Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Clarissa stared at her own reflection in the oval mirror above the sink she was gripping so hard her fingers hurt.

It’s probably all nothing. You’re being paranoid again.

But it wasn’t nothing, and she knew it. James and Nicolas meeting up in his bedroom. The looks everyone had been giving each other. The t-shirt she should never have borrowed. There was something nobody was telling her, and it was driving Clarissa nuts.

As if coming here wasn’t hard enough on its own.

In just the past hour, she had bitten all her nails down to stubs and picked off all her scabs, old habits she hadn’t indulged in in months. She had initially come back here, to the bathroom off the back hallway, to grab bandaids to cover up her (now bleeding) cuts, but once she had separated herself from the party, she had found that she didn’t want to go back. So for the last ten minutes, she’d just been standing in the bathroom staring at herself in the mirror and feeling the anxiety that had been burning in her stomach since that morning turn to anger.

Why didn’t Nicolas warn me? Doesn’t he care?

The bathroom door swung open. Clarissa spun around half expecting it to be Nicolas coming to find her and reassure her it had all been a misunderstanding and half hoping it would be.

Instead, it was Caitlyn standing in the doorway, eyes wide frozen. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize there was anybody in here.”

Clarissa felt her anger swell.

Caitlyn started to back away, but then stopped and squinted at the bandages on Clarissa’s arms. “Are you okay?”

Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Like you care.”

You’re being a bitch, the voice in the back of her head warned her. I don’t care, she thought.

Caitlyn sighed. “Yeah, I probably deserved that.”

Clarissa started. She squinted at Cailin, trying to judge her sincerity.

“I realize I was kinda rude to you earlier,” Cailin said. “But seriously, are you okay?”

Clarissa snorted. “‘Kinda rude’? I showed up from the other side of the country, not knowing anybody, and you were downright nasty to me at somebody else’s birthday party, just because you… what? Have a crush on my boyfriend or something!”

For a second Cailin just stood there frozen in the doorway, eyes wide. But then she cracked a smile, and even let out a laugh.

What the fuck?

“Oh my god!” she gasped. “You think I have a crush on Nico?” Cait threw back her head and howled.

Clarissa felt her face grow hot. “Well if that’s not the case, then why do you hate me?” She winced at how whiny she sounded. How much like a teenager.

Caitlyn held up a finger as she finished her fit of giggles. She finally finished, wheezing and whipping the water from her eyes, smearing her thick black mascara in the process.

“I do NOT have a crush on Nico,” she said. “Never have. In fact, I’m a lesbian.”

Clarissa frowned. That’s not usually something people lie about, but then why…

Caitlyn must have seen the look on Clarissa’s face because she quickly explained. “I was just taking James’ side because he’s my best friend. Not that he really hates you either,” she added.

“And what’s James’ problem with me?” Clarissa asked, not actually feeling any better.

Caitlyn’s eyebrows settled back down and the mirth slid off her face. “You really don’t know, huh?” she said quietly, almost under her voice.

“Know what?” Clarissa practically shouted, frustrated to the point of a building headache.

Caitlyn startled as though she had not actually expected Clarissa to have heard what she had just said, and her eyes snuck sideways toward the end of the hallway.

“Please just tell me,” Clarissa begged.

Caitlyn looked back at her, eyebrows knotting, and took a step back. “Look, Nico should be the one to tell you,” she said taking another step away. “It’s his business really.”

“No, please don’t go,” Clarissa begged again, taking a step forwards. She hated how desperate she sounded, but well…. she was in fact desperate. “Nicolas didn’t tell me anything. Nobody will tell me anything. Please!”

Caitlin’s face softened, and for a second Clarissa thought she was making progress, but then she said, “why don’t you ask Donna.” and disappeared.

As the door closed behind Caitlyn, Clarissa gave up on holding in her tears, and let all her frustration flow out of her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.