Through The Ash

Unlikely Enemies

I could feel it in the press of shoulders, the shift of feet, the quiet exhalations that said more than words ever could. Jenna, perched with that unreadable expression, seemed ready to spring or snap at the slightest provocation.

Carter's pacing vibrated through the floorboards, a rhythm of impatience that made my stomach churn. Avery whispered to Bianca, the small confidences making their sharp, clipped movements feel like tiny explosions. Liam leaned against the wall, calm on the surface, but the tilt of his head betrayed a restless edge.

And then there was me, standing too tall in the space that didn't belong to anyone, trying to keep my breathing even, trying to make sense of the tension that pressed against my ribs like a physical weight.

We weren't just stuck in a hallway. We were stuck with each other—and with everything that had ever gone wrong between us. Every slight, every betrayal, every unspoken truth felt like it had collected here, coiled in the air, waiting to strike.

And the scariest part? None of us knew why.

"How you holding up?" Carter asked, glancing at me. "You... um. You look a lot different."

"Well, she can talk now—that's different," Bianca muttered, shuddering at the memory of me babbling nonsense right after I woke from the hospital.

"You know," I laughed, shaking my head, "you hear a lot of things when you're in a coma, Bianca." Then I looked toward Avery. "And I really appreciate what you said... in your interview."

"There's no way," Liam scoffed, laughing in my face. "The detective told you that?"

"Aweh, Rain thought she was smart," Jenna chimed in.

"Who asked you?" Bianca shot back, glare sharp enough to shut her up instantly.

"Calm down, babe," Liam murmured, stepping closer to her, before kissing her. One thing led to another, and soon they were lost in a full-blown make-out session, leaving the rest of us to walk down the hall in awkward, tense silence.

"Jenna. You really need to say sorry," Avery tried, voice careful but firm. Jenna froze, blue-green hair catching the light, then flared.

"For?" she snapped, eyes narrowing like she couldn't believe anyone would dare demand accountability from her.

"You hurt Rain," Avery said softly, tapping my shoulder. I shrugged. I didn't want an apology. Jenna could despise me for all I cared.

"I tried to say sorry," Jenna said, voice dripping with exasperation, as if it was my fault she even had to. "But she's impossible! She's selfish, stuck-up... she thinks she's everything just because she landed that writing job. And I—me!—I get blamed for everything. Always. She says I copy her, but maybe we're just two girls doing normal girl things. Normal! She twists it, makes it about her. She's the problem. Always. Always. So yeah... it's her fault."

I laughed, stepping back. "This is gold."

Avery grabbed my arm, trying to pull me forward like we could somehow mend the mess. "Rain's not innocent," she said, hand on her hip. True enough—but I wasn't going to admit it. "But you really fucked up, Jenna."

Jenna spun on Avery, indignant. "You think you're so high and mighty! Don't lecture me, Avery. I'm literally being reasonable here. If anyone needs to apologize, it's her. And honestly, I shouldn't even have to say sorry—you're all overreacting."

Her words were polished, defensive, and dripping with entitlement. She wasn't just refusing responsibility; she was reframing the whole thing to make her the victim.