I checked my hair in my locker mirror before I shut it with my French book in hand. “Ugh,” I scoffed, seeing him flirt with yet another girl passed my locker, trying to be the one person I knew he wasn’t. “What?” asked Ali, my best friend, following my gaze before she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Whore…” she mumbled, grabbing the same book out of her locker next to mine. “Who?”

“Her… him? Does it honestly matter?” she said jokingly but with a hurtful truth; I knew she was right.

I watched as Hannah placed her hand on his arm in a flirty way, asking him to go out for a movie I’m sure. Whore… I mimicked in my head. He smiled and picked up her hand, holding it in his for a second longer than he really needed to. Ali stared with me, blowing a bubble as she rolled her eyes, sliding in front of my view so I couldn’t see his answer although I’m positive it was a yes.

“How about a spa night? You, me, and a few other of the girls; we can totally deck each other out,” she insisted, knowing I was not only hurt but also a little mad.

“I don’t think I’m up for it,” I said, inching my books closer to me.

“Yeah you’re right,” she said, scratching at wearing away nail polish on her thumb, “who needs personal hygiene anyway. Hey!” she said smiling with another idea, “Movie night? Those always make any of us feel better. Chick flicks, my house? All you can eat popcorn, chips, fattening delicious ice-cream, and anything you can think chocolate?”

I hesitated, not sure I wanted to do anything tonight now, “You know what? You don’t even get a choice; my house, tonight, bring your night bag.”

“Whatever,” I said lifeless, “we better get to French class. Monsieur Williams will freak if we’re late again.”

“Yeah, because missing a few minutes of French would just be oh so terrifying,” she said, slamming her locker door shut and walking with me, putting the nasty little scene that just went down behind us.