The Other Girl

Chapter IV

It was the third dance of seventh grade when Calum first approached me. We had both gone to all the dances, but Calum usually had a date— he said yes to almost any girl that asked him, regulated by the "Calum Andrew Remington Fan Club" that was really just a posse of girls headed by Abigail Venet who, at the time, had her sights set straight and true on Calum.

    "I was thinking we could go to the dance together," he had asked with a grin. "As friends."

I felt like I was thrust back into the seat of the bus from so long ago at the time, but it was better this time. We had a title— friends.

"What was that?" Karen Windsor, the new addition to the forming posse that year, asked as Quinn and Whitney giggled like middle school girls do and Abigail pursed her lips. Whitney Lemaistre and Abigail Venet had joined our expansive group of friends in sixth grade, although the four of us were the closest.

"That, Karen, was Calum paying his dues to his secret girlfriend," Quinn said with a smirk. "Admit it already, Stella. You and Calum are secretly dating."

"We are not!" I had shot back fiercely, but of course no one believed me. They were all convinced that Calum had essentially professed his undying love to me, and I didn't have time to convince them otherwise before the bell rang to signal the end of lunch.

The dance—spring formal—had been held on a cruise ship per usual, and the air was a bit chilly on the deck. The sun was still a way before setting, and I remember needing a breather and excusing myself to gaze into the blue expanse of the sea.

"Here," Calum had said, interrupting my silence to drape his coat on my shoulders. "Don't catch a cold."

"We could just go back inside," I had said, clutching the coat tightly. I remember my confusion when he didn't follow me to the door back inside, how perfect he looked eclipsing the dipping star.

"We need front-row tickets for the sunset," he explained, head facing the lolling navy landscape as the sea winds ruffled up kicks of his hair. "I'll save the space, but come out here soon— I'm not that big."

"No you aren't," I remember saying, "so I'm helping you."

We stayed on the deck until the sun kissed the surface of the horizon, purple-orange gradients fading into navy. The girls had found us there with their respective dates, none of them serious, and continued teasing me. Calum seemed amused by it all, leaving me to the wolves.

It was the first time I seriously considered Calum as a romantic interest, but I didn't push it. I had time before I had to start searching. "High school would be ideal," my mother had told me one day over dinner, "but you don't need to start worrying until university. Although boys are equally immature there."

My father was present at the table, but he was tired per usual. Michael William Reyes was the head surgeon at one of the best hospitals in the world, and he usually came home drained if he came home at all. On better days he would inquire about my day, but mostly he would retire early and leave for work while I slept.

My mother "wore the pants" in my family, and she had to— Sheila Teresa Reyes was the CEO of her family's multibillion-dollar company since her elder sister couldn't "step up to the job." She was known as the 'Royce Steamroller' when she first started—unmarried at the time—rising to the top in a little more than two years even though she started with an internship. My mother's great-aunt had been the one to start the company in which her parents didn't hold high positions, but she managed carve her way into the interior with sheer determination. Her success made the Royce branch and, by extension, the Reyes branch the main branch of the family.