A Recipe for Evil

Hatred is blind, as well as love

"Hatred is blind, as well as love." Oscar Wilde

When Amy enters her Spanish class at the end of the day, she immediately feels the tensed atmosphere. A heavy silence is filling the room. Louis and Anthony are sitting in the back row. Their eyes are fixed on the ceiling and they seem profoundly bored, nothing unusual. Kelly is bent forward, giggling, and gossiping with Meredith. They are both giving side looks to Matt. The young man is standing against the wall, looking forlornly at Clarisse.

That's when Amy notices the distance between the two lovers.

"Why is Matt so far away from Clarisse?" Amy whispers to Meredith as she sits on a chair next to her.

"Haven't you heard?" Meredith replies a bit too loudly. "Clarisse broke up with him."

Amy glances at the head cheerleader and their eyes meet briefly. There is no doubt that Clarisse has been listening to their exchange. The blonde's stare goes back to her notebook on which she appears to be sketching a well-drawn caricature of their Spanish teacher. Amy takes note of how similar the drawing is to the one she has discovered on the backseat of the cheerleading team's bus. Of course, that particular caricature did not represent their Spanish teacher, it was an unflattering portrait of Amy. It had most probably been made a long time ago. Their relationship had evolved a lot since then, but it still hurt every time Amy laid eyes on it.

Melissa and Jake run into the room. The tall girl seems much better than earlier. She sports a childish grin on her face and she is looking at her boyfriend in an amorous way. Jake chases her as she navigates between the classroom's desks, both of them laughing uncontrollably. She wraps her arms around his neck when he reaches her and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down on a chair near a window. Amy smiles at the sight. She is glad to see that their little conversation paid off and that Melissa is able to recognize how lucky she is to have such a loving boyfriend at her side.

Mrs. Ramirez enters the classroom a few seconds later and closes the door behind her. She starts babbling in Spanish and Amy barely listens.

Someone knocks at the door. Mrs. Ramirez interrupts her speech and moves across the floor, but Myriam barges into the room before she could reach the doorknob.

She is wearing dark gray harem pants paired with a black crop top. Her heels are impossibly high which, to someone as small as Amy, makes her seem incredibly tall. Her hair is tied up in a mid-low ponytail. Her straight cut bangs fall over her eyes, throwing a shade over them. It makes her seem even harder to read than usual. She is wearing makeup, a massive amount of makeup. Her foundation hide all possible flaws in her face which makes her seem alien, emotionless, almost inhuman. Her lips are shiny and almost viscous under the sheer amount of lip-gloss covering them. Around her right wrist is a silver chain- a friendship bracelet- that Amy hasn't seen in months. It matches perfectly the one always attached to Melissa's wrist. The actress's heartbeat quickened anxiously when she recognized it.

"Thank you for joining us Myriam," Mrs. Ramirez says, breaking the silence provoked by her sudden appearance. "I'm glad you could make it. I heard you were sick. I'm glad you could join us and I hope you feel better."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever…" Myriam glances at her teacher and rolls her eyes before giving a circular look around the room. Her eyes fall on the only free chair, between Clarisse and Amy, her usual spot. She scowls, crosses her arms over her chest, and walks towards her seat, her hips swaying proudly to the rhythm of her steps.

Clarisse swiftly shifts her body toward the brunette and whispers something to her. Amy tries to decipher what the blonde is saying, but the head cheerleader is muffling the sound of voice with her hands.

Myriam chuckles.

"Really?" She asks, sounding deeply amused. Clarisse nods vigorously before pulling back, giggling and gently biting down on her bottom lip.

Amy's heart sinks. She feels left out. She should probably have worked more on gaining Clarisse's friendship, but the head cheerleader is even harder to approach than Myriam. She seems cold and calculating. She isn't as gratuitously mean as the dark brunette, but she chooses her friends in a very selective manner. No matter how hard Amy tries, she never seems able to fall into this category. It isn't that she wants to befriend the other girl. She is just uncomfortable to know that Myriam has a relationship with someone that isn't under her control. She also dislikes the fact that the raven beauty is giving so much attention to Clarisse while completely ignoring her.

Amy sighs and tried to focus on Mrs. Ramirez. The old woman is gesticulating in front of the class as she gives her lesson. Her concentration wanes quickly, all she can think of is her two classmates whispering next to her. She feels like interrupting them to point out how rude they are being. The slight noise they are making buzzes in her ear in a very irritating way. Her frustration is growing by the minute and she feels like running away from the room, away from the horrible feeling emerging in the pit of her stomach.

Amy doesn't seem to notice that she's been subconsciously scratching her right arm until Meredith grabs it to stop her.

"What the hell are you doing?" The redhead tells her and Amy's gaze drops on the dark red patch across her skin.

Everybody turns towards them and the actress blushes. Myriam throws a nervous glance her way for the first time that day and Amy feels her heart stop.

"I think I have a rash. I must be allergic to something." The words come out of her mouth awkwardly.

Her declaration is followed by an uneasy silence. Mrs, Ramirez clears her throat, bringing the attention back to herself and everything was forgotten. Amy notices that the two cheerleaders stopped talking. Their moment has been broken and they are now both staring at the front of the clasroom. Clarisse's long legs are twisted around the base of her chair. Her feet are pointing gracefully to the back of the room and a crooked smile is twisting the corner of her mouth. Myriam's eyebrows are furrowed. Her feet are tapping an irregular rhythm on the floor. She seemsd to be chewing the inside of her cheek and her hands are gripping the sides of her chair.

Amy hates this situation. It's beyond awkward. She probably shouldn't have made that move the previous day. It's too early. Myriam does not trust her and there seem to be no way to cross the sudden gap between them. As subtly as she can, Amy tries to move her chair closer to her. The darker girl notices it and her features harden. The actress waits until her classmate's attention is back on the teacher before attempting anything else. She extends her fingers, separating the distance between her hand and the other girl's, and grazes it shyly. Myriam's grip on her chair grows so hard that her knuckles turn white. Amy takes a deep breath. She stays still until she is certain that the brunette won't pull away from her touch.  When it gets obvious that she isn't planning on doing so, the actress lets her fingers gently brush the back of the other teenager's hand. Myriam's mouth twitches nervously and her body stiffens. She closes her eyes for a second or two before slowly opening them and turning her gaze in Amy's direction.

The actress flushes and her heart starts thumping anxiously against her chest.

She feels shocked by the large amount of struggling emotions reflected by other girl's stare, fear being the most preeminent of them all.

Amy gulps and her eyes grow wide.

For a second, she almost forgets how much she hates the girl in front of her.

Myriam looks away, breaking the spell. Amy shakes her head, trying to erase those fearful brown eyes from her mind.  She tries her best to hold back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Her vision becomes blurry. She doesn't want to see Myriam vulnerable. It scares because it seems so out of character for other girl.

Amy chased her tears away with a swift hand motion and her gaze shifts anxiously around the room. She catches blue eyes looking their way and has to hold back a gasp. Melissa has been studying them all along. Amy shutters, an uneasy feeling washing over her.

She sniffs and Myriam's soft hand suddenly shifts beneath her own. Amy feels the raven beauty's fingers settle between hers, squeezing them tightly. Cold metal presses against Amy's wrist.  She looks down to find Myriam's friendship bracelet brushing against her skin. She glances back at Melissa.

The blonde has her eyes on the blackboard at the front of the class, a small smile dancing across her lips.