Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

007. Paper Thin

007. Paper Thin

At Aquino High, a secret can destroy you.

The day passes so agonizingly slowly that I wonder if I skipped over a good night's sleep and my Thursday and Friday blended together. I stubbornly avoid everyone in my calculus class, including Cassidy, for the better half of the morning, and it isn't until my best friend confronts me in the cafeteria line that I realize my façade can't last forever.

"I've tried to say hi to you five times," she says in way of greeting as I shoulder past her to grab a napkin from the dispenser. "What's wrong?"

I grumble in acknowledgement and drop a plastic fork, knife, and spoon onto my tray. As much as I want to forget about what happened in calc class, I can't, because every time I try my face flushes all over again with the newly fresh memory.

"You can't be mad forever about calc, you know." She follows close behind me as I take a plate of grilled chicken, as if she's afraid I'll try to slip away.

When I finally turn to look at her, I see that her chocolate brown eyes are wide as she's staring at me. She's worried—and I owe it to my best friend not to take out my mood on her. "Sorry," I say softly, in case Allison is nearby. "I'm more angry at my sister than anything."

"You'll find a way to get back at her."

For some reason, that makes me think of the Post-It note system again: how everything at Aquino High is run based on ratings, revenge, and the clawing to the top of the hierarchy. Everything's out in the open and nothing can be hidden for long—because at Aquino High, a secret can destroy you.

Maybe it's a product of being part of the student body for so long, but it strikes me suddenly that Cassidy and I are just as bad as Allison, Celia, and all the rest. We all wear blinders as we stare at our classmates, judging them and evaluating them as if they're constantly under a microscope. It's considered the norm to gauge someone based solely on their Post-It ranking, as if a guy's rating defines you. And if you feel threatened by anyone, it's considered perfectly acceptable to scrape for any possible revenge.

And then, it hits me even harder: I don't really want to be a part of that anymore.

Someone bumps into me from behind me in line and I turn around to see Luke Horton mumbling an apology. Luke—the Star Wars nerd I so quickly dismissed when Spencer suggested he was my secret admirer. Now, I realize that he isn't so bad after all. Never someone I'd be attracted to, but that doesn't make him the enemy.

"Sorry." He apologizes again, straightening his beanie on his head. I realize I don't even know what his hair looks like under that permanent fixture.

I shift my tray in my hand, locking eyes with him for the first time I can remember. "It's no problem. My fault."

The side of his mouth lifts into a smile and I match his friendly gaze, and there's a moment of solidarity between us before Cassidy grabs me by the elbow and drags me to the checkout line.

Somehow, I feel better after the encounter with Luke, and by the time I sit down between Brynn and Cassidy I'm almost entirely cheered up. I can't let my sister's actions get under my skin—after all, that's exactly what she wants.

"Going to Taylor's party on Friday?" Brynn asks me as I steal a baked chip from her bag.

I chew, stalling, and she must realize my hesitation because she coaxes, "Come on. It'll be fun. You should definitely go, especially since you missed Liam's party on Monday."