Pieces of You

Chapter Eleven

Blaire | Before

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'What the hell happened to you last night?'

Anna's nose crinkles in the perfect display of disgust.

Her eyes narrow on the bruise spilling across my forehead as she flicks blonde hair over her shoulder, pink lips tightening into a straight line as she clearly tries to avoid staring at it. Her eyes watch me closely, but when our gazes meet, the corners of her lips rise into a hesitant smile, like she wasn't just judging the hell out of me.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her pathetic attempt of sympathy, disguised really as morbid curiosity to see if this is something she could use against me. If it were anybody else sitting with me, they wouldn't have even noticed. Not with all the concealer I used to cover it.

Even if every dab of the sponge hurt like a bitch, I was determined to come in today with nobody asking questions – mostly because I know I can never answer those questions, but also because a small part of me doesn't want whoever did this to see how much they really hurt me, how close they got to cutting me off for good.

Most of the bruise is covered by my hairline and, sure, I still feel a little dizzy when I move too quick and I can't shower because the cut stings, but nobody has actually noticed a difference in me until now – not even Nate, who's been following me around the halls today like a lost puppy. But Anna – she's one of those girls who notices everything, even if it is something as small as her best friend coming in with a little more make-up than usual.

'I slipped,' I say between bites of my salad, eyes focused on the cafeteria and every student inside it. I slide my gaze back to Anna, raising a brow as I study her poised shoulders and bruised forearms. 'What's your excuse?'

Her lips part, forming the shape of a perfect O.

Of course, we both know that not even one of her hairs are out of place, but she rubs at her bruises nonetheless, covering the green marks she got yesterday from pyramid, when Liv's grip turned into claw-like pincers.

Her expression only lasts a second before she catches herself, mirroring my smile and releasing a breathy laugh. Her eyes say what she would never voice aloud – she's impressed.

'You're in a surprisingly good mood for someone with a concussion,' she states bluntly.

'I don't have —'

'Anyone with a bruise that big has a concussion. Don't you remember when Gabby fell over in cheer? Sure, her bruise passed in a week, but her concussion lasted weeks.' She pauses, studying my face as something flashes in her eyes. 'Are you okay?'

'What do you care?' I take a sip from my water bottle. 'This is karma, right? For being such a bitch to you yesterday. I bet you're secretly loving it.'

Anna shrugs, but she doesn't look happy. 'Funnily, I care because you're my friend – even if I do hate your guts sometimes.'

'Aw. You care about me?' My voice is playful.

'My love for you eternally hangs by a thread, Blaire Olsen.' She plops a strawberry into her mouth. 'But it's a pretty strong thread, so I wouldn't worry.'

I release a short laugh. 'I'm glad to hear you wouldn't stab me in the back then. One less person I have to worry about killing me while I sleep.'

'I didn't say that.' A silver glaze appears in her eyes – a look that suddenly makes her very capable of murder. 'If you asked me yesterday, I would've laid out my entire plan. I'd get away with it too, what with how much you pissed me off.' She raises a brow. 'Had all day to plan it.'