SLOANE’S POINT OF VIEW.

I clenched my fist against the steering wheel of my car and tried to focus on my deep breaths instead of the taste of bile in my mouth. I was parked in a spot a bit far from the school’s parking lot, my car hidden by the trees with wide-spread branches.

I didn’t want to go in there, to face them all and act like their comments wouldn’t get to me. Before I’d drifted to a dreamless sleep, I’d surfed the internet, and as I suspected, it was much ...