infatuated.

Chapter Nine

For the next week, it consisted of Jessica being picked up by Brandon. But today, Brandon arrives at my door, and I smile to see Jessica isn't present.

"Where's Jessica?" Her name like poison on my tongue as I slide into the passenger seat.

"Oh, she had to take care of something at the modeling company." Brandon replies, eyes ahead. "Rest well?"

"Yeah," I tell him happily. Finally, just me and him.

"Thanks for coming out yesterday, it meant a lot that you supported me."

"Of course, what are girlfriends for?" That word, girlfriend, coming out of my mouth makes my heart bloom, reassuring me.

"Yeah, what are girlfriends for..." Brandon mumbles, which makes my happy feeling dim. Then when we arrive and he opens the door for me, I feel better. We sit down at a table outside near the doors so that if the bell rings, it'll at least be audible.

"Jake is going to celebrate our win tonight at the pizza parlor, so maybe you could come?" Brandon asks.

"Yeah, I would love to--"

And then I hear it.

She's here.

Her laughter echoes through the room, an incessant laugh, ringing through my ears. It's a sound I can't get out of my head, it's taunting me.

You're a fool. You'll never win him.

I can hear her voice. It's surrounding me as my fist tightens, my nails piercing my palm—

"Hey, Brandon!" Jessica smiles with her bright teeth, flirting with my boyfriend when she turns her head to me, keeping the same smile as she cheerily greets me. "Hey Alyssa!" You fake witch, you conniving—

"Hey, Jessica!" I kept the edge out of my voice. I don't want Brandon to think I want to snap her neck, to watch her bleed out on the floor, to hear her scream instead of her little laugh.

Luckily, she isn't wearing blue today, opting for a white button up shirt and pleated skirt. She's also wearing a light grey sweater with a bear symbol.

Brandon chuckles. "No way. I knew you had it!"

"What? Is it my fault it's comfortable?" Jessica giggles.

Like nails on a chalkboard. I think to myself. Then confusion spreads across my face. "Wait, what are you guys talking about?"

"I gave her a sweater one time and she never gave it back." Brandon sighed. "Back in our old school, I went over to her house for a project, and it was freezing..."

His voice fades out as I stare at the sweater..

She's wearing.... Brandon's... clothes?

My finger taps against my knee and it takes all my willpower not to let my thoughts overpower me.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve it.

I DESERVE THAT.

My fist slams against the table and they jump.

"Are you alright, Alyssa?" Jessica asks, concerned.

"I'm fine." I smile.

I'm perfectly fine.

---

Throughout the day, I keep thinking about Jessica.

Jessica and the sweater.

Jessica and her blue outfits.

Jessica and her incessant rides.

Jessica and her stupid school.

Jessica and her and Brandon's past together.

Jessica and Brandon.

Jessica and Brandon.

Jessica and Brandon.

Jessica and Brandon.

Jessica and Brandon.

"Ms. Wood?"

My head snaps up to see an irritated Mr. Bartnum staring down at me.

"Yes, Mr Bartnum?"

"Pay attention." He scowls, returning to his desk.

"Sorry, Mr. Bartnum." I lower my head. Get a grip, Alyssa.

In PE, my next class, I sit on the bench, staring at the gym floor.

"Okay, guys, it's time to run the mile!" Our gym teacher announces, her voice almost inaudible due to the blaring fan. Make sure to put your things in the locker room and meet me outside."

Everyone gets up to go to the locker room and put their stuff away, and I follow everyone inside.

The sounds of jingling locks and clanging doors fills the room, and I open my locker door. Out of the corner of my eye, Jessica puts the sweater into her locker. I turn my back as she changes and wait until everyone leaves. Then I wait a few more minutes before proceeding.

After I know everyone is out, I dig through my backpack for a bobby pin. Once I find it, I pull it out and zip my backpack closed, stuffing it into my locker.

I turn to Jessica's locker and pick at it, the bobby pin finding its way to center and clicking. I creak it open gently and spot the sweatshirt. I lay it in front of me on the wooden bench.

I stare at it.

That should be mine.

But if it's not mine, it darn sure isn't going to be hers.

I pull out my emergency switchblade. "My mother was always the odd gifter, wasn't she?" I mutter, flicking it open. The gleam of the stainless steel excites me, and I drag it across the sweater, the fabric splitting open.

I place the blade down and work with my hands, ripping it in different directions so it can't be sewn back up easily. I rush to the sink and run the faucet over it, soaking it with water.

I switched the faucet off once the sweater was dripping enough and shoved it back into her locker. I closed the door, locked it once again and threw my bobby pin down the drain.

There's still a while before they return to the building, so I rush to the nurse's office. I knock on the door and an old woman greets me.

"Hello, what can I help you with?" She smiles.

"I was throwing up in the bathroom, can I have some medicine?"

"Well, I'm sure it will go away with some rest, why don't you sit on the cot, dear?"

I nod and lay down on the uncomfortable cot, smiling to myself knowing my plan had gone smoothly.

Later on at home, I get a text from Brandon.

B: You wouldn't believe it, my sweater got ruined in the locker room. Jessica has no idea how it happened, but it doesn't make me any less irritated.

I can hardly contain my joy.

I'm so sorry! Tell Jessica I hope she can fix it.

B: You don't have her number? Here:

Forwarded #: 555-3812

"This could be useful." I say aloud, and I add the number to my contacts.