In Real Life ✓

39. Being Nice Is Overrated, Change My Mind

Thankfully, it didn't take long for everyone to get used to the idea of DukeCockroach being among the students of our school. Soon enough, the staring stopped and a lot less people randomly came up to me to tell me that I was funny (I know) or to ask me for an autograph (fuck no). The only person who hadn't given up yet was Felicia.

For some fucking reason, she and her ditzy, little followers kept joining me at my table in the cafeteria. It's not like they weren't allowed to sit at the other end of the twenty-feet long table, but it was kinda weird, because they usually sat... literally anywhere else. What's worse, at the end of the week, she even took the seat next to me in class.

"Hello, Felicia," I said, after shrugging at Tamara and Leslie, who gave me what-the-fuck looks from across the classroom.

"Hi, Eve."

"What is your issue?"

She frowned in confusion. "There is no issue."

"Why do you keep hanging around me?"

Her frown turned into a little smile. "Am I not allowed to do that?"

"That's not what I said. I asked you why you do it."

"Maybe I like hanging around you?"

"I find that very hard to believe," I replied. "Does this, perchance, have anything to do with the fact that I'm DukeCockroach? Or do you just want another favor from me?"

She shrugged, so I let it go for now.

We sat next to each other in silence as the lesson started, and I made notes while Felicia filed her nails beneath her desk so our teacher wouldn't see it. When it was time to do a practice assignment—it was supposed to be done individually, but everyone used the time to chat, as usual—I asked, "So when are you going to tell your brother about Ash?"

From the way Felicia's coated lashes started fluttering in shock, I assumed I'd hit it right on the nail, so I added, "Is that it? Do you want my help or something?"

"No," she spat.

"Then what?"

"I... I don't want anything from you. I just... Okay, fine." She rolled her eyes and lifted her hands to make quotation marks in the air as she said, "I'm 'hanging around you' because I'm avoiding Ash and Thomas, and I want your help."

"Mm-hmm." I put my pen down with a mocking, little smile. "I'm not gonna help you, though."

She made an offended sound.

"What makes you think I'd help someone like you?" I asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry to break it to you, Felicia, but you're kind of a bitch. I really don't want to help you if you don't fucking grow up and show some kindness and respect to your classmates. There's no need to act like a mean girl all the time. Everybody knows what happens to Regina George at the end of the movie."

She scoffed as I casually flipped the page of my notebook over to an empty page and wrote down the answer to a question. She wasn't even doing any of the work. Go figure.

"What is your GPA?" I asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Just wondering."

"3.4."

"Huh, not bad for someone who literally comes to class just to give herself a manicure."

"I don't need to take notes," she said, rolling her eyes again. "I listen."

"You could get higher grades if you took notes."

"Ugh, why does it matter?"

"Look, Felicia. You want my help? Here's some advice: you have to put effort into things. Not just school. Everything. Everyone. Because anything you do and say has consequences. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Not at all. What does this have to do with Ash?"

"Figure it out yourself."

"Well, that's no help."

"Too bad. I'm not gonna do it for you."

"Then just tell me what I should do!"

At that moment, our teacher said our time was up and asked the class for the answers, so I didn't get to tell Felicia what to do. Not that I was going to. She could rot in a pile of shit for all I cared.

I genuinely meant what I said, though. I wouldn't even mind talking with Felicia if she wasn't such a vicious, selfish harlot. Okay, I guess that last part was no longer applicable, considering she was actually committed to Ash (surprisingly), but she wouldn't be any longer if she kept acting like this. Soon enough, Ash would get tired of her bullshit, too. He might already be sick of keeping their relationship a secret from his best friend. Who knows? I didn't. I'd never really talked to the guy.

Anyway, that's what I meant with putting effort into things. If she didn't show him that she was, in fact, committed, he'd probably end up breaking up with her. And the longer she put off telling her brother about it, the angrier he'd be once it finally got out—through someone else's chatty mouth. She needed to tell him herself and show him that she was serious about this relationship.

She just needed to rip off the bandaid, really. That's it.

When the class was over, she said, "Eve, please."

So I told her, "Rip off the bandaid."

And she called after me, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

And I walked away. Smiling.

I knew I should be following my own advice as well. I should put some effort into my own relationship with Gilbert and talk with him about our issues (like Tamara told me to) and solve them instead of sweeping them under the rug like two directionless, emotionless zombies.

But, well... that was a lot easier said than done.