Chapter 6: Trash and Truths
After dinner, during the long break, I went to take out the trash as usual.
There wasn't a trash can in the classroom; you had to go to the trash room on each floor.
The hallways smelled faintly of disinfectant and cafeteria food. I used to take Caleb's trash out too, pretending it was just on my way.
Eventually, everyone started giving me their trash.
But this time, I didn't want to bother with anyone.
"Thanks, Lila! I love hardworking, capable girls the most!" Aubrey smiled, hanging a big bag of trash on my hand.
She always turned it into a performance, her voice syrupy sweet. But I coldly refused, "I'm not your maid!"
Aubrey was stunned, her eyes reddening with hurt.
A group of classmates whispered behind my back:
"What's wrong with her today?"
"Nothing's wrong, she's just jealous!"
"Senior year is precious—she could just take it since she's passing by. We have papers to do."
The entitlement in their voices made me want to scream. Finally, Caleb stood up and chased after me out of the classroom.
He called my name from behind, but I pretended not to hear, never looking back.
After circling the track and returning to the classroom, I found a pink pack of tampons on my desk.
Caleb looked at me seriously, his dark eyes steady, and said softly:
"About this morning... I'm sorry."
His voice was almost gentle, the words catching on the quiet. So, did he finally understand?
Did he buy this just to apologize?
My soft heart lasted only a second, shattered by his next words:
"Aubrey really values your friendship. Don't let my mistake affect her. When she comes back, apologize and comfort her. You shouldn't have been mean to her!"
Only then did I notice, in the desk that Caleb was blocking with his body, there was a huge bag of tampons and pads—he'd bought every brand and type for Aubrey to choose from, after sneaking out during lunch!
To keep me from "bullying" Aubrey, he casually tossed me a pack to brush me off—just to get rid of an unimportant classmate like me.
The classroom felt colder, my seat somehow lonelier than ever.