Chapter Twenty Three

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Monday morning turns out to be just as crazy as I'd dreaded. 

The day gets off to a bad start and goes downhill from there. I get a ride to school with Zee and Alix like usual, but Alix is quiet all the way there. Zee must have told him what happened with Fable, and if not, he would have seen the crowds mobbing my house on the news or online. 

But he doesn't say a thing about it. 

I expected him to at least tease me. It's not like him to miss a chance to mock Fable. 

He's silent the whole way to school, while Zee chatters away nervously about the weather, soccer tryouts, the traffic - anything but Fable. 

Maybe Alix is just upset that I missed our band practice. I hope that's all. 

When Zee and I arrive at our lockers a few minutes before first bell, I find the words "GROUPIE SLUT" scrawled over the front of my locker in black sharpie. Jamie's scrubbing furiously at it with what looks like eye makeup remover and a kleenex.

Her face drops when she sees me.

She sighs heavily as she spots us. "I wanted to get this cleaned up before you got here. I guess you might as well see it for yourself. You've got some haters." 

"They're just jealous Ashling," Zee says.   

She squeezes my hand and searches my face with wide eyes and pursed lips, brows knitted together. I know this expression so well.

Pity.

So I put on my most convincing fake smile and swing open my locker like I don't have a care in the world. 

"I'm great," I lie. "Seriously, don't worry about me. I'm just glad all the craziness with Fable is over."

The message on the front of my locker makes it pretty clear though that this is far from over. 

I've already filled my friends in on everything, but the rest of the school only knows what they've seen on the news, and whatever rumors are doing the rounds online. Who knows what they've heard, and what they're telling each other. 

A lot of girls at my school must hate me right now.

Like whoever decided to decorate the front of my locker with sharpie. 

*****

We have fourth period free, so we go to a coffee shop five minutes walk from school. Technically it's against the rules to leave Huntson High's grounds during the school day, but we've been doing this since last year and no one's ever caught us. 

Even though the coffee doesn't have a thing on the Night Owl, proximity to school trumps quality. 

"Four slices of Apple Cinnamon cake, and four pumpkin spice lattes," Jamie tells the waiter. She insists on paying. 

"Pumpkin spice in June?" Grace says. 

"If there's a rule, I'll break it," Jamie says with a wink. 

To my surprise, the girls don't hassle me for details about the weekend. I told them everything over the phone - about meeting Felix, the limo ride, the angels attacking me, the panic attack in my bedroom - but it's never the same as hearing it in person. I thought they'd have a million questions, especially Jamie. 

But instead of quizzing me on every detail of my weekend from hell, Jamie fills me in on how their night went, and the dramas surrounding it.

"Just count yourself lucky you didn't have to deal with Grace's mom on Friday," she tells me. "That woman is cray."

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