Learning Curve

Scottie

When Julia knocked on my dorm room door two hours ago, I tried to ignore her, but she didn’t stop knocking for fifteen minutes straight.

Other than ordering a pair of noise-canceling headphones on one-hour delivery, I didn’t have any other choice than to let her in when I finally answered the door to half the floor out of their rooms, watching her.

She peels her banana on the futon beside me now, while Love is Blind plays on my television.

She hasn’t asked me about my mom or anything, really. Instead, sitting in silence with me while the minutes tick the day away.

She’s a good friend—probably the best friend I’ve ever had—but I’m in no mood to entertain. I’m hoping if I ignore her long enough, she’ll finally decide to leave.

Julia’s phone pings from her purse, and she stands up to grab it off my bed. She sits back down beside me and types out a response to whoever it is, but I don’t bother asking about it. There’s too high a probability that it’s someone asking about “Scottie’s alcoholic mom.”

“You don’t have to stay here,” I tell her again when she drops her phone facedown in her lap. “I know that you’re being a good friend and I appreciate it, but I’ll be okay.”

“You know,” she says, her voice almost painfully soft, “I know you will be. You’re a brilliant, capable, strong person whom I’m proud to call my friend. But it’s also okay not to be okay right now.”

I nod, tears spilling over in an instant while my lips quiver. Just as I feared, I can’t hold back.

She wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to her side. She runs her fingers through my hair in long, gentle strokes. “I’m so sorry, Scottie. I wish I had more to say, advice to give, but I have no idea what it’s like to be in your shoes, so I’m not going to pretend I do. But I’m here for you. And I’m going to be here for you for as long as it takes.”

The stupid tears soak into last night’s sweater that I’m still wearing. I haven’t gotten the courage to go shower, and without a clean body, it feels pointless to change. “Thanks, Jules.”

We both stare at the television as another two episodes of Love is Blind play in their entirety. When a third episode starts to play, Julia is the one to break the silence.

“I don’t know if you want to know this, but Finn beat the shit out of Dane last night.”

My body freezes.

“The cops got involved. Even went to Finn’s dorm this morning and arrested him because Dane wanted to press charges.”

I sit up instantly and meet her eyes, panic making mine bulge.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t go the way Dane or Nadine wanted. They’re being charged for harassment for the texts they sent you—using an app to scramble their number and delay their send time—and cybercrimes that include revenge porn because of the video Nadine posted online. They’re also expelled from Dickson.”

My head spins so hard I have to grip the couch to keep my balance. “H-how do you know all of this?”

“Ace told me,” she says with a small smile. “Finn also texted me to check on you, but I haven’t heard from him again since I texted him back.”

“Finn texted?”

She nods. “I think he wanted to text you, but he didn’t want to add any stress to your plate.” I swallow a thick ball of saliva as she keeps going. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if the campus police have tried to contact you. I know they contacted your mom, and she’s already gone to the station and given a statement. Ace is pretty sure she’s going to press charges against Dane and Nadine for releasing that video without her permission, and the officers are doing their best to scrub it from the internet too.”

I scoff. She and I both know that getting something off the internet once it’s on there is about as likely as witnessing a unicorn growing its wings.

It’s fucking impossible, and for all I know, the damn thing is already viral. There’s no guarantee Wren or my dad haven’t already seen it.

My stomach sinks to my feet and then shoots back up like a rocket until it lodges itself into my throat. I feel sick and overwhelmed and anxious. So unbelievably anxious.

There’s so much to process.

I scramble off the futon and over to my bed, digging through my messy comforter until I find my phone. I turned it off hours ago when it all became too much again.

I hold the button to power it on, and it only takes a few seconds to connect to the cell network. Notifications flood in once again.

Social media notifications. Texts from my mom and Kayla and Ace and Blake. A million calls and almost as many voice mails.

I don’t dare click on any of them.

The whole world might as well be crashing in on me all over again. I turn my phone back off and toss it back onto my bed, and Julia watches with concern as I dart back into my half bathroom to throw up again.

The porcelain of the toilet feels cold against my hot, clammy skin, and I rest my forehead on the seat as soon as I’m done. Julia crouches beside me, rubbing at my back in soft, concentric circles. “It’s going to be okay, Scottie. I promise.”

I hear her. I do. But I’m having a hard time believing that anything will ever be okay again.