Dee leaned over and picked my eraser up off the floor. She tossed it onto my desk and said, “Nice.”

*   *   *

The next morning, on the way to school, I am thinking about what Dee said. Why doesn’t anyone ever stop these guys?

How different would the school be if they were as afraid as I am, if there were actual consequences for their actions, if they were somehow kept in line?

I text the mystery number back. I know it’s her.

Ok. Let’s meet.

And it begins.

Chapter 11

11

Episode 70 2:01

Some of my favorite movie heroes are just searching for someone who understands them or who can help them reach their potential. And when they find someone? That’s when things really get interesting. Look at Veronica Sawyer, from Heathers, for instance; look how JD lights a fire under her ass, how she gets caught up in his energy.

“My specialty is teen revenge films,” Dee says.

I nod, but I’m just taking her in. Until now, I’ve mostly avoided her, but now, sitting here, I can’t take my eyes off her. She is tall, confident, wild haired, like she’s made of steel wool and leather, Pop Rocks and gasoline. A stranger-cowgirl. She looks right into my eyes when she talks, like there is no one else.

She is nothing like me.

And I realize it’s something else: I don’t feel alone.

“I like your channel. You know a lot—like, a shit-ton, actually—about films.”

I smile. “Uh, thanks. So … why did you only join partway through the year?”

“Dad changed jobs. You know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Lucky me.”

We met at the spot where I used to meet Lottie before school. Lottie, who is never there anymore. Dee met me here, knew right away where to find me. I steal a look at her, and she catches me and grins. A shiver, a ripple runs through me. We are approaching the school parking lot, where kids are pulling up in all manner of nice and shitty cars; others are outside smoking and gathering in groups. Dee stops, and I look over at her.

“So, hey,” she says, tugging my arm, looking up at the parking lot, a little surreptitiously. “Do you wanna have some fun?”

“What do you mean? We have school.”

Luke and his friends walk by, and he knocks into me and mutters, “Fucking weirdo.”

Dee glares after him, then turns back to me. “Do we?”

“What else are we going to do?”

“The possibilities are endless. I don’t know about you, but I do not feel like going today.” She gestures at the sky, where the clouds have made themselves scarce, where the sun is shining like a big, gorgeous attention whore. “It’s a beautiful day.”

I nod yeah, it is. But.

“It’s up to you. But I’m not going to school.”