“Write,” she commanded.

After a second of hesitation I wrote:


T~

Will you go with me to morp? It’s for real this time

Chloe

I was worried about putting the heart down. I didn’t want Taylor to get any more ideas. But we had run out of time. And since I always drew a heart instead of writing “Hart,” I figured it didn’t matter.

“I’ll make sure Taylor gets this.” Alyssa smiled. “Okay.” I watched as she sealed my fate and put the note in her pocket. The bell rang. By the time I had walked into my English class Madison, and Alyssa were gone. 

I knew Taylor had gotten the note when he hollered from across the crowded hall after school, “Thank you, Copper Top!”

I could’ve died of embarrassment when everyone turned to look at me. Since it was Friday, it was a real good thing I wouldn’t have to face anyone at school for three more days.

Later that night, Alyssa and Madison tormented me relentlessly. But all in all, they were really happy for me. By Sunday, I still hadn’t told my parents. The only one of my family members who knew was Cassidy. I had hoped to talk to Taylor on Monday to go over details before I told anyone we were going together.

If I was completely honest with myself, I was surprised at how much I looked forward to morp—more than I thought I would. I was pretty darned excited about it, which was how I found myself as I practically ran to art class Monday morning: excited. I couldn’t wait to see what Taylor thought of my ideas. But I didn’t count on one small thing. I wanted to plan for morp, but I couldn’t. Taylor wasn’t there.

After roll call, Ms. Bailey made an announcement. “Taylor Anderson will no longer be in our art class.”

What?

Maddi and Alyssa looked shocked too. By the gasps around the room, I realized we weren’t the only ones who were surprised.

“He has transferred out of this class due to a schedule change,” Ms. B. explained. “He will be attending art at another hour.”

What? Why didn’t he say anything? That’s not like Taylor at all. You would think he would’ve had us all plan a farewell party in his honor. Didn’t he know it was going to happen? Is this something last minute? And then an idea popped into my head. Did he transfer because of me?

That one sentence revolved in my head over and over again. Did he transfer because of me? Did he transfer because of me? Did he . . . I need to leave. The thought crossed my mind and furiously took hold. In moments I was up and facing Ms. B.

“Ms. Bailey? May I please go to the restroom?”

I barely heard her “sure” over the blood pounding in my ears.

Frantically, I grabbed the hall pass and fled to the privacy and sanctuary of the girl’s bathroom. It was then that I realized Taylor had never said yes when I had asked him to morp. He had only said thank you. He had never really intended to go with me at all! This whole weekend, while I had stupidly dreamed and planned in my head all of the ridiculous things Taylor and I would do, they were just that—stupid, ridiculous dreams of a girl who should have known better. One small tear escaped and trailed down my cheek. I brushed it away. But in the very next breath I felt one on my other cheek. And then another and another. No matter how much I dashed and wiped and cursed my cheeks, the irrational tears still fell.

What am I crying for? It’s not like I like Taylor anyway. He’s popular, and in my wildest dreams I have never wanted to be popular. So stop. This is nonsense. Besides, maybe I’m being overdramatic. I don’t know why Taylor left. See? I’m just jumping to conclusions. I’m sure he’ll explain everything to me once he’s given the chance. I hope.

A week later, I had lost all hope of Taylor explaining things to me, especially on Friday in art when I overheard Emma say excitedly to her friends, “Oh my gosh! You would not believe the outfits my stepdad just picked up for me! Taylor and I are going to look so amazing together at morp . . .”

He’s going with Emma? She continued to babble, but I didn’t need to hear the rest. I had heard enough. Emma? The girl he didn’t want to give false hopes to?

The reality of what a fool I had made of myself began to sink in. I was the idiot I had vowed to never be. And it wasn’t even Sydney he was going with. I maybe could’ve handled it if it was Sydney. But Emma?

I had visions of Taylor seeing my note and feeling about me just as he had felt when Sydney asked him. Did I read everything wrong? Was I just flattering myself all along that he liked me? Did he leave our class because he was too chicken to tell me he didn’t want to go with me? It was obvious Taylor had avoided me. If he really wanted to find me he could’ve, just like any other day. It had been a whole week, and he had never even tried to contact me to tell me he had planned to go with someone else. That hurt more than anything. The least he could’ve done was pay me the courtesy of a rejection. I was so humiliated that when I came home from school Friday night, I went straight to my room and dropped on my bed.

Okay, so I know I’m not totally beautiful or anything. But man, there is nothing like going out on a limb only to find the guy you’re out there for has a chainsaw and no safety net. 

Seventeen

Take That!

After the initial shock of Taylor accepting Emma’s invitation to morp, I finally snapped out of it and faced the facts. In other words, I got mad. I refused to allow Taylor Anderson to ruin my senior year—and subsequently my last morp—just because he was an idiot.

If I didn’t show up at that dance with the hottest guy I could find, who could dance better than anyone there, I was in trouble. There was no way I was going to let Taylor think I was home wishing I could go to the dance with him. Just because he didn’t accept my offer didn’t mean I had to sit back and moan about it. At least I knew who Taylor was. I mean, how many times does a girl have to be jerked around by a guy, anyway? It was my own stupid fault for falling for his plea for help. Well, one thing was for sure. Taylor Anderson was going to wish he had gone to morp with me.