Monday I Love You Read Online Free

weak, so terrified, I knew it wouldn’t stop them. Nothing was going to stop them. They held both my arms tightly as Ashley fumbled at the neck of my blouse. In one deft movement, she ripped it straight down to my waist. A long, hissing sigh, like escaping steam, drowned out the sound of dripping water.
    I had on two bras. The one on the bottom was too small, and pale gray from long use. I thought two would make me look smaller. The one on top was my best one. It was black. Lace.
    â€œWell, for God’s sake, she’s all dressed up,” I heard someone, maybe Chloe, say.
    â€œYeah, and no place to go.”
    â€œDon’t that beat all.”
    I felt fingers at my back, trying to undo my bra. Bras.
    â€œNo,” I said. “You’re not. I won’t get you.”
    â€œCheese it.” Nicole tore herself away to peer out the door. “The cops.” They dropped me and left. Afterward, I remembered how Ashley sauntered, taking her time. Cool. Oh, so cool.
    â€œHo, Ms. Govoni,” I heard her say.
    Nothing to be done about the blouse. I was crying so hard I couldn’t see. I had my sweater almost on when Ms. Govoni, the gym teacher, came in.
    â€œOh, you startled me,” she said. “Just checking. Thought I smelled smoke.” Arms flailing, panic-stricken, I mumbled something.
    â€œHere, let me help.” I felt Ms. Govoni touch me and I screamed, unable to control myself.
    â€œLet me alone!” I shouted.
    â€œGrace. I’m terribly sorry.” She sounded a long way off. “I was only trying to help.”
    I fled into one of the stalls, locked myself in and began flushing the toilet, trying to drown out the awful sounds I couldn’t stop making. A piece of my blouse hung down outside my sweater. In a rage, I tore it off and scuffed it into a corner.
    I couldn’t stop crying. The sobs came from my feet. They shook me, preparing the way for more. All of my life I would remember their faces, the feel of their hands. All of my life, I knew they would go on destroying me with their indecency. If I could have killed them at that instant, I would have, gladly.
    â€œPlease, Grace.” Between seizures, I heard Ms. Govoni tapping on the stall door. “Let me help. Please.”
    I didn’t answer. When you’re not used to kindness, it’s tough to handle. Eventually, I stopped. I don’t know how long I stayed in there. At last, when I unlocked the door and came out, Ms. Govoni was waiting.
    She handed me a fistful of tissues. I took them and blew. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror. I knew that crying, even a small fit of crying, made me look like a piece of Spam—mottled, red, meaty looking. I turned on the cold water and stuck my head under.
    â€œI’m not asking what happened,” Ms. Govoni said after a while. “I know you won’t tell me anyway. Not now.” She checked her watch. “I’m through for the morning. Would you like to come out with me and have some coffee?”
    I didn’t want coffee, but I didn’t want to be alone. I couldn’t go back to class, looking the way I looked. There was no point in going home. So I said, “Yes, I’d like some coffee.”
    â€œI’ll notify your homeroom teacher,” Ms. Govoni said. Her whistle hung outside her sweatshirt. Kids made fun of Ms. Govoni. Her hair was messy, bunched over her ears. They said she looked like a spaniel and liked girls better than boys.
    â€œMine’s the red Subaru wagon, license plate GYM–3,” she said. “Vanity plates.” She smiled at me, and without knowing if I still knew how, I smiled back. “Here are the keys. Wait for me. I won’t be a minute.”
    I ran through the halls and out into the parking lot, unlocked the car and got in. I stared hard at my lap, thinking it had got a lot fatter since the last time I’d looked at it, wondering how and if I’d be able to