Hope
Have you ever felt so embarrassed that your whole body heats up, your ears ring, and you suddenly forget how to breathe or speak? Like the ground should just open and swallow you whole?
Yeah…that's me right now.
I've just checked my bag, the one I fought Josie for, only to discover that the ID inside is actually Josie's.
Like, fuck me! Gosh!
The other things—makeup kits, pen box, books … none of them look like something that has ever belonged to me.
I collapse on my bed, covering my face with my blanket and moving my legs like I'm trying to kick the memory out of existence.
Why didn't I check? Why the fuck didn't I just take two seconds to look inside before throwing hands like a rabid squirrel and fighting an innocent girl?
My brain replays the scene like a cruel highlight reel—the yelling, the hair-pulling, the shocked look on Josie's face. Ugh.
And the worst part is that still don't know where my actual bag is.
I let out a muffled scream into the blanket.
