The Class Reject: A Martyr in Maelstrom (Book III)

85

The rest of the week came and went. But the only constant Miren knew was her room. She had stopped crying on Friday--the last day of school and the day of Penelope's wake. On Saturday, she had to wear earplugs to block out the excited, drunk voices from graduates. And by Tuesday, she had also graduated to at least opening the blinds, although she could not will herself to look out of the window.

Her phone was collecting dust on her nightstand; she hadn't touched it in almost a week. There was something both sickening and safe about the silence, especially now that roughly 90% of the students had escaped this scholastic prison for the summer.

As for Miren? She was gearing up for another exciting day of staring at the wall and contemplating if hunger warranted leaving the dormitory. Then again, she had signed up to be a summer school teaching assistant long before her professional relationship with the principal had been severed. So she'd have to come out sooner than later--

A knock on the door, made Miren jolt from the floor. Her heart threatened to burst with each staccato rap, and her knees ached from disuse as she rose to her feet and reluctantly opened the door. Jemma, who was dressed in black, stopped inside the space before she was technically invited.

"Jesus Christ," Jemma said, frowning. She was wearing sunglasses even though it was cloudy outside, but removed them to size up the space, the stale smell of ramen noodles seizing the air. "Have you left this room at all this week?"

"If you're here to judge me you can just get the fuck out," Miren deflected. But there was no bite in her voice. She had channeled her inner cat all week, and although she had spent much of it sleeping, she was still tired. But it was only a quarter after seven in the morning. "I don't know where Jeno is."

"You haven't answered your phone in days." Jemma folded her arms over her effortly glamourous but modest black midi dress. "I thought it be best to give you some space, but clearly that was a mistake."

"I appreciate you stopping by, but you really didn't have to," Miren said, scratching her head; she couldn't remember the last time she washed her hair. "I'm sure you can find better people to mourn with--"

"Stop. Just stop." Jemma held her hand up. "I'm not here to make you feel better, or to act better than you. I just thought you should know that Penelope's burial is today at ten at Meadow Mill Cemetery in Hartford," she told Miren. "The only people from Rinzen that will be there are Roger and the student council members. With the exception of my brother, obviously."

Miren shook her head, her lips quivering. "How am I supposed to go to her funeral? Haven't I mocked her enough?"

"Well, I know for a fact that Penelope never put flowers on your gravestone." Jemma rolled her eyes. "Look, you're not the reason she's dead, so go take a shower, stop doing whatever the fuck this is and be the bigger person."

"Jeno was the bigger person and now he's nowhere to be found. He gave me so much shit for running away and then he did the same thing. And I'm sure you know by now that your other brother and your ex-boyfriend were responsible for almost killing me. So forgive me if I'm in a weird headspace."

"Has it occured to you that the reason why it took so long for me to reach out is because I feel incredibly guilty? I still feel so furious." Her blue-green eyes were glimmering even in the dim room, lined with tears that were already beginning to spill. She grimaced. "I was at prom too. I noticed something off about Jeno toward the end of the night but I didn't say anything. I was too busy swooning over a stupid crown."

"You had every right to enjoy senior prom," Miren said softly. "I'm the one who inserted myself in your life. I ruined your happiness and your relationship and your family."