Immaculate
“That, of course, only added to my fears that everyone was analyzing my every movement, speculating about what devastating secret could possibly be putting me through so much anguish. And so my Friday at school passed, as usual, in a blur of dodging glances in the hallway, head tucked like a defensive linebacker as I sprinted from class to class. I was desperate to avoid Izzy and Nate, and now Arielle Fowler was on that list, too—I could swear she had been staring at me during lunch again. But why? She’d certainly never shown any interest in me before. She’d barely ever acknowledged that I existed at all. What would she be saying now to all her sycophantic cheerleading and drama groupies about me? Just thinking about those cool, calculating blue eyes from across the cafeteria gave me the chills for the rest of the afternoon. The three-o’clock bell that marked the official start to the weekend did little to comfort me, not with a long closing shift at Frankie’s to get through first.
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