Girls Don't Know Jack

Sh*t Friends

♫ Wurli - Dominic Fike

Kicking at the dirt outside of Wilcrest, I hug my torso. Monday morning—and I'm waiting until the last possible second to face reality.

The entire weekend, everyone's been ignoring my calls and texts. No one wants anything to do with me. And I'm starting to not blame them.

I'm a disaster—just like Jack Moody once said to me. Anything I touch just turns to a mess.

The sound of a school bell rings behind the heavy front entrance. With a sigh, I turn, realizing I can't put it off any longer, I step through the doorway.

My shiny black shoes barely touch the floor before Principal Wells steps in front of me.

"Molly Clark," she warns, and by the use of my full name, my heart sinks. "Please join me in my office."

With a sigh, I follow her over, through the door of the front office.

To my surprise, there's already a group waiting there. Slumped into the cushioned maroon chairs across from a heavy oak desk, seat Jack Moody and Emma McKinney. Both looking less than thrilled with their company.

Principal Wells steps in, shutting the door behind us, which reveals two more people pressed against the back wall. An older man with a tight-lipped frown—and a pale woman with blonde hair, an uncanny resemblance to Emma McKinney.

"Please take a seat," Principal Wells says to me, motioning to a small wooden chair in between the other two students.

Reluctantly, I take a seat. All three of us staring straight ahead, too embarrassed or scared to face each other's eyes.

Shifting uncomfortably, I adjust my navy skirt over my pale legs. "What's going on?" I squeak.

Our principal sighs. "I understand there was an altercation at Friday night's dance."

Slumping, I shrink down into the hard chair.

"That boy—" the man behind me seethes. "Tried to ruin my baby's reputation."

Biting my lip, I turn around to meet the man's angry eyes as he extends a finger to the back of Jack's motionless head.

A muffled cry comes from the woman beside him, who places a wadded up tissue to the corners of her eyes.

"I understand your frustration, Mr. McKinney," Principal Wells says trying to calm the matter.

"I want him gone," he spits.

At his words, I swallow hard. Straightening in my chair, I whip my head back to Principal Wells with big desperate eyes.

They can't kick Jack out of Wilcrest. He has no where else to go—he'll be sent away. Away from his mother.

"But he can't leave!" I exclaim, leaning forward.

Emma's father doesn't seem to appreciate that as he lurches ahead, heavy foot stomping forward. "That boy accused my daughter of horrendous, indecent acts," he continues to spit in anger.

Well, your daughter is kind of a slut.

Rolling my eyes, I sink back into my seat as the man carries on.

"His words have caused irreparable damage to her. He has no business being here," the man mutters. "We bring our daughters to Wilcrest to avoid situations like this. He's a disgrace to this school and we won't tolerate it."

Panic rises in me at his determination. Principal Wells nods her head slowly, like she understands his words.

But she can't do this. She knows better than anyone what's at risk for Jack.