But then a tray clinks down in front of me and I look up to see Alex.

“Mind?” she asks.

I smile back. It’s small and sad, but it’s real. So I guess that’s pretty good.

It’s quiet for a moment, awkward. I wish she’d ask me something ridiculous, like which was better on a soft pretzel, mustard or cheese? She doesn’t. Instead she looks right to the elephant in the room. “So. Homecoming.”

I blink and watch as she shoves a huge piece of cookie into her mouth.

“Yeah. That was fun, huh?”

She looks around for a second, checking out all the eyes watching us.

“I did want to ask, how did everything go, you know, with Brandon?”

Her eyes grow wide. “That part actually was awesome. First Mr. Shelf slammed him into a locker when he tried to hit Marissa after she told him what we’d done. He flipped out, royally. We found out later that his dad flew home early from his business trip and yanked Brandon out of school. Word is his parents are sending him to military school. Good-bye football scholarship. Good-bye dreams of fame and sports stardom.”

“Military school?” I think of the janitor. I think of Luis. I think of my father. “They didn’t arrest him?”

Alex shakes her head, and now a flash of anger crosses her face. “No. They should. But at least he didn’t totally get away with it.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess. Too bad I had to go and ruin our celebration, huh?”

“You ruined it? By what, just being you?”

I shrug. “Yeah, kinda.”

“You’re the only reason it happened in the first place. Marissa would still be pinned under that dick if you hadn’t put it all together. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you think, Anna.”

I take a deep breath. “I don’t feel very strong.”

Alex nudges my shoe with hers and smiles. “Life’s job is to sit around and wait for the best opportunity to kick us in the balls. Our job is to get up and kick back. You helped Marissa do that. Now it’s your turn.”

My lips actually curl into an almost kind of smile. Life advice from Alex is much better than I expected.

Jen walks up and sits next to me without a word. I was her friend when no one else was; guess she’s returning the favor. It does feel good to not be so alone. But the stares, the whispers, still close in on me.

“Besides, the only people who care about that shit don’t matter,” Alex says, winking at Jen.

I look to the empty seat at my right.

“He’ll come around,” Jen says.

My stomach twists. No one else speaks for a while. We munch on our food and listen to voices ringing around us. I don’t hear anyone talking about me right now—there are too many voices for that—but I’m sure they are.

The question is, how in the world am I supposed to stand up for myself like Alex said? The janitor’s gone, but the real enemy, the one that’s haunted me every step of the way, still lives inside me. And it always will until I find the courage to face my fear.

I jump when a third tray clinks down. I look up to see Jackson. I smile at him, but he doesn’t smile back. He just looks at me, like he’s still trying to make sense of our conversation yesterday. Of all of this.

Well, that makes two of us.

A passing senior coughs out “whore” as he passes us, and I freeze. Seriously? We’re back to that?

Jackson’s out of his seat and about to go after the guy, but I take his arm, and my touch seems to shock him out of it. He still looks pissed, though.

“He can’t talk to you like that,” he says without looking at me.

I shrug. “He’s just telling the truth.”

Jackson glances at the rest of the group, not like he’s looking to them for backup, more like he’s making sure he has everyone’s attention. Then he looks back at me.

“You’re not a whore,” he says. “I don’t care what the janitor said.”

He doesn’t get it. But it’s nice of him to stick up for me.

“Let him go,” I say. “People can say whatever they want.”

Jackson sits back down, and everyone at the table falls back into that thick silence.

“So are we going to ignore this the rest of our lives?” Alex says just before shoving a piece of a Fudge Round into her face. “I mean, that’s okay if we are. I just want to be clear.”

I actually smirk. Leave it to Alex to be the blunt one.

“Ask, if you want to know,” I say in a flat voice.

Jackson meets my eyes. He knows some of the truth. But he doesn’t know it all.

“The prostitute thing,” Alex says. “You did really do it, right? ’Cause we heard the guy that attacked you, and it—” She stops, like she ran out of words or something.

I nod, but then I shrug. “It’s complicated.”

Jackson wants the truth, right? I guess it’s time he got a bigger piece. That they all got a bigger piece. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that eventually the truth will come out. Hiding it just delays the inevitable.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Alex says. “Isn’t it just sex? What’s wrong with you making a little money?”

“It’s not just sex,” I say.

An odd look crosses both of their faces. Jackson is still as stone. Did they expect me to defend it? Maybe. It’s not like I’ve been afraid to call myself a whore. I guess they thought I was proud or something.

When they say nothing, I continue.

“When you’re a prostitute, it’s not like you get to choose who you do it with. Imagine being forced to do it”—I rack my brain for the most disgusting person in school—“with Mr. Pickering,” I say. He’s an old, fat math teacher I’ve seen walking the halls. “Then Mr. Schueller.” Our science teacher. “Then Mrs. Timmins.” Our creepy gym teacher. “All in one night.”

“Ew.”

“Sex isn’t simple. Not when you’re a prostitute,” I say, no longer looking at them. I stare out into the sea of teenage heads around me. “Even if you did it with just attractive men, you lose everything you are. You have no choices, and everyone sees you as sex, nothing more.”

Apparently I’m on a roll. The words just fall out of my mouth, things I didn’t even know I was thinking. They all stare like I’ve just grown another head and they want to study it.

“You become nothing. Because that’s the thing about sex—it’s part of you. Giving it away for the wrong reasons, against your will…it changes you. Not always for the better. Every time you do that, you lose a part of yourself until…you have nothing left.”

No one speaks, and I look down at my hands. They’re shaking, just a little.

“I have nothing left,” I whisper.

They still don’t speak. Jackson looks at me, but I can’t read him anymore. I can’t tell if he’s furious at finding out the whole truth. I can’t tell if he pities me. I can’t tell if he hates me.

I take a bite of my gooey mac and cheese and then take a sip of juice.

“Then why would you do it?” Jen asks quietly.

Jen. After what Brandon did to her, she’s probably the one who knows what I went through. But it’s hard to tell how much she understands when I barely get it myself, and I’m the one who lived it.

How do I explain that I didn’t choose it? That I didn’t know how to say no? That I did it for Luis when I won’t talk about him?

Does Luis even understand what he did to me?

I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what else to say. And honestly, do I want to stick around and see them realize they shouldn’t be friends with me? They will. Now that they have a taste of who I really am.

“I have to go,” I blurt out, and then I walk out alone. I go outside to the picnic area, and thankfully since it’s about thirty degrees, no one else is out here.

“Hey.”

I whip around to see Jackson, his arms crossed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Not really, no. How about you?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

He takes a step forward, then seems to understand that I’m about to say something and need a minute to get up the nerve.

Finally, I ask, “Do you hate me?”