Robin Wasserman - Pride

So what was she supposed to do now? Go home and cry? Gorge herself on ice cream and whine about how the world was ever so unfair? Blunder through life finding someone else to trust, only to be crushed and stomped on once again?

She didn’t think so.

The old Beth might have cried her way home. And, like a nice girl, a good girl, she would have wept, and waited, and wept, until finally, she’d moved on. She’d get past it.

But not this time-not this Beth.

She walked home dry-eyed, her fists clenched, her mind racing.

Because this time, she wasn’t going to get past it.

She wasn’t going to get over it.

She was going to get even.

Robin Wasserman enjoys writing about high school-but wakes up every day grateful that she doesn’t have to relive it. She recently abandoned the beaches and boulevards of Los Angeles for the chilly embrace of the east coast, as all that sun and fun gave her too little to complain about. She now lives and writes in New York City, which she claims to love for its vibrant culture and intellectual life. In reality, she doesn’t make it to museums nearly enough, and actually just loves the city for its pizza, its shopping, and the fact that at three a.m. you can always get anything you need-and you can get it delivered.