I avoided Milo as best as I could, despite his efforts to reach out to me. He sent exactly two texts,
M: How are you doing?
M: Do you want to talk?
And soon after, he abandoned the cause entirely, which also gripped me with panic. Had Cole spoken to him about...the other night? About how I was only too willing to hook up with my ex-boyfriend, who coincidentally happened to be Milo's stepbrother?
I had beat myself up over the action constantly, and had only found pause in the moments I'd spent with Gia. A shaky sense of peace settled over the pair of us, as we found ways to coexist as best as we could.
I had kept telling myself that she wasn't here to stay, that she would leave me again to fend for myself, and yet the part of me that needed my big sister almost sobbed in relief each time I laid eyes on her.
I bounded downstairs, about to make a morning cup of coffee to see Gia seated at the table already, with two plates of eggs and coffee. The empty place setting beckoned at me, but I knew not to trust it.
"What is this?" I inquired, scrambling to get my shoes on.
"Breakfast," she offered, with a small shake of her shoulders. The look in her eyes seemed so small and timid as if she were worried that I would use the opportunity to last out at her. The truth, however, was much simpler. I was just running late for school.
"I can't eat," I lamented, before tying the last lace tightly, "I have to run. Student council meeting in fifteen minutes, and frankly I can't fly through traffic."
Her eyes turned big and sad, pulling at my heartstrings.
"You can't sit for five minutes?"
An irrational fear gripped at me, that if I left without eating with her it would be the last time I'd see her again. I no longer knew what made her sensitive, what made her happy and what would make her flee. It all felt like a graveyard of eggshells, placed as disguises for bombs. One wrong step and I was worried she would leave and never look back.
That part of me huffed, "Fine. But only five minutes."
I took a seat next to her and wolfed down the eggs with a renewed sense of appreciation. I was never a big cook, having found ways to get by with meals at Casa Nova's or bagged salads most of the time. If I needed a homecooked meal, I would trot over to Katie's house whose mother would serve up all kinds of big dinners. From pho to Korean tacos to chicken tikka masala, Mrs. Turner was a chef extraordinaire, and I was all too eager to be her taster.
But the eggs in front of me were soft and fluffy, with some time of really fragrant butter that put the store bought kind to shame. The bacon was crispy, the coffee was perfect. I gave her a suspicious look as I sipped it, "When did you learn how to cook?"
"This restaurant in New Orleans. I can also make a mean seafood boil if you're up for it."
I shrugged, "We'll see," before chugging the rest of the coffee and grabbing my backpack again. "Was that all?"
She looked hopeful, "Well, I was thinking we could maybe go shopping later this week? I can buy you some new pants, or something."
"I have plenty of pants," I snapped, surprised at how harsh I sounded. If she thought that a pair of pants and some breakfast could make up for bailing on our family, then she had another thing coming. But then, her shoulders turned downwards in tandem with her face. The sight softened something in me, until I relented. "But I could always use some new makeup."
She brightened almost immediately, before nodding, "It's a date. Saturday?"
Will you even be here till then?
Instead, I nodded, "Sure. Yeah. Whatever."
---
I'd missed the student council meeting. And guess who lead it in my stead?
Lily. Of course.
"What the hell is going on?" I spat at Noura, who was doing her best to shrink into a corner.
"We didn't know if you were going to make it on time," she insisted, gripping onto her binder until her knuckles turned pale, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"Don't blame her," Lily piped up, "I was the one that volunteered that we move the meeting along since you were running late."
"I don't remember speaking to you," I snarled, while the rest of student council tried their level best to look busy, "and who put you in charge anyway?"
"You did," she pointed out, "as your secretary, I take over in the absence of the VP."
"And where the hell is Katie?"
"Not here," Lily stood her ground, "Can we talk?"
Noura seized the opportunity to scurry off.
"Say what you want," I hissed, "What you did was low and despicable."
Anger flared in her eyes, before morphing into something soft and understanding. "Is this about Cole?"
I scoffed, "Yeah, okay."
"I think it is," she insisted, "because you've been unfair to me since I've stepped foot on campus. I tried to understand it from your perspective because I understand that you have a lot of responsibility, but frankly I don't know what you're getting out of this."
"I've been unfair?" I wanted to laugh. "You came in, swooped my boyfriend, my friends, and now what? You want the last thing I have left?"
"I don't want to be President," she frowned, "But if you're not available to attend student council meetings, someone has to lead it. I was just doing whatever was within my job description."
Something bitter and hollow took flight in me. How could she be so reasonable when all I wanted to do was set her hair on fire? I knew that she wasn't the cause of my problems, but she'd done a hell of a job catalyzing the dumpster fire that my life had become.
"I want you off this team," I whispered, "I want you off this team, and out of my life. Resign. Do what you must. Leave."
Yet somehow, my normal threat of intimidation didn't seem to faze her. Instead, she crossed her arms, stood up a little straighter, "Or what? What will you do? Frankly, I'm done with these empty ass threats. You want to get back at me? Do your worst. Because I think you know as well as I do that you no longer have the power to do anything anymore."
Her words cut deep, struck a nerve and then severed right through, inflicting enough pain for my vision to turn hazy and red. But right when I thought I would have a complete meltdown right then and there, something like control snapped into place. I leveled my breathing, squared up my stance and leaned down, not breaking eye contact. Lily Hayes may have grown a spine, but I still knew exactly what would cause it to come crumbling down.
"I won't do anything," I whispered, in that tone that often sent people sprawling. But Lily hadn't budged, which made the reveal all that more satisfying, "After all, I don't even have to lift a finger when it comes to you. Not now, not tomorrow, not even on Sunday night, when your so called boyfriend and I almost hooked up."
Her breath turned shallow, her eyes turning red as she whispered, "He wouldn't...you're lying."
"Am I?" I crooned, "Or is Cole?" And for dramatic effect, I slid the collar of my shirt down, to reveal a string of hickeys that Cole had luckily left behind, proof of his philandering.
Her hands balled into fists, and I could tell that she was fighting hard to keep the tears at bay. Let them fall, my subconscious purred, show me how weak you are. How spineless.
I smiled to myself, because while this girl had been plotting to snatch the entire world out from underneath me, I still had one or two tricks up my sleeve. And I always. That was the difference between girls like Lily and I. When you spend your entire life watching your back, you become the very dagger that people had planned on using you. I should have been ashamed, or disappointed in myself for behaving the way I did, but I relished the small victory as she turned to grab her bag, fleeing the scene.
Then, I plastered a smile on my face, and rushed to AP Economics. I had bigger dragons to slay.
---
"Where's Zara?" I asked Katie. She frowned, doing a quick sweep of the classroom.
"I don't know," she admitted, "I actually haven't heard from her since...well y'know."
Our grand old fight, where I smashed her into a fish tank.
"Right," I replied, before sinking into my seat. Mrs. Shah entered the room, setting her bag down in the chair before gesturing at us to settle down as she passed out midterm exams.
When she slapped mine down on the table, I looked at the red marks in horror.
D+
Surely this had to be a mistake. Katie took one look at my paper, and then at me, eyes wide, "Holy shit."
I glanced at her, "What did you get?"
She flipped her exam over, to hide it, "Nothing. Not great."
I grabbed for her exam, "Whatever it is, it had to be better than what I got."
She snatched the paper out of reach, "Hey!"
I frowned, "Why won't you show me what you got?"
"Because," she insisted, "it's not your business. Now can you quit making a scene?"
Something red and prickly grazed the back of my neck, "Not until you tell me what you got."
"Mahi-"
"Why are you being so cagey?" I accused, "What are you hiding?"
She turned red, all of a sudden, and began to respond when a knock sounded at the door. Dean walked in, before zeroing in on Katie and me, giving us a nod, What's up?
"Dean?" Mrs. Shah asked, "Can I help you?"
"Uh...yeah," he cleared his throat and turning to me, "Mahi you're wanted in the principal's office." I frowned, exchanging a look with Katie.
"Can I ask what this is about?" Mrs. Shah inquired.
"I'd rather not say," he muttered back.
Mrs. Shah crossed her arms, "You're going to take one of my students, I'd like a reason."
"It's um...college stuff?"
Mrs. Shah remained unconvinced, "College stuff?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, "there was a problem with one of her transcripts, and it's urgent, so she's needed right away."
She finally relented, "Fine. But make it quick, please."
I got out of my chair, gathering my belongings. Something in the way Dean had hesitated made my blood run cold, and I had a feeling that this wasn't going to be a friendly trip to the principal's office. I glanced at Katie's desk once more, to see the mark that was stamped at the top of her page.
A+
A freaking plus.
I gave her a severe look and she shrank into her seat, the motion making me feel all confused and twisty inside. Even my best friend, the one person that had never been afraid of me, was cowering at me. Cowering because I couldn't handle the fact that she'd outdone me.
I turned and left, my ears red, my heart hammering, as I avoided looking at the class mirror on my way out. As I avoided the thing I wasn't ready to confront, not just yet. The monstrous thing I'd become.
---
"What is she doing here?" I hissed, at the sight of Zara in Principal Brown's office.
"She's here for the same reason that you are," he replied smoothly, "disciplinary matter."
"I told you," she mumbled, "I don't want to press charges."
"And that's noble of you," he smiled, "but the events that transpired between the two of you are not representative of Crestwood high. There's been a video circulating of the fight, and while it's unclear who initiated it, I wanted to give you two a chance to explain yourselves before we pursue disciplinary action."
I took a seat next to Zara, my face on fire, unable to speak or think. Of course this would have been reported sooner or later, but with Gia back, all of my priorities had shifted. Our fight had been long forgotten, inconsequential even, if the man in front of me hadn't brought it up.
Principal Brown pursed his lips at his silence, "Ladies we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way out is you both confess and we contact colleges."
"And hard way?" I ventured.
He gave us a tense look, "Suspension from all school activities and we contact colleges."
Zara shrugged, "I'm fine with that."
"Speak for yourself," I grumbled, "I don't like either of those options."
"I recommend you start talking," he shot back before lacing his fingers, "because frankly there's pizza in the break room, and I'd like to have this sorted out asap."
I snuck a sidelong glance at Zara, who seemed hellbent on refusing eye contact, and was reminded of the time when we were eight years old. We'd gotten into a fight on the beach because she'd socked me too hard with a handful of sand and I'd started crying because if it was one thing I always knew how to do, it was garner attention.
Her mother had reprimanded her deeply and fussed over me. I was so used to being overlooked by my own mother that I had no trouble at all commandeering the spotlight. Zara had sulked by herself for the remainder of that day, while I got head pats and a chocolate chip cookie for being such a trooper.
In the middle school play, she was supposed to play Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, until she'd messed up her lines. I'd only been all too willing to take her spot.
And when high school started, I took the one guy that had been halfway decent to her, and then discarded him like he was a chew toy.
The realizations pinched at me, as the memories began to flood back, of the ways I'd sabotaged the friendship without knowing, without realizing, without caring. I knew that I was a creature of selfish tendencies, knew firsthand how callous I could be, but how could I have forgotten it all? The way she'd tried her best to be a good friend while I razed everything down in my path, her included?
I began to equate fear with love, thought that if I was the best at everything, I would get more attention, more praise, more care. I believed that these superficial contests that I'd indulged in with Zara would put me ahead, would make up for the loss of happiness in my home.
But it didn't. It widened that pit of suffering, and wrecked our friendship in the process. So I did what I should have done all along.
"It was me," I admitted, "I hit her. We got into a verbal exchange but I was the one that laid a hand on her, so put me in detention, do what you must." Then, I turned to Zara, who still refused to look at me, "You can't know how sorry I am."
Principal Brown paused, as if he too were waiting for Zara to acknowledge the apology; however, she remained silent. He let out a sigh, "Alright then. That's that. Two week suspension from all school activities, and this will go on your permanent record."
All of the blood drained out of my face, "Does this mean that colleges will find out?"
He shrugged, "Only time will tell. Most of your applications are in, but if any admissions counselors request further information we would have no choice but to report this. Ivy League colleges typically conduct that kind of survey towards the second half of the academic year. And it is my understanding that you've applied to a couple?"
I suddenly felt small, as anxiety ripped through my stomach, "So no more Columbia?"
He pursed his lips, as if that would soften the blow, "I'm not sure. Sometimes, these things don't get as much weight as we think. But if something does happen, rest assured, we will try and handle it the best we can. After all, you're our star student." And with that, he beamed, looking all too pleased with himself.
Zara, on the other hand, wasn't having it. She got up abruptly, and fled the scene. Principal Brown gave me an understanding look, "Go. We'll talk later."
I grabbed my things and sprinted out, "Zara!"
She didn't respond.
I caught up to her and grabbed her arm, "Zara, wait!"
"What do you want? " she hissed, "what the fuck do you want?" I shrunk at the murderous look in her eyes, and took a step back, contemplating.
"I should have known about you and Dean. I should have paid attention, I should have cared-"
"I'm not rehashing this with you," she snapped.
"But I didn't think about you," I admitted. That stopped her in her tracks, "I've never thought about how my affections affected you. I messed up, Zara."
She shrugged, "Yeah, whatever."
"I know I was dealing with some stuff, and I know that's not an excuse. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry I fucked it all up."
Her expression softened, "You're sorry?"
I took a deep breath, "When we started high school, you told me you wanted to run for prom queen. You told me that it would finally make your mom proud of you, but I took that."
She flinched at my words.
"I took your dream and turned it into mine. I've been doing that for so long without realizing it, because all I ever cared about was me. I was wrong, and I messed up."
She shrugged, "It's a little late, Mahi."
"It doesn't have to be," I replied immediately, "you can still run for prom queen."
She let out a mirthless laugh, "Yeah, right. Against you? I don't stand a chance."
"I'll drop out of the race," I offered, "I'll do your campaign, all of it."
"Actually," she started, before balling up her fists, "I don't want to be prom queen. I don't want anything that you've ever wanted."
"And why not?" I whispered.
"Because I would rather die dreamless than turn out like you."
I staggered under the weight of her words, feeling tears rise, "Zara, you don't mean that. It's not too late for us to fix this-"
"Actually, it is," she interrupted. "This friendship should have long been over by now. So thank you for taking the bare minimum of taking some long overdue accountability, and attempting that apology. But I'm done here. And if you knew what was good for you, you would be too. Bye Mahi. Thanks for nothing."
And with that, she got into her car, and sped off the parking lot, right in time for the ending bell.
---
author's note:
so sorry for the long wait! hope u enjoyed <3