Page 98 of Swallow Your Sorries

I shrug casually. “Only if you want to.”

“I had surgery,” she blurts, but she isn’t looking at me when she says it. She’s staring directly into her own eyes as if finally confessing the truth to herself. Once she does, her shoulders relax as if she’s just lifted a massive weight. “A mini vertical sleeve.”

I try to not look alarmed. She’s so young. “That sounds invasive.”

“And permanent.” Stassi nods before adding quickly, “I don’t regret it either. But I can’t share it because people wouldn’t understand. I’m only seventeen. Just eat less! Just exercise more! I dance for four fucking hours every day already.”

I nod sympathetically as she pauses, taking her time to continue.

“I had an addiction. One I didn’t feel I could break on my own. Eating is essential. I couldn’t avoid it. I couldn’t stop… Anyway, I knew neither my brother nor my friends would understand such a drastic decision, so I didn’t tell them.”

“But you’re telling me?” I ask curiously.

She shrugs. “You have no friends to blab to and even if you did, no one would believe you simply because they hate you. Simply because Gant told them to hate you.”

Damn. But she‘s right.

Not even fellow scholarship slut Enaj could be bothered with me.

“And it’s only a matter of time before Beaussip suggests it, right after her Ozempic theory, which I’m sure will come out in a few weeks. The terminated pregnancy one already has.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “I thought you were an Untouchable. Beaussip still talks trash about you too?”

“Beaussip’s the one exception who can do so openly, but everyone still whispers,” Stassi says bitterly. “I swear, I’m finding out who writes this filth before we graduate. No one’s been able to figure it out since her debut in ninety-six, but there’s a first time for everything. And obviously, she keeps passing on her wicked sceptre whenever she graduates. There must be some sort of underground secret society that runs it and keeps it going.”

I think back to Rin’s laughter when I said she was Beaussip. It may have been a deflection. It may have been the truth, but one thing’s certain. She has some sort of affiliation with Beaussip, so maybe Stassi’s right about some secret society.

Whatever the truth is, I’m going to work it out because while Rin may be the queen bee on campus, I’m the queen bee when it comes to leaking emails. First Gant and now Rin. Before Rin had soaked the screen, I’d forwarded her message trail right into my inbox, Barbieoo7.

“I think we have a common interest,” I say, closing Beaussip’s website and handing Stassi her phone before I can find my name and punish myself even more by reading what Beaussip has to say about me now. “But if you can tell me about your surgery, why can’t you tell Aria? From what I gather, you guys used to be close?” Or so some past articles on Beaussip had shown. I hate myself for it, but I’d scoured the pages for info on Gant and went down a rabbit hole about everyone else.

I told myself it was just to get a leg up, to have more knowledge about Gant and his friend group, but really, I’d sunk into Beaussip’s smear and praise pieces like it was one of my beloved dramas.

My favourite storyline? Aria and Éti’s taboo saga.

“Aria’s won the freaking genetic lottery when it comes to proportions and metabolism. She’s got an itty bitty waist whilst still maintaining an ass and tits. She just doesn’t get it.”

“And you think I do?” Given my body issues with ballet, I do, but why is Stassi trusting me at all regardless of my friendless status? Does she actually trust me, or is she just ready to vent to the first person who walks by before she combusts?

She shrugs again. “I think you understand the rumours. You only get about ten new stories a day.”

I nod. “Unfortunately. But if you don’t regret the surgery, then why not screw the haters? Why is it giving you so much anxiety?”

“Because I feel like I failed despite all of my wins. My cholesterol is finally back to a normal range and my blood pressure too. I don’t have to worry about a sleep apnea machine anymore either. I can dance for longer without getting winded, and I’m faster on my feet now.”

“But that’s great,” I say encouragingly.

“But I keep having these nagging thoughts in the back of my mind, like why was I so mentally weak that I couldn’t do it naturally? Why did I have to permanently alter my body to get healthy? I just don’t know how to feel. I feel good and I feel like shit at the same time, you know?”

I nod. I did know. Like how I’m at the school of my dreams—yay—but everything is going to hell in a handbasket.

“Stassi, I don’t know much about the surgery,” I confess. “But if you felt compelled to get it, I don’t think it’s a decision you took lightly, and I doubt it was easy.”

“It wasn’t. We’re talking weeks of a liquid diet. Even now it’s rough. At mealtimes, I can’t eat more than a few bites without getting full. Now, with Beaussip’s story, it’s like I’m under a microscope.” She shakes her head, her curls tumbling over her shoulders. “Lunch today was unbearable. Everyone’s watching me eat and I even caught a few people recording. That aside, the eye rolls, glares, and sympathetic looks have been driving me up the wall.”

“Why eye rolls?” I can’t help but ask.

“Because despite the weight loss, people are thinking, look at that fat pick-me eating all dainty and cute. She’s just doing it to get her brother’s friend’s attention. She probably scarfs down way more later.”

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