It was our first test of the year, and according to Mr. Wolder, only three of us got A’s and only one of us got an A+.
From my desk in the back of the classroom, I saw Veronica smile over her shoulder at her friend Elise, who sat right behind her.
Elise was pretty and light-skinned, and her parents were solidly middle class. But she wasn’t as beautiful or as light as Veronica. And when her parents died, she would not be set for life like Veronica. But just like Corey, Elise was almost slovenly grateful to be friends with a Farrell.
However, unlike James with Corey, I never felt that Veronica actually took Elise seriously as a friend. It was more like Elise was a less pretty stand-in for Tammy Farrell—a substitute to laugh at and hang on every catty word that came out of Veronica’s mouth until she could meet up with her little sister for lunch.
My heart sank when I saw Veronica smile at Elise, because it wasn’t a regular smile. It was smug. And not smug like I got an A, but smug like I got the A+.
At that moment I saw two things clearly:
1. I was sure of every single answer I had written down for that test because I had more time to study than most due to me not having a social life and me being determined to escape to college as soon as I graduated from this hellhole called high school. My test was perfect.
2. Veronica was not the kind of girl who liked coming in second place. Once the announcement was made, she’d definitely turn around and look at me. Really look at me. Just like she had looked straight at me the night before. But now it was daytime, and she was a smart girl. She’d figure it out. . . .
I raised my hand for a bathroom pass.
Mr. Wolder laughed and said, “Not yet, Davidia. Let me announce these A’s first.”
My disappointment must have been evident on my face, because he laughed again. “Oh, don’t look like that. Look it here, you got the A+. Good job, Davidia.”
He held out three pages stapled together, with a huge A+ written on the top in red marker. I could feel Veronica’s eyes on me, knew they were narrowed into icy slits.
I didn’t take the paper. It was too cold to lift my arm away from the warmth of my body, but Mr. Wolder put the test down on my desk anyway.
“Davidia Jones got the A+, but Veronica Farrell got the next highest grade, a 95. Good job, Veronica.”
He went on to the third person’s name, but I couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen. Dread was now a taste in my mouth, like silver filling up my throat.
Veronica leaned over to whisper to Elise.
“Who’s that?” I could read the question coming off her lips.
Elise looked over her shoulder at me, then turned back around to answer.
I couldn’t see her lips, but I knew her answer. “That’s Davidia Jones. But everybody call her Monkey Night.”
And then an almost comical expression of faux recognition came over Veronica’s face. “Oh, Monkey Night,” she repeated, just loud enough for me and a few others to hear. “I thought I smelled something ugly in here.”
All the students in my row fell out laughing.
But Mr. Wolder didn’t look up from passing out his papers. He must not have heard Veronica, or maybe he didn’t want to hear her. There was only so much a teacher could do, and when someone like me walked in, an ugly girl who didn’t talk, a lot of teachers wrote me off. You can’t save a child who won’t talk to you. You can’t defend someone who will always be made fun of no matter what they did. And they didn’t get paid enough, and they were tired. I got that, and fully blamed Cora for this situation.
In fact, at that moment I hated her for putting me in this position. Just when I had almost succeeded at becoming invisible, she had to go and make friends with the father of the meanest girl in school.
I had seen Veronica with James in the hallways. All smiles for him. The hardness of her gaze softening whenever she was in his presence. She loved her brother, and she probably loved her father. And she wasn’t the sort of girl who let things like this go.
Goddamn Cora.