Monday morning turns out to be just as crazy as I'd dreaded.

The day gets off to a bad start and goes downhill from there. I get a ride to school with Zee and Alix like usual, but Alix is quiet all the way there. Zee must have told him what happened with Fable, and if not, he would have seen the crowds mobbing my house on the news or online.

But he doesn't say a thing about it.

I expected him to at least tease me. It's not like him to miss a chance to mock Fable.

He's silent the whole way to school, while Zee chatters away nervously about the weather, soccer tryouts, the traffic – anything but Fable.

Maybe Alix is just upset that I missed our band practice. I hope that's all.

When Zee and I arrive at our lockers a few minutes before first bell, I find the words "GROUPIE SLUT" scrawled over the front of my locker in black sharpie. Jamie's scrubbing furiously at it with what looks like eye makeup remover and a Kleenex.

Her face drops when she sees me.

She sighs heavily as she spots us. "I wanted to get this cleaned up before you got here. I guess you might as well see it for yourself. You've got some haters."

"They're just jealous Ashling," Zee says.

She squeezes my hand and searches my face with wide eyes and pursed lips, brows knitted together. I know this expression so well.

Pity.

So I put on my most convincing fake smile and swing open my locker like I don't have a care in the world.

"I'm great," I lie. "Seriously, don't worry about me. I'm just glad all the craziness with Fable is over."

The message on the front of my locker makes it pretty clear though that this is far from over.

I've already filled my friends in on everything, but the rest of the school only knows what they've seen on the news, and whatever rumors are doing the rounds online. Who knows what they've heard, and what they're telling each other.

A lot of girls at my school must hate me right now.

Like whoever decided to decorate the front of my locker with sharpie.

*****

We have fourth period free, so we go to a coffee shop five minutes walk from school. Technically it's against the rules to leave Huntson High's grounds during the school day, but we've been doing this since last year and no one's ever caught us.

Even though the coffee doesn't have a thing on the Night Owl, proximity to school trumps quality.

"Four slices of Apple Cinnamon cake, and four pumpkin spice lattes," Jamie tells the waiter. She insists on paying.

"Pumpkin spice in June?" Grace says.

"If there's a rule, I'll break it," Jamie says with a wink.

To my surprise, the girls don't hassle me for details about the weekend. I told them everything over the phone – about meeting Felix, the limo ride, the angels attacking me, the panic attack in my bedroom – but it's never the same as hearing it in person. I thought they'd have a million questions, especially Jamie.

But instead of quizzing me on every detail of my weekend from hell, Jamie fills me in on how their night went, and the dramas surrounding it.

"Just count yourself lucky you didn't have to deal with Grace's mom on Friday," she tells me. "That woman is cray."

"Ugh, I can't believe you just used the word cray," Grace says. "Not that I disagree with you though."

"What happened?" I ask, already suspecting the answer.

"Oh, it was typical," Jamie replies airily. "Just before the concert she told me I was wearing too much makeup. Then she said my dress was too short and tried to make me wear one of Grace's. They all go past the knee on Grace but on me they'll be mini dresses anyway. I'm like, double Grace's height. So she threatened to phone my mom and have her bring over ‘a more suitable’ outfit."

"Did she?" I ask. "Call your mom, I mean."

Jamie snorts. "She tried. No luck."

"I wish my mom was more like your mom," Grace says, tucking a dark blonde ringlet behind her ear.

Jamie just snorts. "No, you don't. At least your mom gives a shit."

"Don't say that Jamie," Zee says softly. "Your mom does... give a shit." Her cheeks flush red at the curse word. Jamie has a mouth like a sailor, but Zee and Grace definitely don't fall into that category. It might actually be the first time I've ever heard Zee swear.

"You think so?" Jamie says, stabbing at her cake with her fork. "She has a funny way of showing it. She left for Hawaii with her latest toy boy three days ago."

This is a regular occurrence with Jamie's mom.

Since she divorced Jamie's dad six months ago, she's been on this "hook up with as many guys as possible" vibe. Basically, she's a bona fide cougar. Every few weeks Jamie gets left with the AmEx and two irritable chihuahuas for company, while her mom takes some hot twenty-something guy on an all-expenses paid holiday. Jamie made us promise not to tell our parents. Although it's bound to come out eventually, especially with Grace's mom being the way she is.

"Anyway, your mom is about to hate me a whole lot more," Jamie tells Grace as she scoops the cream off the top of her latte. "I'm going pink."

"Pink?" We all ask.

"My hair. I'm dying it pink. Electric Bubblegum Pink to be exact." Her eyes light up as she says it.

"But why?" I ask. Jamie dying her hair is nothing new, but usually there's a reason – like when she did an ombré tutorial on her YouTube channel in spring, or when she went dark red for Valentine's Day last year. Pink is a little extreme, even for her.

"I wanted to tell you all last week but I couldn't do it until all the paper work was sorted." She pauses dramatically and leans forward. "I got approached by... wait for it... NASTY GAL!" She shrieks the last bit out so loud that people at the tables around us turn their heads our way.

"They're flying me to LA next month... I'm going to be the star of a blogger fashion shoot with Gianna Wild and Wendy Song! WENDY SONG! And we're going to guest edit the new season lookbook. I want to stand out so I'm doing something cool with my hair. Amazing, right?"

It really is amazing, and we all tell her so, while she shows us the email correspondence between her and a PR lady on her phone.

"I'm going be on their site, Instagram, everything!" Her voice rises to a squeak of excitement. "This is my big break girls. My YouTube channel is going to go insane after this. I am literally hashtag SoBlessed".

"You're meant to do the hashtag sign with your fingers as you say it. Otherwise you just sound stupid." A familiar voice cuts into our conversation.

Beth is flanked by her BFFs on either side of her. I was so focused on Jamie's news that I didn't notice them sidling up to our table.

"What are you doing here?" Jamie snaps.

"I could ask you the same thing. We're only here because we saw you leaving the school grounds earlier. You girls are such rebels." Bailey and Becca giggle behind their queen bee.

"You followed us?" Grace asks.

"Don't get all excited about it," Beth says, turning to me. "We just have a few questions for Ghost."

"That's not my–"

"Fine. Ashling. Whatever. All I want to know is what Felix Lockhart was really doing at your house. Tell us what's actually going on."

"Why would she want to tell you that?" Jamie growls. "Just get lost Beth."

"We're not leaving until we know," she replies.

"It's private," I say.

"If you wanted to keep your love life private, maybe you shouldn't have hooked up with one of the most famous guys on the planet," she says. "Not that I actually think anything like that went on between you two. Looks only count for so much. You're not just a loser, Ghost. You're mental, anyone can see it five miles off. There has to be some other reason he was at your house, and I want to know what it is."

I'm too shocked to speak, but Jamie rises, and swipes her hand through the air at Beth. She's not fast enough – Beth easily dodges the slap and carries on unfazed.

"So tell me what really happened. Everyone knows that Felix doesn't really like getting up close and personal with fans. He's Mr. I'm Too Good For Everybody so Don't Even Speak to Me."

Beth speaking about something she doesn't understand makes me see red.

"He has his reasons for that," I say.

"Uh-huh. You still haven't answered my question. What was he really doing at your house?"

"That's between Felix and me."

"And his ten million other fans," she says as she slams her hand down on the table in front of me, sending my empty latte mug clattering before falling onto its side.

I've had enough.

I get up without another word.

I don't look back, but I can hear that Jamie, Zee and Grace have risen too, walking out of the coffee shop behind me.

Enough.

*****

When we get back to school I expect more of the same, but luckily not everyone is like the Three Bs.

All day, I have girls coming up to me to talk about what happened, most of them just curious after what they saw on the news.

Everyone from freshmen to seniors, and even my pretty thirty-something biology teacher, who I had no idea was into Fable.

Everyone keeps telling me I'm soooo lucky. And asking if Felix really is as stunning in real life as he is in photos (of course he is). And asking if he really is rude and abrasive in person, or if it's just an act (it isn't). And asking if anything “happened”.

No one actually says what they suspect might have “happened”, so I don't give specifics.

I just tell them I left some of my things in the VIP area, and Felix returned them in person. As he'd do for any fan. I tell them yes, it was awesome meeting him, and no, he hasn't called me, and yes, it's true I'll probably never see him again but I was grateful just to meet him and that's that. I couldn't ask for anything more. Nothing happened, and I'm moving on.

The more I say it, the more I believe it.

I'm moving on.