Best Served Fake

fifteen // disparage away

"So, what, you and Kai are friends now?" Cora asked, with a healthy dose of scepticism. Her hands had dropped from her hips, but her lips were still pursed.

"Sure."

"This isn't some revenge stunt?"

I tucked my hair behind my ear. "No, Cora. I'm just making friends with someone who was nice to me, and has always been close with you." A slow smile spread across her face; I wrapped my arms around my middle. "In fact, Kai offered me a spot with them for lunch today. You know, since half of my social circle is gone."

Cora brightened. "Oh, awesome. I didn't know what we were going to do. It'll be great to have someone to sit with, instead of trying to stake our claim on a new table halfway through the year." She slung her arm through mine, and the faint, floral scent of perfume accompanied her sunny smile. "We should probably get to class. My interrogation has made us totally late."

I couldn't help but smile back. I'd always overlooked Cora. Never given her all of the credit she deserved. Because while Tommy and Sydney may have betrayed me, and forced me to find my own way, she had no such limitations. Maybe she didn't love the pair of them right now, but she had other friends in our old group. And yet, despite the fact that I'd never really stood up to Sydney in the way that I probably should have, she was sticking by me.

Cora was a better friend than I deserved.

"We are beyond late," I said, following her towards our homeroom. Ours was the door on the far right, and homeroom only had a few minutes to go. Cora walked with alacrity to the correct doorway. "You are terrifying when you're nosy, you know that right?"

She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder and gave me a winning smile; a Sydney smile. "Oh, I know."

And she pulled me into the classroom behind her.

"Cora, Valerie," said Mr. Peters as we made it into the classroom. "Nice of you to finally join us."

I waved. "Uh, hey?"

He sighed. "Take a seat."

All of the eyes in the classroom were pinned to me. 24 pairs glued to every single one of my movements. Mr. Peters was already talking again—something about an excursion and signing the appropriate forms—but the hungry gazes of my classmates, the pressure of their stare, seemed heavy enough to drown me.

The sound of my teacher's voice seemed to be travelling through water. It felt as though the sound of a pin drop could be heard, even though I knew that the classroom was noisy.

The fan was so loud I felt like I could feel its reverberation in my soul.

It was hard to know, really, whether the weight of their stares was innocent—who doesn't look at the two girls who are late to class?—or if everyone already knew. Had heard about what Sydney and Tommy had done.

If only I could gauge whether it was idle boredom that drew their eyes to me, or whether it was pity.

I couldn't stand pity.

It was so much easier with Kai at my side. Cora was steadfast and loyal, her smile encouraging as we beelined for our side-by-side seats at the back of the room, but where she was supportive, Kai was a life craft in the middle of a never-ending expanse of sea. When I was with Kai, I was going to demand those stares, revel in them, and they would not be bored or pitying, but envious.

Attention was never something I was comfortable to attract, but I coveted this kind. The kind that would bury hurt and pain. The kind that exacted revenge.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around in my seat, wary of Mr. Peters' sharp tongue and low tolerance for failing to pay attention, to meet Jameson Miller's questioning gaze.