As soon as I got off the school bus the next morning, I went to find Miles. I'd spent a small chunk of my time last night creating the perfect apology letter for him. Well, it was more of an apology card. It would still get my point across, though.
Just as I suspected Miles was in the quad, sitting at one of the picnic tables and looking down at his phone. He was alone like he always was in the morning. Maybe because he was the only one crazy enough to sit outside in thirty-degree weather.
"Here's your apology." I dropped the envelope on the table in front of him, then took a seat across from him.
He let out a small laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to actually do it."
"I said I would, so there it is." I only hoped my expression looked as impassive as I wanted. Any laughter could make him suspicious.
Watching as he unsealed the envelope and pulled out the card, I found keeping a straight face difficult. It didn't help that he was taking his precious time with it.
"You did this yourself?" He pointed to the lettering on the card and I nodded. Looking at the card now, I realized just how much time spent I spent on it.
The word "sorry" was written in a font you'd find in someone's bullet journal. My handwriting had never looked so neat.
When he finally pulled the card open he was hit with an explosion of colorful confetti and broke into a laughing fit.
He chuckled as he removed pieces of paper from his lips. "I didn't know you were a prankster."
"My pranks are reserved for only my favorite people." I smirked.
"Should I be honored or terrified?" He questioned, dusting more confetti from his jacket.
"Both," I said. "So, how does Saturday work for you?"
"I'll be there."
+ + +
The moment I stepped into Mrs. Hawk's classroom I knew something was off. There was tension in the air and it wasn't hard to figure out why.
Every day since I started at Westbrook Kimber and Jem had worn the same outfit, hair style, even make up. They were The Twins.
Today, they were opposites. Jem wore all white and Kimber was dressed head to toe in black.
Even Kimber's lettering, as she wrote out today's agenda, lacked its usual flare. Jem seemed uninterested as she tapped away at her phone screen, sitting at a desk on the far side of the room.
Riley and Chelsea were sitting in the middle row, watching the two cautiously. I joined them.
"What's going on with them?" I asked, quietly.
"Kimber says she's mourning the loss of her best friend," Riley whispered back, not taking her eyes off of them. "Jem says she celebrating her freedom."
"This is so unnatural. The Twins aren't twins and it's scary," Chelsea chimed in dramatically. "Can't you two talk it out like adults?"
Jem looked up from her phone. "I have no issue having an adult conversation about this, but that's impossible to get with the control freak."
Kimber whipped around, pointing the uncapped, black, whiteboard marker at her sister. "I'm not trying to control you, I'm giving you advice."
"Advice I don't want."
"It's advice you need. You're dating a freaking drug dealer," Kimber exclaimed, causing Chelsea to gasp.
Who knew Jem was into bad boys?
"Ex! Ex-drug dealer," Jem corrected.
Kimber scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like that's any better!"
The two of them continued back and forth. Now standing in each other's faces. Jem yelled at Kimber to get her own life, Kimber yelled at Jem to make better choices, both turned red in the face.
The screaming match caught the attention of a few students passing by. Their phones were pulled out, waiting for a fist fight. By the way The Twins were closing in on each other, a fight seemed like a possibility.
"We should stop them," I suggested, standing from my seat. That situation was nothing like the party I went to years ago, but I couldn't just sit back and watch. Not like my supposed friends who knew what was going to happen, deciding not to intervene.
"No, you don't want to do that," Riley warned. "You haven't heard the story of Charlie."
"Charlie?" Chelsea questioned.
"Our second grade class pet that they fought over and murdered," Riley explained.
I stepped away, my mind set on preventing Kimber and Jem from coming to blows. The small cluster of bystanders turned into a crowd, everyone hyped up to see a fight.
"The bell's going to ring soon. We should start walking to class," I said, hoping to get them to pause their argument.
"No, I'm not going anywhere until she promises to keep her nose out of my relationship," Jem snarled, shoving Kimber's shoulder.
"Excuse me for not wanting you to end up being some guy's drug mule," Kimber retorted, shoving her sister back.
I glanced over at the students crowding the door, getting excited over the physical contact. The look of amusement on their faces was disgusting.
"People are watching," I pointed out. "You'll get in trouble."
"I don't care, let them watch," Jem shrugged, her dark eyes still, shooting daggers at Kimber.
"Of course, it's all about attention for you," Kimber scoffed. "Doesn't even matter who it comes from. Our parents, a teacher, a drug dealer."
Jem's nostrils flared. "Stop calling him that!" she shouted, launching at Kimber.
What happened next was a bit of a blur, but it ended with me on the cold linoleum floor and my eyes stinging.
"Oh my gosh, Loren!" Kimber gasped, pulling me up with the help of Jem.
Their frantic apologies were barely audible over the whoops and hollers of our peers. Their sounds quickly died out and I immediately knew why.
"What is going on in here?" Mrs. Langley, the vice principle, demanded.
Despite the three of us telling her it was just an accident, me, Jem and Kimber ended up in the principal's office.
"A cheerleader brawl? Now, that's something I haven't witnessed," the man said from behind his desk.
The three of us sat in very uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting to be reprimanded. Having a freezing cold ice pack on my eye made me extra uncomfortable.
"It wasn't a brawl, Principle Morrison," Kimber insisted. "My sister and were having a civil discussion and—" Her explanation was cut short as Principle Morrison turned his computer monitor for us to see.
The Twins argument had already been uploaded online. I cringed at my guest appearance.
"We're siblings, we fight," Jem laughed, probably trying to lighten the mood.
"Not on school property," he said sternly. Jem's charm wasn't going to work on him. "Maybe I should cancel this fashion parade the cheerleaders want so badly."
"No!" The Twins shouted in unison.
I would've objected as well, but I was drained and wanted to go home. It was only first period. Maybe I could play up my injury and say have a bad headache.
Honestly, Jem's boney elbow to my eye looked worse than it felt. I'd been hit a lot worse, courtesy of an old friend.
"We've been working really hard on the fashion show," Kimber told him with pleading eyes.
"We promise there will be no more fighting from us. We'll be model students," Jem bargained, matching Kimber's puppy dog look.
Principle Morrison eyed the three of us, seeming to be weighing his options. He let out a heavy sigh, clasping his hands together on his desk. "Alright," he agreed. "Since this is your first offense I'll let you off with a warning and a week of detention for you two," he said, pointing to Kimber and Jem. "But one more screw up from you or any of the other cheerleaders and the fashion parade is cancelled."
"Actually, it's called a fashion—"
"Thank you Principle Morrison!" Jem jumped in, cutting off her sister. "We won't let you down."
+ + +
By lunch the swelling around my eye subsided, but that didn't put an end to whispers and laughing. No good deed goes unpunished.
As I put my textbooks back into my locker, I felt a presence beside me. If it was another idiot reenacting "the fight" I was going to elbow someone in the face. But when I looked up I was greeted by the one and only, Miles Hanson.
"I distinctly remember warning you about getting in between The Twins," he recalled, leaning a shoulder against the locker next to mine.
"I was trying to be a good Samaritan," I responded with a light laugh.
"And look where that got you." He stood away from the locker, stepping closer to me and reached down to lift my chin. He examined the nonexistent damage to my eye. My breathing became shallow when our eyes met.
No boys, I reminded myself.
"I'm surprised there's no bruising," he said. His hand shifted from my chin to my cheek, his thumb gently caressed it. Everything else seemed to fade away and all I could focus on were his eyes.
I was waiting for him to snatch his hand away due to being burned by the increased temperature in my face. I'm sure I was a bright red. If I was, he was kind enough not to point it out.
"She barely touched me," I said, trying to silence the swooning girl inside me.
He let his hand drop from my cheek and the crowded hallway of Westbrook High reappeared.
"Uh, I'll catch you later." He flashed me a smile before turning to leave.
Quickly regaining my composure, I shut my locker. As I secured the padlock, the unsettling feeling of being watched hit me. When I looked up I found Vivian a few feet away, a scowl on her face as her eyes shot daggers my way.
That explained why Miles ran off so quickly.
My stare-off with Vivian was interrupted by someone linking their elbow around mine.
"You and Miles, huh?" It was Riley, her copper eyes had a mischievous glint in them as she waited for me to confirm her suspicions.
"No. He and I aren't—He was just asking about my eye," I explained as we started walking.
"Is that all? Because it looked like you two were about to start sucking face," her brows wiggled at me and my face flushed again.
"No, definitely not," I told her. "Besides, he's been claimed."
"You mean Vivian?" She rolled her eyes. "I've known those two since first grade and there has never been a spec of romantic chemistry between them. They always acted like brother and sister."
"Could've fooled me."
"They're just off. They have been since summer ended. Something happened to make Vivian super clingy and Miles bend to her every whim." We reached the cafeteria, going in a standing in the line to get our lunch. "I miss the old Vivian. She was less moody and more fun. You would've actually liked her."
A world where Vivian and I were friends? I found that hard to imagine.
"And you don't know what happened between them?" I questioned, looking over the menu.
"Nope." She shrugged. "Vivian pretty much cut us all off and Miles is a guy, so he pretends that everything is just dandy."
As the lunch line moved forward my mind went into overdrive trying to think of what could've happened over the summer between Vivian and Miles. It came up with nothing that could explain their weird dynamic.
The lunch lady barked at me for holding up the line and pulled me back to reality.