“Of course you can. It’s just . . . I try to make an effort to include you and invite you to meet my friends, and you just act like what you do is so special, like I could never fit in with your friends or something.”
I glanced up at Mr. Lee. He was focusing on some other kid’s work and not paying any attention to us. I didn’t want a scene. “You already know Fern. You could fit in with her,” I said. “It isn’t about who my friends are. It’s about what we do. You would have hated that concert.”
Josephine scowled. “Yeah. Well, you know what I told you about Fern. I wouldn’t be so quick to become her best friend.”
“Oh, really?” I turned on her, narrowing my eyes. I had to really concentrate to keep my voice low. “Well, I heard some stuff about you too, Josephine.”
“What?”
“About your mother’s boyfriend,” I hissed. “About how you slept with him. And that’s why you and your mother moved away.”
She stared at me, speechless, her eyes round and wet. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “What do you know about that?”
“Everyone knows.” I was being a jerk. I knew it. But she had to understand what a hypocrite she was, spreading rumours about Fern, when she also had rumours going around about her.
“That’s . . . you . . . you don’t understand . . .”
I shook my head in disgust, mainly at myself, and tried to soften my voice. “Listen, it’s your business. All I’m trying to say is that you should be careful when you’re spreading gossip. Because there’s gossip about you too. If you don’t want people talking about you, don’t talk about other people.”
Josephine stared at me, her shoulders shuddering as she tried not to burst into tears, then she finally got up and hurried out of the classroom. Mr. Lee watched her and then looked at me. I shrugged and went back to my drawing.
I did feel bad. Josephine had been my first real friend, and I understood why she would be jealous that I was meeting people and having fun without her. She had been catty and immature about the Fern rumours. But still.
xXx
When she returned and silently resumed her apple drawing, I leaned closer to her. I was ashamed of myself. I knew I should pity people like Josephine, who weren’t strong enough to be happy with themselves and needed to put other people down to make themselves feel less jealous. “Hey,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I said that.”
She looked at me sideways. “It’s none of your business, what happened in that situation.”
“I know.”
“I won’t say anything bad about Fern again. But you have to promise that you will never, never mention that stuff to me ever again.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Rachel.”
Obviously Josephine had been through something bad. Yvonne had made it seem like this scandalous, funny thing, with Josephine salaciously stealing her mother’s boyfriend, but obviously that hadn’t been the situation. I wanted to ask Josephine what happened, but she focused on her drawing for the rest of the class, ignoring me, her cheeks red. I remembered how in the car, it had occurred to me that the guy sounded like a child molester. This seemed like a more accurate scenario, based on the facts I knew and on Josephine’s reaction. I should never have brought it up. There was a big difference between these two rumours, one being a friend in a peacock-killing Satanic cult and the other one having been abused by her mother’s boyfriend. One was ridiculous. The other, possible, and devastating.
xXx
At lunch Josephine made small talk but avoided looking at me. She was still upset, and that was fine with me. She had other friends if she wanted to talk about what had happened to her, because she obviously wasn’t going to confide in me. A small voice inside me suggested that no one would want to confide in someone who would treat her situation so callously.
After school, I shut my locker and slung my book bag over my shoulder. I was about to head down the hall when I felt a tap. It was Craig.
“Hey,” he said and grinned.
“How are you?” I asked. He really was cute.
“Not bad. How’s the hand?”