Secret Diaries (Heartlake Cliche #1)

Chapter Fifteen

March 26, 2010

A best friend is forever.

     The first picture was taken a bit more than four years ago during the summer break. Rachelle was going to attend St. James Academy for high school and she was slowly being discovered as a teen model. As people started to recognize her face, her fame began to enter her head. She went to house parties and got drunk even though she was merely a thirteen-year-old pretending to be eighteen. Her parents were both still struggling with their careers that they left their daughter in the care of her agency. Matt had been a naïve teenager himself that he enjoyed the unique experiences instead of taking Rachelle out of there. The photo was of Rachelle holding a bottle of Budweiser and partying.

     One would think the first photo was scandalous enough. The second one, however, could top that off in all possible levels. It was in another house party showing Rachelle and one of her flings sharing a drunken kiss. A drunken, torrid kiss. It was three years ago.

     When the photo was published in a tabloid, Rachelle lost a good deal of modeling projects. Worse, she almost lost the trust of her own parents. They blamed themselves for what happened, thinking that it was their neglect that led their daughter to such a disgrace. Rachelle had heard them talking many times; she heard her mother sobbing and her father being angry at himself. Not even Matt was aware of that incident and she would never forget how disgusted he looked when he saw the tabloid’s front page.

     Those two years were the lowest points in Rachelle’s life and career. She had stopped modeling for about eight months, trying to establish a different Rachelle in the minds of everyone. She studied hard and excelled in both academics and extra-curricular activities. She avoided parties and promised to be there only when she turned eighteen and legal. Since her agency had dropped her the moment the scandals erupted, she did what she thought was the best course of action. She went to auditions and accepted even the most unglamorous modeling jobs. The first one was a TV commercial for a shoe brand and she was to be an extra. She was one of the mere passers-by whose shoes were not as fashionable as that of the main character. She wasn’t even seen in the posters. From there, she worked to gradually achieve what she had right now—popularity and a bit of wisdom.

     Eighteen years old and she still loved to party. Only this time, she knew what it was like to lose herself in it. One may see her dancing under the spotlights or drinking a glass of tequila but everyone knew that she was always aware of what she was doing. She no longer got drunk that she forgot where she was or who she was with. She still got into trouble—especially with her mood swings—but nothing as outrageous as a front page story. Her constant change of boyfriends were always attributed to her party girl image but an interview statement from Rachelle told everyone that she had not forgotten what happened but she had learned how to be responsible with her relationships.

     All these made everyone forget that she was once a wild, irresponsible and reckless teenager.

     Until now.

     Rachelle unconsciously clenched her hands as she stared at the two photos posted at the student section of St. James’ Bulletin Board. She experienced a sense of déjà vu when she walked into the lobby this morning—and her instincts were right. It was just like three weeks ago. Monday. Another reason to hate Mondays.

     She was about to punch the board when a warm hand clasped her right. She turned, expecting to see her best friend but was surprised when she heard the voice behind the person who owned the hand.

     “Don’t even think about it,” Liam said with a bit of amusement.

     “Liam!” she exclaimed with a belated smile. “It’s you.”