A Recipe for Evil

Hate

"Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire." Kurt Tucholsky

It's odd how things can change quickly. A few weeks prior, she was a "nobody". She used to be perceived by others as someone as uninteresting as the fading colour of St-George High's classroom walls. She has, since then, turned into a social butterfly. Almost as popular as a cheerleader, she is invited everywhere. Girls now want to be her friend and boys are lining up to ask her on a date.

Coincidentally, Myriam's popularity has been decreasing. The raven beauty seem to be plunging into a self-indulged solitary confinement. Most of the time, she can be seen dragging her feet down the hallways. Her whole body seems to project an aura of darkness. She is gloomy and always in her own little world.

It would be perfect if it weren't for the fact that Myriam is a fighter. She is a wild tiger. Even when wounded, she imposes respect. Girls are scared of her and, since her promiscuity level had gained a colossal escalation, boys still whistle when she passes by them. Even in her despair, she is devastatingly beautiful.

It's ironic, Amy muses, that both of them are heartbroken.

The scheming actress made a few observations about her enemy. When Myriam thinks no one is looking, her eyes linger on Melissa and John's displays of affection, her mouth twitches nervously and, occasionally, her forehead creases with what seems to be disgust. Then her body stiffens, she rises her chin up, and she looks sternly in front of her, her face becoming a wall of impassibly.

At times, Amy pities her. All thoughts of vengeance fly out of her mind and a rush of compassion takes over her heart. It lasts until Myriam glares at her or throws one of her snarky remarks. She remembers then and the feeling of guilt leaves her.

It's easy to hate her. It's almost as easy as it had been to love Louis or maybe even more. It's turning into an obsession. She thinks of her vengeance constantly. She thinks of Myriam constantly. She is everywhere in her mind.

She knows her habits perfectly. She knows her class schedule by heart. She knows that at the end of each class she goes to the closest bathroom to readjust her hair and makeup. She knows who she thinks is cool and who she think is not. She knows to whom she likes talks and with whom she is sleeping. She knows how she often grunts through her teeth when she is sad. She knows she is snappier when she is mad. She knows she stares out the window when she is bored. She knows that, even though she is pretending not too, Myriam listens to what her teachers have to say and when she finds it interesting her feet sway in a childish back and forth motion.

Amy knows a lot of things about Myriam Zarruq, but the most important thing she has learned thorough her observation is that she is, like any other human being, fallible.

She has flaws.

She has secrets.

She has fears.

She is like everyone else and like everyone else she can be broken.

Amy is proud of herself. The pieces of her plan are slowly falling into place. She approaches the school's cheerleading coach on a Monday morning, hoping to be given the opportunity of trying out for the team. The young college student, hired as the school's cheerleading coach, tells her she would consider the option of letting her audition.

She informs Kelly and Meredith during lunch time about it. Of course, they squeal over the news. Her minions are as unexciting as they are useful and Amy pretends to like them as much they probably pretend to like her. They spend most of their meal talking about very important issues which mostly turn around whom should date whom and whom shouldn't. Trying to escape the unbelievable dullness of her social duties, Amy excuses herself.

"I have to go to the restroom," she says before walking away with a sway to her hip.

Shaking her head to chase a growing headache, she pushes the restroom's door open and is met with an unexpected vision. There- next to the window- is Myriam looking forlornly at the twirling, dancing, battling, sea of snowflakes. Her temple is pressed against the cold hard brick, her eyes are lost in despair, and her pearly white teeth are chewing nervously unto her strawberry bottom lip. Amy is fast to notice that she is listening to music, a sad song judging by her facial expression, which explains why she hasn't reacted to her entrance. The room is terribly cold and, even though the raven haired beauty has unconsciously wrapped her arms around her ribcage, she is shivering. Her right foot is leisurely running up and down her calf, a poor attempt to rise her body temperature. But Myriam doesn't seem to care about her frozen limbs, more than that, she doesn't seem to notice her body state. She is so far off in her thoughts that the exterior world doesn't seem to affect her.

Amy flushes. She feels as though she is interrupting an oddly intimate moment. She is about to leave when a whispery voice stops her.

"You think I haven't seen you?"

The small actress exhales a breath she didn't realized she had been holding. She looks back at Myriam. The sad-looking brunette has shifted position and is now standing with her back against the wall. Her ponytail is compressed against the wall, the position messing her usually perfectly neat hairdo. Her eyes- now set on Amy- are puffy and red. Her lips are swollen and, even if a fair amount of makeup is there to conceal them, an obvious lack of sleep can be discerned by the large blue rings under her dark brown eyes.

"You seemed like someone in need of alone time." Amy replies with cautious apprehension.

Myriam snorts darkly.

She brings her hands together and starts rubbing them roughly against one another.

"This school is so cheap. There's, like, no heat. It's so freaking cold in here."

Amy smiles hesitantly. What Myriam is telling her isn't exactly nice, per se, but it's kinder than her usual biting comments. It almost seems as an attempt to engage into a form of dialogue.

"I know!" She answers in a similarly frustrated tone. Through Kelly and Meredith's contact, she has gotten used to those type of interactions and it has made her discover that the best way to be liked is to pretend to be deeply invested into their conversation.

Myriam shrugs before disappearing into a bathroom stall. She comes back a few seconds later with a piece of toilet paper. She opens one of the sinks and imbibes the paper with water, closes it abruptly, and proceeds into wiping off the smudges of mascara under her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"She suddenly stops and her gaze shifts towards Amy." It's creeping me out."

"You look..." Amy realizes she can't use the first words that come to her mind which were "miserable", "lonesome", or even "exhausted". She stops on her trail and bites her lip. "You look like you're freezing. Would you like me to lend you my jacket?"

Myriam huffs. Her tongue slides anxiously across her lips and she looks thoughtful for a moment.

" 'Kay, I guess I wouldn't mind. You sort of improved your wardrobe lately." She says with a crooked smile.

Amy unzips her jacket and hands it to the other girl. Myriam grasps it greedily and soon she is analyzing from every angle the effect it has on her figure. She smirks, nods approvingly, walks towards the restroom's door, and opens it.

She pauses into the doorway.

"Thanks," she says briefly before disappearing into the hallway.

Amy watches her go with a slight smile on her face. She has to admit that part of her admired the other girl. Even if her social status is sinking, Myriam still walks with her head up high.