Followers by Anna Davies

Author:Anna Davies
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2014-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

Leah Banks

@alleyesonaree OMG, Are U OK? LMK if U Want to talk!!

Briana Beland @alleyesonbree

Thanks, but it’s all good! Seriously, I’m pretty psyched to have some space in my schedule

Skye Henderson

Can’t wait to get my matinee on with Eric. Want to rehearse later tonight?

Skye Henderson

Eric, are you not checking your Twitter feed again? Do I have to call you?

Skye Henderson

Eric?!

I refreshed Skye’s Twitter feed, inwardly pleased that Eric seemed to be ignoring her.

Of course, he hadn’t exactly been Tweeting a million times per hour at me, but it wasn’t like I was reaching out to him. At least I didn’t look desperate. But I was desperate. I was desperately bored and sadder than I’d ever been first semester. For two glorious days, I’d had a taste of what my MacHale life could have been like. And now, it had been yanked away.

I glanced out the window at the empty campus. While cast members of Hamlet were rushing to rehearsal, I had a whole day of nothing yawning in front of me. I just wished the next two weeks would fly by, so second semester would hurry up and start. Once the campus was full of students, I’d be able to slip back into anonymity. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d already had one semester of empty afternoons and overhearing inside jokes I didn’t get. I’d survived. And I’d be able to survive it again.

I picked up the book on my desk. It was The Magic Mountain, our required break reading for English. I’d just gotten a few pages in, but I couldn’t concentrate. The book was all about a guy who goes to visit his cousin at a sanatorium for tuberculosis patients and ends up getting stuck there for seven years, surrounded by the same people and living the same routine, day in and day out. It was supposed to be an allegory about modern life, or something, and it hit way too close to home right now. I already knew what it was like to feel surrounded and watched, with nowhere to escape. I didn’t need to read about it.

Not knowing what else to do, but needing to do something, I spotted a box of hair dye in Willow’s dresser. It was a coppery red that I remembered from the beginning of the fall. I grabbed the box and headed into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, my hair was orange.

I looked at my reflection with a sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t pretty. It was the type of color any disaffected teenager would use, a sign they were done trying to fit in. Because what was the point? Whatever I’d done hadn’t been good enough. I couldn’t stand out on my talent, and I was sick of trying to blend in.

I left the bathroom and went back to my room. A new Tweet had popped up on my feed.

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