Chapter Nineteen

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Starkton, Michigan is a small town. The population lingers in the low thousands. Our graduating class only has sixty kids. With a few exceptions—Hank and myself being two of them—everyone is privy to everyone else's business. News travels fast, and in a place this mundane, people have nothing better to do than talk.

So when the rumor that Evan Miller and Jessica Jermain pulled the plug on their two-year relationship began to circulate through the hallways, I wasn't surprised. I mean, yes, I was shocked to hear that the King and Queen parted ways, but the fact that people were already tittle-tattling about it didn't surprise me in the slightest.

It's been three days since the alleged breakup. Supposedly, Evan dumped her. That's what Damian told me. He heard it from Craig Jones, who heard it from Nicole Vandenberg, who—and this is just hearsay—heard it from Jessica herself.

I don't know what really happened, and I don't care. Evan and Jessica have never been my favorite people. They've done everything in their power to make my friends and me feel unwelcome. Evan's verbal abuse has reduced me to tears on more than one occasion. Jessica's self-absorption and apathy toward anything and anyone that doesn't affect her bewilders me. I can't relate to them. Frankly, I don't want to.

"I feel bad for her." Damian leans against his locker, his eyes glued to the brunette cheerleader on the opposite side of the hall. "I remember when Haven dumped me. It hurt like hell."

I sigh. "I'm sure she has a line of suitors waiting to sweep her off her feet. Trust me, she won't be single for long."

"I know." His lips twist into a frown at the thought. He's just as in love with her as he was when we were twelve.

I roll my eyes. I was sympathetic when Haven stomped on his heart, but his obsession with our resident cheer captain baffles me. Other than her glossy hair, long legs, and trim waist, what does he see in her?

I say goodbye to Damian and head to the girl's washroom, where I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Compared to Jessica, I'm so plain. My dark hair falls to my shoulders in lifeless waves. My skin is ashen and makeup-free. I love my emerald eyes, but even they pale in comparison to Jessica's twinkling, greenish-brown irises.

The only pretty thing about me is the 'J' that dangles from my neck. It glistens under the fluorescent light, making me think of the boy who gave it to me.

"What are you so smiley about?"

I look to my right to see Jessica standing next to me. I didn't hear her come in.

"I'm not smiley," I rebut, hoping she'll hear the malice in my voice and leave me alone.

"You were holding your necklace and smiling. Did your boyfriend give it to you?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, he did."

"It's really pretty."

"Um, thanks." I'm so confused. Why is she being nice to me?

"Hey, so I want to ask you something," she announces, inching closer to me. I can see the individual freckles on her nose. "Ada Fitzpatrick... were the rumors true? Could she really talk to ghosts?"

My blood boils. If she wants to use me as the punchline in her latest joke, then fine, but how dare she drag Ada's name through the mud.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jessica," I reply coldly.

"You two were attached at the hip last year. I just figured she would have confided in you about it."

"I'd tell you to ask her yourself, but she's dead, so—"

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