53. the popstar and the loser

                                    

                                              
I yanked a couple squares of toilet paper from the dispenser beside me, the roll tumbling loudly against the plastic inside and I had already decided that the aggressive tearing of the tissue was as confrontational as I was going to be, since defending Thea Foster's honor was definitely worth an altercation with someone as manic as I suspected Jenna Brookes to be, but I could let her wonder if the white sneakers in the second stall was already erasing her defacement, albeit somewhat ineffectively with dry toilet paper but I definitely couldn't walk out until she left. 
I was hoping it would be soon, stifling a sigh at how unforgiving ink could be when the bathroom door creaked open and I thought she was finally leaving until I heard her voice, dripping with thinly veiled contempt as she remarked, "Oh, hey, Thea. How has your day been going?" There was a slight pause, then, when Jenna realized that Thea wasn't going to respond, she added, "I heard that someone keyed your car. That is such a shame. What did they write, by the way? I never did hear that part." 
I stared up at the ceiling, recalling a joke on the internet about nickels and the number of times I inadvertently eavesdropped on an argument that Thea Foster had, which had only happened twice but still, it was kind of weird how it kept happening. I considered lifting up my legs so neither one of them could see my shoes, but then realized that might look kind of suspicious since at the very least Jenna knew that I was in here—well, hopefully not that it was me, but she definitely knew there was someone still in this stall. 
Stifling a sigh with my lips in between my teeth, I tossed the tissue I had torn rubbing it against the stall door into the toilet bowl and cautiously snuck a glance through the crack at Thea Foster, nervous as irrational as it sounded that she might somehow be able to sense my gaze on her from inside the stall and divert her attention from Jenna Brookes to me. 
I watched as she seemed to ignore the spiteful remark and washed her hands in the sink without rolling up the sleeves of her blazer—which probably shouldn't have horrified me as much as it did, but now I was beginning to wonder if Thea might actually be a psychopath—blond hair falling over her reflection in the mirror while Jenna leaned her hip against one of the other sinks, her profile adorned with a soft sardonic smile and daggers in her eyes. 
"I hope you're not reading all those comments on your Instagram," Jenna continued. "Some of them are pretty harsh, and its thousands of people commenting these things, like how you're a traitorous snake or an ugly homewrecking whore. I don't know about you, but if people were saying those kinds of things about me, I would feel like killing myself." 
My eyes widened in disbelief, staring incredulously at Jenna through the crack in the stall door with the words she had inscribed in black indelible ink a few inches to the left still taunting me out of the corner of my eye, as she took a menacing step toward Thea and carefully twisted the faucet tap until the sound of running water became nothing more than a drip against porcelain. 
Soap suds were still clinging to Thea's hands as she finally lifted her chin up to meet Jenna's gaze, her outstretched arm in front of her chest and fingers still gripped around the knob for the hot water. "You know what else people were saying? That you killed Bridgette just so you could have her boyfriend all to yourself." 
"I didn't kill Bridgette," Thea muttered, retreating from Jenna's form looming a good few inches over her as she took a step backward, reaching her lathered hand into the paper towel dispenser and forcefully pulling out a couple of brown sheets. "I left before the party ended. You can ask around." She was quiet for a moment as she dried the soap from in between her fingers with the paper towels then added, "You know who didn't? You know who everyone else saw arguing with Bridgette right before she disappeared? Ivy Annesley. The same girl who took that picture."