I wear the hoodie Darcy gave me last night and pull it tight around my face. Maybe, just to spite him, I should walk around campus with his shirt on, not bothering to hide whose room I came from.
I want to cry.
My feet drag as I leave the room. I keep my head down, not because I'm trying to hide – well partly because of that – but mostly because I feel like my hearts been ripped out of my chest.
What is with his mood swings? Which Darcy is the real one? The one that is repulsed by me? Or the one that slowly looks me up and down and grits his teeth?
One of them is a faker – but which one? And why?
I bump into someone as I make my way down the stairwell, someone else who seems to be trying to blend in. "I'm sorry," I accidentally say. Careless.
"Jade?" she says.
She looks back at me, dark brown eyes locking onto mine. She looks at me like I'm filth, like I'm dirt beneath her feet. "Cheeky girl," Alyssa whispers.
She must've been spending the night with Drake. And now she's caught me spending the night here too – but with who? She must be wondering.
I keep my head down and push past her. No one else notices me. Darcy was right.
.
.
.
That night, I sit in my room in my bra and undies. I do the unthinkable. I pose in front of my desk mirror – it's mostly covered by books and assorted shit – and I take a photo. It's dark, so you can mostly see my silhouette. But I know it looks sexy.
I post it to my snapchat story.
I lie by my bed impatiently, waiting for Darcy to see it, to say something. To change his mind. For someone to give me some attention. Between Darcy and Callum, I feel so ugly and undesirable. I just want someone to tell me that I'm beautiful, that I'm hot or that they want me.
What am I thinking? Am I out of my mind? I just uploaded a photo of myself half naked for the universe to see.
The first text I get is from Xander.
Xander: Who u trying to impress?
Me: None of your business.
Xander: You're going to regret this in the morning.
Me: I'm going to delete it, I already do.
I slide off the chat, ready to delete the photo. But first, I want to check if Darcy has even seen it. He hasn't. But Callum has. My cheeks burn red. Oh my God. This suddenly got real very fast.
Callum: I saw it. You can delete it now.
My eyes widen. What an asswipe!
Me: It wasn't for you.
Callum: Delete it. Now.
My heart starts beating rapidly. Is this him trying to be my big brother now? He can't kiss me so he's going to change tactics?
Me: Make me.
Callum: Don't be childish.
That hits deep, so much that my heart sinks down to the pits of my stomach. That bottomless feeling, like your insides are a cold dark well.
I don't know how to respond that doesn't make me seem more immature and desperate.
He texts again.
Callum: Delete. It.
I delete it, before Darcy gets a chance to see, before he has a chance to insult and humiliate me too. For some reason, I think it will hurt more from Darcy.
But Callum... he makes me so mad my lungs burn.
.
.
.
Then, it's regionals.
This time last year, Tim and I were at regionals, entered in the solo and the partner skate competitions. We were heading to nationals.
The competition is at the Mt October ice rink, where I work and where I train.
I run off to the change rooms, changing into another outfit that Acacia gave me. She keeps surprising me with them, showing up to my door unannounced and telling me it's a new addiction for her, and she would wear them if she could. I tell her I will pay her back, and even though she refuses, I know I will make it up to her somehow.
This dress is emerald green. It's long sleeved and appears strapless, but invisible mesh holds it all together. A V is carved out from the top, embellished with diamantes. It's beautiful.
My pace is fast as I jog back into the rink, gentle on my ankles. The announcer calls out my name and I make it onto the ice just in time. I am happy when I can't find Callum's face in the audience.
I begin my routine, one that I definitely haven't focussed enough on the last few days. But somehow, some way, I don't fuck it up. At one point, I catch Alyssa's eyes in the crowd. I do my best to send her a condescending smile before tucking into a ball and spinning so fast I see dark shapes.
When I finish my routine, the crowd is content. A small voice in my head says Tim should be here. I'm so dishevelled by it that I almost falter making my way off the ice.
I don't, even when Alyssa's voice is called over the speakers and she pushes past me onto the ice. I try not to openly glare at her, knowing the judges won't appreciate poor sportsmanship.
They announce the winners shortly after that. I'm not surprised when I win, but I am surprised when Alyssa comes second. Her score beating the third place by more than a standard deviation. She's improved. Maybe she will be competition for me after all.
I almost feel sorry for her – that she cares so much about this but will probably never beat me, when I care little for it.
"Medals will be delivered to the winners later in the evening, so their names can be engraved," the main announcer says.
In the change rooms, the girls in the grade below me fawn over me like I'm some mythical creature. Instead of being modest or humble, I catch Alyssa's gaze. The only revenge or justice I get for the way she treats me is beating her out on the ice. It's the only thing she hasn't bought her way into – yet. I wouldn't put it past her to bribe the judges.
When the girls in the grade below leave, Alyssa whispers under her breath, "not bad for a slut with no fashion sense," before sashaying out of the room.
I grit my teeth hard.
.
.
.
It's Perry's drama performance tonight. It starts at seven, so I walk with Acacia and Xander to the auditorium turned makeshift theatre.
On the way in we pick up some popcorn and m & m's. Xander and Acacia have their hands interlaced. I don't want to be jealous – not because of Xander, obviously – but that their relationship is flawless and easy. What even does Darcy think about me? I have no clue. But I think about him too much and it bothers me.
Then Callum just infuriates me.
We find our seats in the audience, watching in the darkness as the curtains are drawn.
"What's the play again?" I lean over Xander to ask Acacia.
"Twelve Angry Men," she whispers, munching on her popcorn.
The play begins with a court scene. I can see Perry in the jury, her blond hair shining like a beacon. I assume they gave her that hideous hat because it was drawing too much attention.
A few seats over, Darcy sits behind her. Even in this role, he plays the quiet, mysterious juror. His expressions reveal little, his mannerisms few.
The next scene, the twelve jurors sit in a board room, barred from leaving until they come to a unanimous decision: guilty or not guilty.
"They think different, they act different," Juror 10 says, bigotedly.
When Darcy speaks, Xander groans pointedly. I forgot their feud.
I'm too enthralled by Darcy to elbow Xander, even though he deserves it. Although I try to keep focus on Perry, my eyes can't help but drift to Darcy, sitting in the corner of the room, saying little but seeming thoughtful.
The play is over quicker than I anticipated, possibly because I was so distracted by Darcy's haunting eyes. Even from far away, he's breathtaking. I want to punch myself for even thinking it.
The three of us make our way backstage to congratulate Perry. The change rooms are large with celebrity mirrors. We walk over to Perry, who's sitting on a seat and taking off her accessories and costume props.
I take some carrots from my purse and hand them to her. I wanted to bring flowers, but the carrots were more conspicuous.
She smiles at me, in a way she hasn't for the last week or two. Carrots are her favourite snack – trust me, I would've brought her junk food if she would have accepted it. My favourite snack is pocky sticks. I wanted so badly to bring her pocky sticks for us to share, but that would be selfish. And I'm only selfish sometimes.
"Can we talk for a sec?" Perry says, despite being in the company of Acacia and Xander.
They take the hint and walk away.
"I'm really sorry for how I've been acting," Perry says, pouting slightly.
"I really missed you this week," I say, "I wanted to talk to you about so much, but you seemed angry still."
"I was – but not at you. I just... I've been so stressed about this performance. Now that it's over, I realised I've been being a jerk for no reason."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Darcy in the corner of the room with the other guys. He looks between me and Perry and smiles as if to say 'glad you two made up'. Though I wonder if I imagined it. How could he possible regard me this way when the other morning he stalked out of the room as if I was a rodent needing extermination? As if he was expecting a princess but got a frog?
I reach forward and hug Perry, burying my face into her neck.
She hugs me back, even though neither of us like physical touch all that much. I want to hug her longer, but out of respect of her boundaries take a step back.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy," she says with a small grin.
"I'm sorry too, Patrick," I giggle.
.
.
.
It's probably nine when I get back to my room – so it's too early for me to go to sleep. I open up my history assignment, punching a few sentences out onto my keyboard.
I'm proud of myself for finishing two paragraphs when I hear a knock on my door.
"Jade, it's me," a voice says.
I'm not expecting it to be Callum.