Page 33 of Swallow Your Sorries

“I’m Elle,” I smile weakly, struggling to hold back the vomit that wants to climb my throat.

Beaussip!??

Aria arches a brow. “Elles are always blonde,” she mutters and I pretend like I don’t hear her because how am I supposed to answer that?

“It’s my first year at Beaulieu.”

“We’ve never had a third roomie,” Stassi says, folding her arms. “That bed’s been empty since tenth grade.”

Again, I don’t know how to answer that.

Aria doesn’t seem to care for an answer either way. “Where.have.you.been?” she hisses at Stassi, enunciating each word.

“I already told you,” Stassi says. “In Yves.AfterSt. Barts.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t video chat me for damn near a week?”

“I was going through a lot, okay? I’m sorry,” Stassi whispers and it seems sincere as she grasps Aria’s hand, but the girl pulls her arm back indignantly.

“That’s it?” An angry maroon blooms across her nose bridge. “You ghost me all summer and all you have to say is, ‘I’m sorry’?”

“I was a shitty friend,” she says, seemingly struggling to keep her voice even. “A human trash box.”

Aria looks unfazed. “I didn’t need a play-by-play, Stas. A simple ‘I’m leaving the country for a bit’ would have sufficed. So I didn’t stress about you for weeks on end until Beaussip released an article saying you and Lilibet had gone abroad.”

“Who’s Beaussip?” I strike up the courage to ask, but context clues lead me to believe it’s associated with Beaulieu. How hadn’t I connected the dots before?

Both girls look at me and then back at each other.

Yeah,I should stay out of it.

“I’m surprised they got it right. You know half that stuff isn’t true.”

Aria’s watching Stassi as if she can see straight through her skull and into her brain where the truth’s floating.

It’s none of my business, but yet even I’m weirdly invested in the answer. Or rather, the distraction from Beaussip. Where was Stassi all summer?

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“It’s personal, ok? I was going through some real problems.”

“Who wasn’t?”

Stassi’s brows knit, seemingly offended. “Real shit Ari. Something more than fashion crises and bitchy mums,” she blurts.

“You think I’m that vapid?” Aria lifts a brow and steps back, affronted. “You think I wanted to bother you with petty drama?”

“That came out wrong,” Stassi begins, but Aria cuts her off.

“I think it came out perfectly.”

“Ari–”

But Aria turns her back and begins rummaging through her trunks. With a sigh and a pained look, Stassi does the same.

The silence that ensues is only broken up by sounds of clinking perfume bottles, zips and snaps of luggage, and the pinging from each girl’s cellphone, every other minute. Neither ever check their notifications. They must be super popular and immune to the distraction. I never got pings, except from Mum and my cell provider.

I gaze at the schedule and see that orientation starts soon. It’s for all seniors, not just new students, so I suppose I could just follow the girls to wherever the auditorium is, right? It isn’t on the little map of the dorms I’d gotten. Maybe it’s a new addition to the campus.

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