1642734778_punk-57-pdf

I finish getting my things and close my locker, Ten and I walking farther
down the hall. But then I glance up and notice more writing on the wall.
Everything was real.
I suck in a small breath, feeling my chest shake with a sob. It’s in large
black paint, surrounded by messy paint streaks of blue—my favorite color
—and purple. I stop and stare at it, my shoulders feeling heavy.
He broke into the school this weekend and did this.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ten whispers, this time sounding more
concerned. “Tell me the truth.”
I wipe away a tear before it has a chance to fall. “Nothing,” I say,
forcing my voice to stay even. “My sister’s just harassing me about mixing
whites and colors in the wash again, so you know…”
He scoffs, but I can tell he doesn’t buy that excuse.
I make a quick right into the stairwell. “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”
“Ryen?”
But I keep going, jogging up the stairs and pausing briefly when I see
yet another message written on the wall, reading it as I pass by.
I didn’t mean to lie, but I meant every kiss.
Damn him. I break into a run.
I shouldn’t have come to school today. I hoped he’d gone back to
Thunder Bay, but he must’ve painted those messages last night. There are
too many people in the school over the weekend and too much of a chance
the staff or janitors would’ve gotten all of it taken down by this morning if
he’d done it earlier than that.