that you could kid around with and he would tell you stories about his adventures in the armed forces. Now, whatever respect he had felt for me was gone, and I could tell just by the cold look in his eyes.

    “Mr. Samt, it’s the last day,” I tried, but he stretched out his hand nevertheless. With a sigh, I handed the phone over. This day was going to be a disaster. I wondered if the teachers that once beamed at me would give me the same nasty look Mr. Samt had.

    I sunk down into my seat as Chicken Little started playing on the Smartboard. I felt eyes on me, but not like the glares everyone else had sent me when I had first walked in. My eyes jetted across the room until I saw Jenna staring at me. She had known, and even warned me that this would happen. Jenna had been my only true friend, the only one that knew my secret the entire time. She had been emotionally harassed because of me, but she had taken all of it because being my friend had become a contract deal. She could be my friend and know the truth, but she could never tell a soul.

    I wanted to say something to her, but she looked away a few seconds after our eyes had met. She wasn’t angry, but I could tell she was disappointed. A pang of guilt hit my chest, and I averted my eyes to the Smartboard once more. Now that I thought about it, as I looked around, everyone else was on their phones. In fact, two boys, Nathan Tomlin and Chris Abernathy, were in the back of the room with hands pressed tightly over their mouths to conceal their laughter from some YouTube video. Several kids had headphones in their ears and were listening to music. Mr. Samt had taken my phone just because he could. Again, ouch.

    Were my classmates and Mr. Samt just being overdramatic, or did I truly deserve to be treated like this for what I did? Since I had no regrets, I went with the first option. What was I supposed to do anyway? I could give them an empty apology and walk away tonight knowing I’d never have to go through this again. Then again, maybe I would after all. The school board was very unhappy with me as well, and for all I knew, they could decide to ‘accidentally’ delete all my good grades as Jayden Saunders and I’d have to repeat senior year. The thought of coming back to this school made me feel sick, but I didn’t dare get up and ask to go to the bathroom. For one, the answer would’ve been no, and two, I’d have to trek back through the minefield of glares. Neither were appealing, so I simply lay my head on my desk and waited for the bell for second hour to ring.

    How did all this happen? When did it all begin? Well, I guess you could say it started with a pitch up and in.