Traitors

I awoke with a pounding headache as I reached for my phone, checking the time only to see thousands of messages across all social media platforms coming from all of my friends, and then some. What could they want?

Ring ring. 

Ring ring. 

It was Monica, one of my best friends, what could she want? It’s not like she wants to suddenly talk to me, she basically ditched me at Colin’s party yesterday. Colin’s my boyfriend, and we’ve been together for a year, well, almost a year. It would be exactly a year in a couple of days, and I was beyond excited.

I let the phone ring as I went to the bathroom. Once I came back, my phone was being blown up over and over again. What the hell?

I made my bed and took my phone, unlocked it, and scrolled through Instagram. I scrolled through everyone’s stories and posts from the party only to see that most of them were of a couple kissing. What was so important about that? Why was I being notified? I don’t even know either of them. 

I struggled to keep my eyes awake as I changed out of my pajamas and into my lacrosse uniform. It was Saturday, though I had practice. 

Ding.

Another notification went off on my phone as I started to do my hair, my phone vibrating off of my dresser and onto the carpeted floor. I picked it up to see a text from Monica.

“‘I’m sorry Amy’.” I read the message aloud. What could that mean? 

What did she have to apologize for? Did she do something? I mean, I would’ve known if she’s done something bad, right? She tells me everything, we tell each other everything. Was she embarrassed about something? I mean, how could she be embarrassed about anything? She’s perfect, she’s the perfect girl. Everyone either wants Monica Davidson, or wants to be her. She’s one of the most popular girls in our whole school, and she knows a lot of people. At one point, there was a hashtag created on Instagram and Tik Tok because of our last names; Rivers and Davidson. We’re the most popular duo that people always see and post about constantly, she’s my best friend.

Right?

I went downstairs to meet my sister so she could drive me to practice, her laughing at her phone and staring at me.

Did I miss something?

“Did I miss something?” I asked aloud. My sister’s focus shot up to me, her blue eyes penetrating mine. 

“No, nothing.” Abigail’s gaze shot back to her phone as she laughed again, then looked back up at me. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” We both threw on our shoes and headed out the front door. “What were you laughing at?”

“Nothing important.”

“Are you being honest?”

“Yeah yeah, completely honest.” Abigail took out her keys and unlocked the car.

Neither of us talked the whole ride there, not even when we got to the school field. Not for warm-ups, nothing. I spotted Monica in the distance, sitting alone on the grass during one of our water breaks, her staring in my direction. I smiled and waved, she smiled back, but it looked fake, like she was forcing it.

Why was she forcing herself to smile at me? Or was she just annoyed? Do I even go over there?

Is she going to be more annoyed if I walk over to her? It’s worth a shot, right?

“You wanna join me?” I asked as I walked over.

“Oh, yeah sure.” She sounded surprised. Why was she surprised? She’s my best friend, why wouldn’t I invite her to join me?

Right?

Once we finished our drills and it was time to go home, I noticed the girls on the varsity team on the benches in the parking lot whispering, then stopping as I approached them. I was friendly with them, at least I thought I was.

Were they talking about me?

Did I do something? I spoke to them only for a couple of minutes until I felt like they no longer wanted me there, like my presence was a burden to them. 

Was I a burden?

I left and waited by the car for my sister only to see her in the distance talking to the girls on the varsity team that were sitting on the bench before, looking in my direction as they stared at their phones. I started to feel embarrassed and felt my face flush with shame. What were they talking about? Was it about me? Was it about Monica?

Why wouldn’t my sister tell me what was happening? Was she involved somehow? Endless amounts of questions filled my brain as I tried to wrap it around what was happening. What the hell was happening? What in the absolute hell could be so important that it involved-

I paused.

The photo.

I threw my bag on the floor and opened my phone to Instagram, scrolling through the posts from the party. Most of them were of the same photo, of the couple kissing, though they were all blurry. I went through people’s photo dumps on their stories trying to find a clear image, though I wish I didn’t.

I really wish I didn’t. 

I wish that I had just left it alone. 

The photo was clear, almost too clear, like it was edited, but it wasn’t. I wanted to sink into the ground. I really wish it was edited. 

I really wish it was. I wanted to pretend I never saw it. I tried to convince myself that I was dreaming, or that it was fake and was actually edited, but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

I felt my heart sink as I looked at it, scanning every detail of the photo. Confusion overwhelmed me as I felt tears form.

I saw my tears drip onto the concrete as I read the caption: Amy River’s boyfriend Colin Baxter kissing Monica Davidson.