Chapter 22

Rickard is a dich was still scratched on the door as I walked into school. You don't know the half of it. Students were looking at me strangely, but Anita had warned me that I would imagine that others were consumed by what happened. She said that most people didn't have the energy to care that much.

We had talked a few times over the Christmas break. After the thing with the razor blade, I decided that I could use someone to talk to. Anita was amazing. She listened when she needed to listen and zinged me when I needed to be moved out of the pit of self-pity that I kept falling into. I had her on speed dial on the new iPhone that Dad bought me for Christmas. It was so much better than that clunky tablet. All my email was on the phone and then some.