"Are you dating Elliot for real?" Bianca whispered sharply, as we stood in front of the vending machine of the cafeteria.
"Deja vu," I muttered with a smile. "Yeah. For real. Ester's not getting a drink right?"
"Yeah, just water for her. Bloody hell, it's been so difficult to get some alone time with you. They're totally birds of the same feather- Noah Hall and Elliot Lockwood. They cling on like some sick puppies."
"You mean to say Noah Hall clings onto you like a puppy?" I grinned, pressing a button for a canned ice cafe latte.
Bianca's lips twisted like she'd just stepped on vomit, but a slight flush came over her cheeks.
"He's never serious. What about you? When the heck did you start dating him? Exactly how did things progress so fast?
"I remember on the first day of school he asked if you remembered him. And that very day, there was a pap photo of you two in the car ki-"
"Shh," I mumbled, pulling out the cold can from the machine. "Yeah. Things that happened that way."
"I thought you were the kind who would psychoanalyze the guy and analyze his personality for maybe a year then you'd consider him a decent human, then you would analyze him for some more, then maybe consider being a little nice to him, and then a year later, maybe consider dating him."
Personality. What was Elliot Lockwood's personality?
"Yeah, I guess," I chuckled. "What're you getting?"
"Hmm- coke." Bianca pressed the button, and slotted in the cash. "Then? What, he's an exception to your step-by-step scrutinization?"
"I honestly don't know, Bi. I can't explain," I said sheepishly.
It was true- I couldn't possibly explain this whole give-and-take relationship I was in with Elliot. It wasn't a normal relationship, that was for sure.
"Something that can't be explained-" Bianca grunted, pulling out the coke, and beamed at me. "That's called love, my friend. Ah, the Artificial Intelligence has finally opened its eyes to love."
"L-" Even the first alphabet made me cringe. "You're definitely coming to the tennis match right?"
"Yeah, for sure," said Bianca firmly as we headed back to our cafeteria table. "I'm not leaving you in the depths of bloody hell with the she-who-shall-not-be-named that clings to Elliot like a hundred year old vine."
"Good," I sighed. "Because I don't know how I can-"
We stopped short, just as a girl stood from her seat and in front of us. To be exact, in front of me.
A girl with large, baby-blue eyes, carrying a handbag instead of a backpack, she looked like she wasn't a student from around here.
The low buzz of murmurs in the cafeteria crowd rose in volume. The eyes that had so subtly scanned me as I walked through the cafeteria with Bianca, were now overtly pinned on me- and the girl standing before us.
"You're Clare, right?" She asked clearly, looking straight into my face. "Clare Horan?"
Her eyes were so strangely calm, they were almost off-putting. Something about her was strange. Like the calm before a storm, like the calm of a mountain before a volcanic eruption.
"Yes-"
I heard gasps, screams and shouts, before I felt anything. Before I realized, that with the edge of her handbag, she'd smashed it across my head.
The senses came back slowly, one by one. First, I felt a low throb on the side of my head, then the vibrant swearing of Bianca, and then, the heat of all pairs of eyes in the cafeteria, on me.
"Brittany King. Is the name familiar to you, Clare?" The girl asked, slowly.
"Melissa Miller, Brittany King, Joella Chavez."
The three actresses.
Brittany King, the youngest of them all. She was twenty-one years old and had just had her first supporting role in a blockbuster movie. How could I forget.
"While your dad gambled away at the casino after getting out of jail, Mr. Lockwood visited my family."
The cafeteria, a few seconds ago filled with crushes of noise, was as silent as a library.
"He apologized for not being of greater help. He said, as someone of influence, he felt responsible for not realizing such heinous crimes against young actresses were happening, so close to him."
Blood slowly drained from Bianca's face. I simply stood, staring at the girl, wondering what I was supposed to feel at this moment.
The girl's lips trembled. "My name is Josephine King. I'm the sister of the late Brittany King, one of the three young women your father-"
"Jo."
A firm hand clamped over the girl's shoulder. It was Elliot, Elliot Lockwood.
Hearing those words from her, standing in the middle of the cafeteria with a cold can of cafe latte in hand, I hadn't known what I was supposed to feel. What to say.
But that moment, seeing Elliot hug Josephine King, seeing her sob into his shoulders, hearing him murmur "It's all right, it's all right", something in me seemed to snap.
The confusion of emotions broke, and became as clear as day, and merged into one.
Anger.
The revolting hypocrisy of the Lockwoods who made my family's life a living hell three years ago.
Jessica and I stood in front of her car, covered in pools of raw eggs. On its hood, was one stark word in red spray paint.
'Murderers'
"Well." Jessica slipped her car key into her pocket. She stared at her car for a while, and then, turned to look at me with a mischievous grin. "That's enough eggs to last us a lifetime, hm?"
"I know-" Josephine King's shoulders trembled, and she drew back from Elliot, sniffing. "I know it's not her- her- fault but I-"
"I know, Jo. I know." Elliot squeezed her hand once, tight. The look of understanding, the pain on his face. "It's okay."
"Jo!" A sixty-something year old woman, sweating and barely catching her breath, came up to Josephine King. "Oh lord. Elliot, thank you so much. I don't know what got into her to come to school again- she's been all right the past few-"
The woman stopped herself, and looked at me. The slight lit of her accent, the large, baby blue eyes. She was Josephine King's mother. Brittany King's mother.
Without another word, looking away from me as if one would look away from a mould growing on a wall, she turned away, and her arm linked through her daughter's, walked away, slowly.
"Clare." Bianca's voice, laced with pain.
"Well." Jessica slipped her car key into her pocket. She stared at her car for a while, and then, turned to look at me with a mischievous grin. "That's enough eggs to last us a lifetime, hm?"
"Mum." I stopped.
My voice. It was shaking. It didn't sound like mine.
"You know- I'd rather be a bitch than be pathetic. Clare, don't look down. We didn't do anything wrong."
With a sigh, Jessica removed both of her high heels, and handed one to me. A gold, sparkling, glittering high heel, sharp in the toe and sharp in its heel. It was cold and heavy in my hand.
Jessica stood on the parking lot bare feet, but somehow, she felt taller than usual.
"Today is the day you fulfill media's stereotype of spoiled brat bitches born rich, young lady." Jessica rolled up my sleeves, then hers. She grinned. "Show them how we smash a Porsche with Jimmy Choos."
"Bi. Let's go have lunch. I'm starving."
Bianca stared at me for a while like I'd spoken a foreign language. Then, her face set tight, she nodded.
"Okay. I'm telling you, the second best thing about Valley Oak after its bloody pretty building, is its aglio olio."
Elliot took a step towards me. His face tense, his lips parted, unspoken words on them. "...Clare-"
"I know you're a victim of the Lockwoods," I said softly, "but I kind of don't want to hear anything close to words of solace from your lips, this moment."
He was a victim, certainly.
He hadn't done anything wrong. But after seeing him comfort Josephine King, a taste of bile crawled up my throat.
Despite the brown eyes starkly different from the blue Lockwood ones. Despite the alabaster fair skin starkly different from the sun-kissed, olive colored Lockwood complexion.
Even despite the bruises.
That very minute, I perfectly understood Josephine King's sentiments when she'd swung her handbag onto my head a minute ago.
Elliot nodded, slowly. What could he be thinking? What was he feeling?
"Okay."
Then, surrounded by the growing indistinguishable buzz of the cafeteria crowd, the three of us made our way back to our seats.