Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

033. Until Nothing's Left

I turn a corner and keep my ears perked.  "The point of this is for me to tell you secrets you already know, isn't it?"

"Please.  I know you're not loyal anymore.  Especially not after what he did to you."

Now I'm facing three doors, all of them wide open.  My blackmailer's voice is coming from the one in the middle—a conference room that seems empty from my view.  She must be standing in the corner.  Pulling my phone away from my ear, I start jogging towards the room, but before I reach it the door slams shut.  I hear the lock click just as my palm presses against the cool metal of the door handle.

"Nice try," she says, loud enough for me to hear her through the door and my phone.  "You're never going to find out who I am."

Even though it's pointless, I jiggle the door handle, desperate.  It's agonizingly frustrating for me to have this girl only inches away from me—this girl who has been playing me like a pawn for her own amusement—and be unable to see who she is.  Anger swarms up inside me from deep within and I form a fist, punching the wood so hard I'm sure my knuckles will bruise.

"You can't break your way in, Erika."

I can't listen to her voice for another second.  With a jab of a shaking finger, I end the call.  Then I press my back against the door and slide down against it, relieved when I'm sitting on the floor and don't have to support my body weight anymore.  

At first I think I'll sit here and wait my blackmailer out—after all, she has to leave the room at some point.  But then I realize she may not leave until well in the middle of the afternoon and that I can't afford to skip class, and the memory of Sophie Rinaldi pushing past me in the cafeteria prompts me to stand.

"This isn't over," I call to her through the door.

The voice on the other side sounds far too content for my liking.  "I know it isn't."

I want to punch the door one more time but my knuckles are already swelling with a bruise that Taylor would be proud of, so I turn and walk away.

Thinking of Taylor broaches another subject that I don't want to worry about.  Now every time I think of him, a cloud of cigarette smoke fogs my senses.  I remember how much he annoyed me this morning, how jealous he'd been.  And I want to be mad at him, but somehow I can't.

I've almost reached the cafeteria again.  Shoving thoughts of Taylor into the back of my mind, I vow to focus on only one thing at a time.  And right now, I need to find Sophie.

As I pass the gym I catch a glimpse of blonde.  Turning around, I spot a petite girl with skintight jeans standing in front of the closed gym doors, holding a phone up to the tiny window.  She looks like she's recording something, even though the interior of the gym looks so dark from where I'm standing that I doubt she can see anything.  Curiosity overcomes me and I start walking towards her, but the heels on my boots are too loud and she's gone before I can say a word.

Heart pounding, I take her place in front of the gym door.  The lights are off, but the bleak sun shines enough light through the large back windows that the center of the room is illuminated.  Immediately I see Sophie Rinaldi—I recognize her from the back only because of the bright purple shirt I'd seen her wearing earlier.  She's standing close to someone, but I can't see who it is until she steps back.

Brynn.

Before I realize it, my hand has lifted and is pressed against my mouth.  I watch them for a few seconds, exchanging words that somehow cause Brynn to smile wider than I've seen her smile in months.  Then it's a blur because one of them steps closer to the other—I can't remember who—and suddenly they're kissing.