So, should we place that Out of Order sign permanently on the door?
If I was being driven crazy by the rumors going around the school that Veronica had some sort of nervous breakdown because she didn't get the Kane scholarship then I wonder what Veronica was actually going through.
Sure, we had all heard the morning news announcement in which it'd been announced that Madison Sinclair had indeed just gotten richer by having the highest senior GPA. God knows how she actually achieved that; but, yeah, Veronica hadn't won. It was one of those rare moments in which the tables turned around and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.
There were the brief fluttering rumors that Duncan had been the cause of the reason why she didn't get it (though there would have been equal rumors had she gotten it anyway) - and who really put a lot of money where Carrie Bishop's mouth was?
I knew it had to be bothering Veronica anyway. Especially when I pass by her lockers and see the Out of Order sign up on the bathroom, conveniently her bat-signal. It wasn't as if she wasn't ever the talk of everyone. That's all any of us were. They just continued to find bigger and better rumors.
And I couldn't claim to not be a participant in doing some leg work in spreading as much as I could about Veronica's reputation in the past. Hell, half of a stuff had been made up by me.
I exhaled, shoving some of my books in my locker before retreating towards Veronica's girls'-bathroom-practically-office. Checking the door, she'd forgotten to lock it, I slipped inside. Veronica was sitting at one of the sinks, on a counter with far too many memories. If I knew what to saw I wouldn't be standing in the door just watching her think that her future is coming apart just because of a stupid scholarship in Lilly's name that should rightfully be going to her.
I shut the door behind me and move to take one of her hands.
"Hey," I say quietly. The look in her eyes as she glances up to me kills me inside. It's one of those 'there's a reason I'm cynical' look. Of course. The world is never fair, but we both know that by now.
"Don't do this okay," I start - and I know just as soon as I start I'm going to get told off by here. One of those: you have money speeches, you can't talk. "Don't do this to yourself. There's other scholarships, aren't there? Besides, didn't you get an acceptance to Hearst or something?"
I look away as she slips her hand out of mine.
Sure, we had all heard the morning news announcement in which it'd been announced that Madison Sinclair had indeed just gotten richer by having the highest senior GPA. God knows how she actually achieved that; but, yeah, Veronica hadn't won. It was one of those rare moments in which the tables turned around and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.
There were the brief fluttering rumors that Duncan had been the cause of the reason why she didn't get it (though there would have been equal rumors had she gotten it anyway) - and who really put a lot of money where Carrie Bishop's mouth was?
I knew it had to be bothering Veronica anyway. Especially when I pass by her lockers and see the Out of Order sign up on the bathroom, conveniently her bat-signal. It wasn't as if she wasn't ever the talk of everyone. That's all any of us were. They just continued to find bigger and better rumors.
And I couldn't claim to not be a participant in doing some leg work in spreading as much as I could about Veronica's reputation in the past. Hell, half of a stuff had been made up by me.
I exhaled, shoving some of my books in my locker before retreating towards Veronica's girls'-bathroom-practically-office. Checking the door, she'd forgotten to lock it, I slipped inside. Veronica was sitting at one of the sinks, on a counter with far too many memories. If I knew what to saw I wouldn't be standing in the door just watching her think that her future is coming apart just because of a stupid scholarship in Lilly's name that should rightfully be going to her.
I shut the door behind me and move to take one of her hands.
"Hey," I say quietly. The look in her eyes as she glances up to me kills me inside. It's one of those 'there's a reason I'm cynical' look. Of course. The world is never fair, but we both know that by now.
"Don't do this okay," I start - and I know just as soon as I start I'm going to get told off by here. One of those: you have money speeches, you can't talk. "Don't do this to yourself. There's other scholarships, aren't there? Besides, didn't you get an acceptance to Hearst or something?"
I look away as she slips her hand out of mine.