Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

009. Guilt Tripped

We reach the gym before I've strengthened my resolve, but because I don't want Taylor to see me afraid I hand him the certificate and shoot him and encouraging smile. His jaw is still set, the corners sharp like I remember them being the day Spencer and I caught him with Allison. The day that changed everything.

"Good luck," I tell him, and he nods in acknowledgement. The past is behind us. For now, we're on the same side.

As he walks away with his cell phone pressed against his ear, I readjust my backpack on my shoulders and slink around the corner. Hidden between a brick wall and a particularly large tree, I can overhear his conversation with my sister without being noticed.

"Allison?" He must still be talking on his cell phone, because I don't hear a reply. "It's Taylor. Can you come meet me by the back door of the gym? It's urgent. Don't bring anyone with you."

There's silence, and I figure he's hung up. Now, all there's left to do is wait.

I wish I could pace away my jittery nerves as I wait for my sister to show up, but then I'd risk giving away my hiding place. Instead I cross my arms and resorts to jiggling one of my legs, shifting my weight between the balls of my feet. The alleyway is completely deserted—either nobody frequents this path to the parking lot or most of the students have already left for the day.

After about five minutes, I hear the undeniable clacking of Allison's wedges on the pavement. "Taylor?" she calls shrilly. I know that if I could see her I'd witness her tucking blonde locks behind her ear. "Are you here?"

"Hey, Allison." I expect Taylor's voice to be kind but instead it's cold, nothing like how he spoke to me. "Come over here for a sec."

She approaches and stops in front of him, the muted sounds of her shoes halted abruptly.

"I'm going to show you something, and you can't freak out. Just stay calm and don't ask questions."

When I poke my head around the corner I see that her eyes are wide. She opens her mouth to say something but, heeding Taylor's warning, thinks the better of it and shuts it.

As Taylor reaches a hand into the front pocket of his jeans I hold my breath, because if anything's going to go wrong now is the time. Slowly, the folded-up certificate comes into sight. I exhale slowly in relief, but my pounding heart doesn't slow at all.

"Have you ever seen this?" he asks, producing the certificate and unfolding it.

He hands it to her and she skims it. I don't know what I expect, for her to start crying or protesting or yelling, but she does nothing of the sort. Instead, her face falls gradually, until she looks like she could be lifeless.

"Where did you get this?"

Her voice scares me: it's dull and monotone, like I've never heard her speak before. I lean further around the corner so that I can see Taylor—he's watching her with concern, too, his dark eyes never leaving hers.

"Your sister gave it to me," he says. "She thought we deserved to know."

When she opens her mouth to speak she chokes on her breath. I've never seen Allison so unlike herself, so spiritless. As her hollow eyes slowly lift to meet his, the first thought I have is What have I done?

"We're related," she murmurs, her voice scraping.

My heart has stopped pounding from nerves. Now all I feel is sickness, deep in my stomach. For a second I reason with myself that I never expected this to affect her this much, but then I realize: I did mean for her to be heartbroken. I actually willed my sister into a spiral of angst just so that I'd have a better chance at outdoing her in school. Never has petty revenge taken me this far. And never have I felt this revolted by what I have done.