Pieces of You

Chapter Five

Blaire | Before

At lunch, more lies spill.

A part of me feels bad for leaving Megan alone to deal with Anna, who's still yet to speak a single word to me since this morning and currently sits on our table with a look that could kill. But the truth of what I'm doing will only scare her. Megan can handle Anna – God knows she has for years – neither of them, however, can handle this.

I grit my teeth as I walk through the hall, eyeing the end of the passage where my locker is. The message will be inside, waiting for me.

As always, the crowd parts for me as I walk through the hall. Eyes linger. I feel them all over my skin like the tips of a thousand fingers, claiming some part of me, but something in my expression drives them all away. If you'd ask me, I'd say this control came naturally – that I enjoy the power it gives me. I learned a long time ago that, in this world, some people have power and others do not. Those who do have it end up becoming important people, like politicians or lawyers, and those who don't end up being squashed by the people who do.

But the truth is, I don't know where it came from.

All I know is that one day I woke up and the whole school suddenly cared about what I had to say, who I liked and what I wore. And I rolled with it, because who the hell wouldn't?

But sometimes it's lonely.

In Berewood, you show one hint of weakness and people will pounce. So, when I realised that people actually cared about me, that they were watching my every move, I decided to become untouchable. And, to put it simply, it worked. I like the person this school has moulded me into. I don't have to worry about what everyone thinks because I already know they all want what I have. And it's worked like that for years.

Until the end of last school year, when the messages started.

My heels click against the floor – click, click, click. It feels like the journey lasts for years, that every step I take forward drives me another two back. The closer I get, the more I feel my stomach rolling, but I can't turn away now.

No, I need to find out who's following me.

In the corner of my eyes, I see Jamie by her locker, next to Addy and Archie. Addy's dark hair pirouettes down her chest and a small blush creeps its way from her ears to the tips of her cheeks. She's pretty, I'll admit. Prettier than Jamie. Hell, I might not even blame Archie for playing the field – we all have our weaknesses, right?

The three of them are laughing at something on Jamie's phone, but Addison is standing too close to Archie and the tips of her fingers rests on his arm. I grit my teeth. Are they even trying to hide it? How hasn't Jamie noticed?

I've always kind of liked the girl – her sister has helped me out more occasions than I'd like to admit, so a small piece of me is tempted to pull her aside and tell her the truth of the company she keeps.

But then I remind myself I've got my own issues to face.

Biting my tongue, I hold my head high as I reach my locker. I enter the passcode, 1989, eyes darting from one corner of the hall to another, searching for anyone who could be watching, waiting to see the effect their games have on me.

The metal lock opens with a click and the paper is in there as expected, lying innocently on my algebra books. Anyone who sees it behind me might think that it's simply a piece of scrap paper. Nothing about it makes it seem important, except for the fact of the words I know it'll hold.

I try to hold onto my resolve – it's good that you're doing this on your own, I tell myself. I don't have to rely on anyone, and they always say that if you want the job done right you do it yourself. Telling Anna and Megan will only scare them, but something tugs at my gut nonetheless.