The Class Reject: A Pariah in Purgatory (Book II)

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

"You can't stay here forever."

"I never said I wanted to."

"Well, you wreak like you've been here forever."

"Look, I'm only here for my personal safety," Artemis said with a sigh, before rolling out of Jemma's bed and to her feet. But she did it so quickly that she became disoriented and declined against the mattress again. She rubbed her temple. "Penelope isn't even mad. How is she not mad? I mean, I don't care if she's mad, but that means she's definitely gone mad—"

"If you don't stop saying 'mad', I'll go mad." Jemma wrinkled her nose, pulling her backpack to the foot of her bed. "You already got one sick day. Now sober up and get the fuck out."

"Thanks den mother."

"Do you even seriously like Parker?" Jemma then said. "Because that's the only reason I could see you being upset. He's not a bad guy, but he's not exactly relationship material. And that's coming from me."

"Thanks for your valuable insight." Artemis rolled her eyes. "But I don't think so. Maybe that's why I'm upset. I'm letting all of these external problems weigh me down. I want to be better. But every time I try, I just fuck things up for others." She sighed. "Like Miren."

"Oh my God, shut the hell up about Miren!" Jemma declared, siting next to her friend. "If you want to do something, why don't you honor her memory like Olive? Messing around with Parker and scheming against Penelope just reduces you to their level. I'm not saying you're better or worse than them, but you gotta chill out and just do what you want to do." Jemma paused. "Unless it involves doing someone. You should def let me know before you sleep with some prick."

"Nice to know you have my back," Artemis said mockingly. But she mostly meant it. "Why can't I be more like you?"

"Because you care too much," Jemma replied, rubbing her shoulder. "Which is awesome, but as you can see, it's burning you out. Sometimes you just got to let things go. But you still have to be honest with yourself. Because when you stop doing that, you lose your way," she told her. "Now, I'm not going to bore you with a bunch of Hallmark-approved life quotes, but you really have to realize that this is your life. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. And if you're fortunate enough to have friends and family who genuinely care about you and great prospects for the future, then why be upset? Sure, it's okay to complain, but it's not okay to internalize everything." She rose to her feet, forcing her friend to face her. "Before you know it, you'll be in my shoes—student administration president. You're going to change the world. But you're not going to change anything in here." She pulled Artemis to her feet.

"Okay..." The junior rose up reluctantly. She hugged Jemma. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome," she said, slapping Artemis on the butt. "Now get the hell out."

Artemis pursed her lips at her before collecting her bag. "Alright. I'm leaving." With a wave she was gone, and Jemma could finally breathe a sigh of relief as her eyes found the ceiling.

"I can't keep doing this, Miren," she warned, shaking her head. "If you don't come clean soon, you bet I'll do it for you."

***

When Artemis reached her room, she shouldn't have been surprised to see who was sitting on her bed, but she was.

"Olive?" she said, blinking at the girl. "How did you—did Penelope let you in?"

"I let myself in," Olive replied, jiggling a pair of keys in the air. "You didn't take this set away from me when I got my new room assignment."

"And you didn't feel compelled to just turn it in?" Artemis frowned. Olive was another jokester type. Only her level of devious-ity seemed straddled somewhere between Jemma and the rambunctious boys of Rinzen.

Great.

"Where's the thrill in that?" Olive was still grinning when she handed the set to Artemis. "Anyway, I came here to offer you a proposition. Apparently everyone's too concerned with being rich and popular to be a decent human being."

"What is it?" Artemis said tiredly, brushing a hand through her short hair. She had slept most of the day, so she wasn't tired tired. But she was done being strung along in self-righteous schemes. Even if she recently had a few of her own.

"Did Parker told you about the documentary I wanted to make for Miren? It'll be a couple of interviews, there will be a lot of details about her success and triumphs, as well as the truth between her and Penelope, and how people need to stop condemning Miren for it." She shook her head. "It's a shame how content people are with knowing half of the story."

"Ignorance is bliss," Artemis challenged. But she agreed with her. "But something tells me you didn't break into my room just to tell me what you probably already told the masses."

Olive grinned, her thin lips as expressive as her chocolate brown eyes. "When I was with Parker, he told me about a dream you had about Miren visiting you at the hospital. He said it was impossible, but I hate that word, so I did some investigating. The Gloveria City Hospital offered me some footage of the main entrance, so I have a list of all your friends that popped in and out that day. The list is extensive and video quality is borderline laughable, so I'll have to do some more work there, but when I asked the main nurse on duty that night, she recalled referring a black girl to your room."

Artemis' eyes widened. There were only a handful of black girls that went to their school, and she was only on a friendship basis with half of them. She shook her head. "So what are you saying? That she's alive or something? Because I was high on meds during my entire stay there and I barely remember it."

"I have to do all this paperwork in order for them to release the video image of the reception area, but if it's her, then you know that something really big is going on."

"Or we could just be getting our hopes up." Artemis shook her head. "No. You need to stop this. Stop giving me false hope. Stop reminding me of how shitty I was to her. She's dead because there's no way a sane living person would hold out for so long."

"Maybe she just felt really unsafe. Maybe the fire was just the perfect escape," Olive tried to rationalize. "She could have seen the fire as it was going on and thrown her necklace in there or something. You have to think about this from more than one angle."

Artemis scoffed. "You say you're so desperate for the truth, but this all sounds like make-believe."

"Truth is stranger than fiction," Olive pushed. "Besides, all we need to do is see the video. If the fire really did occur the same night she visited you, then we know she's alive. And if she isn't, we move on. You move on." Her eyes were pleading. "But I need your help. I'm optimistic because I'm an outsider, but I know you want this—you need this—more than I do." She brought out her hand. "So what do you say?"

Like Penelope, Artemis spent a good minute just staring at it. She knew she had already lost more than she ever thought she could, but the idea of standing on the line between the horror that she already knew, and some fantastical reality, was more maddening than just picking a side - she had to pick a side. But it felt like picking poison.

So it would only be a matter of time until either decision killed her.