Girls Don't Know Jack

Pinch Me

♫ 18 - One Direction 

The toe of my shiny loafer kicks at a rock that's been waxed over, imbedded into the maroon tiled floor. Standing alone in the hall, I wait for my parents to stop gabbing inside the library so I can hitch a ride home.

But a body slumped against their signature bench catches my attention. With a sigh, I march down towards the red-faced girl.

"Hey Tina," I mumble peering down at her.

She looks surprised to see me speaking to her—and not threatening to rip out her eyeballs. Although, the thought did cross my mind.

"That was cool of you to do," I mutter. "Admit it was you, and not Jack Moody."

The defeated girl offers a shrug, staring down at her feet.

Lowering my brows, I scrunch up my face before shaking my head. "I still don't get it, though; why'd you do it?"

She peeks up at me, wrinkling her fat nose. "It wasn't his fault. I had to admit it—"

"No, not that," I interrupt. "I get why you fessed up. Why'd you tell the lies to begin with?"

"Oh," she mutters, her face dropping. She takes a thin lip between her braces. "I'm a pariah," she mumbles softly. "No one wants to be around me."

Confused by her answer, I cock my head. But then her fallen face tugs at my heart, so I sigh dropping down to take a seat beside her on the wooden bench.

"What are you talking about, Tina?" I inquire.

She shakes her dark head of hair. "The only time anyone ever let me sit at their table or wanted to speak to me was if I had anything to say about Jack Moody," she explains.

My eyes drop to my shiny shoes. "What—that's not true," I try to encourage in a light tone, but I can't even get it out in a natural sounding voice.

Because she's right—no one, me included, really ever wanted to pay any mind to Tina Parker. Not until she had some juicy gossip to spill.

"It is true," she huffs and then turns her head to face me. "That's why I made it all up—I just wanted to be included."

Guilt hits like a thorn in my side. All those times I called Tina Parker names, excluded her from our group, whispered snide remarks about her—she felt all of it.

And that had to be a sucky feeling.

The library door swings open, and a large framed man comes stomping out. Emma McKinney pops her blonde head out from behind her father, her eyes still puffy, her shoulders slumped.

For a brief moment, her blue eyes meet mine and she offers the tiniest glimmer of a smile before her father tugs her by the arm to exit the building.

An ache stabs me in the heart. Because just like Tina Parker, maybe I had misunderstood her too.

Maybe I've been so in my own head, consumed by my own self, I didn't stop to understand the people around me.

It felt like the whole school was against me at times—like I was under attack. All eyes always on me, waiting for me to mess up so they could pounce and humiliate me.

But maybe everyone feels that way in high school. Perhaps I'm not as different as everyone else.

Could it be everyone else has been right all along? Does the world really not revolve around me?

Shaking the impossible thought out of my head, I stare back at the girl beside me.

"I'm sorry, Tina," I tell her with honest eyes.