Have you ever experienced that emotion that feels like a ball of thorns in your chest, so painful it makes you want to choke? Has it ever been accompanied by so much annoyance that you’re sure any second now you’re going to combust. Bitterness makes my jaw tight.I’m trying really, really hard not to notice the public display of affection going on between Jennifer Rooney and Ben, but they’re making it so damn obvious, I have to check the class again to make sure they’re not performing for a camera I can’t see.Ben whispers something into her ears and she giggles, slapping his chest lightly and cooing. She fucking cooed. I think I just puked a little in the back of my throat.Death, I’m ready, just take me.A few seats over, Bibah mirrors my look of pure disgust.I really wish we were sitting next to each other right now, but Mate 101 requires students to sit with their mates, so next to Bibah is Akio. They make a really cute pair, and Akio seems to be in heaven, contented with staring
The cafeteria is bustling with activity today. Most of the students cramming the large space aren't here to eat, but to gossip and chat with their friends, introduce their mates, and swap stories about how the mate night party went for them.Opposite me, Bibah and Akio are having a childish argument on something that has to do with ancient depictions of the color spectrum. Now and then, Akio would try to sneak a croissant from the delicacies laid out on the table thanks to Bibah’s baking skills, and I’d do my best to smack his hand away.Despite that, I’m not really paying attention to the present.I haven't been paying attention to the present for the past hour since we passed the two truths and a lie exercise in Mate 101. William’s last statement; his last truth, had invaded my mind like a parasite. I’m obsessive. What belongs to me stays mine. He had said it with such conviction, such grimness that I couldn’t decide if when my heart skipped a beat, it had been out of fear or fancy.
It’s interesting the kinds of secrets we keep, the hypothesized shadow self we hide from the world, and the nature of the skeletons we hide in our closets. Some secrets -some skeletons, are nothing but dust, some are rotten, with the flesh still clinging to the bones, and some sit in the shadow of their secrecy, sharing the darkness with ghosts of what they once was.Secrets points to us where our shame lies, and makes us understand the shame of others. I believe that nobody in this world is truly an open book. You might meet people that seem like an open book, but have burnt pages. You might meet people that seem like an open book, but written in a language only they can understand. We all have our secrets, we all have our shame; some more disturbing than others.I zoom in again on the files Wilma sent me.I’m pretty sure my sister’s stalking skills rivals that of the FBI, the CIA, and the KGB combined.This is solid proof. Screenshots of chats, blurred photographs of them caught in
I drop my backpack on my bed and sigh. It had felt like a good idea to come back to my dorm room and ditch the rest of the classes that I had for the day, so I could finish up on my assignments, but now that I’m here, I feel completely drained.“Don’t crawl into bed, don’t crawl into bed, don’t crawl into bed…” I mutter to myself like a mantra even as I pulled the blankets and prepared to dive headfirst into the pillows.My ringtone stops me.What perfect timing.I groan and yank open the zipper of my bag, rummaging through the books and makeup to pull out my phone. The picture of my mom doing the fish-pout selfie pose pops on my screen like a jump-scare. It’s uncanny how much Wilma is an exact replica of her. I tap the answer button, knowing it’s either answering right now or getting a thousand missed calls and an earful later.“Hi mo-““Bella, You missed my Skype!” My mom’s sharp voice stabs at my ears. “I skyped you this morning!”“I was in class, mom.” I reply, running a hand thro
I slip into a sour mood for the rest of the day, and the following morning too. My thoughts kept moving in circles and I felt enraged that I had let someone hold this much power over me. I shouldn’t have asked. But I had a right to know. Bullshit. It’s all his fault. But if I hadn’t asked…I tilt my black beret to the left, then to the left, then centered it, and still felt no satisfaction with the way it fits on my head.I huff and yank it off.It takes no introspective genius like myself to know that I’m wasting time so I get to class as late as I’m allowed to. I had no desire to face the rest of the school, or my classmates, or William, or anyone in particular, so I’d channeled my energy into getting ready.Or maybe I’m trying to put more effort into the way I look today because William Ravenstone had upped the ante yesterday.“It’s all his fault.” I mutter under my breath, shoving the tube of red lipstick into my backpack and zipping it up.I shift my attention to my reflection be
“Are you sure you’ve packed enough jeans in there?” I ask Wilma, zipping up the black luggage and rushing over to my backpack to stuff the computer charger inside. I’d somehow fallen asleep while planning what to pack with Bibah and Wilma last night, and none of them thought of waking me up until this morning, an hour before the bus leaves. I can’t believe I’d slept for that long. I must've been really tired. “You should’ve just woken me up.” I say to Wilma again, combing my hair back and shrugging on a jean jacket. Despite my panic and annoyance at waking up late, excitement still bubbles within me. I’ll get to see Acadia City today, and for the next five days to come! “Yes, I’ve packed enough jeans. You had already made a list, so I just followed it.” Wilma replies, handing me the paper I’ve scribbled all the things I wanted to pack last night. “And you seemed tired so Bibah told me to let you rest.” She adds as I go through the list, making sure she’d ticked everything, and I had
“Isabella, that’s cheating.”“No dad, it’s strategy.”We’re in the alpha’s office, on that familiar mahogany chess table, the black and white pieces in a dance of tactical defense and brute attack.My father smiles, his chipped tooth glinting in the too bright light of the room like a gemstone. His hair is so ginger, so fiery it looks like his head is glowing, about to catch on fire. “It’s against the rules.” He chides playfully, returning my rook back to it’s original position.“My rook got injected with the Super Soldier Serum and now he has the same powers as all the other pieces combined.” I explain, moving it back diagonally to checkmate his king.He laughs; the sound echoing into the walls like everything around us is trying to soak it in. “Well, that’s justified.” He agrees, shrugging.“Wilma is not here.” I notice, looking to the empty chair on my left. “We always play chess with her.”My dad shakes his head, his smile suddenly turning sullen, and the sunlight dims. “No, it’s
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I pull out another skimpy shirt; more lingerie than t-shirt. “Fuck…” I whisper to myself, frantically going through the rest of the clothes in my luggage. Where are the comfortable jeans? The pajamas that don’t make me look like a stripper? The normal oversized t-shirts? There’s nothing in here but the skimpiest items of clothing that I own; some of them ones that I hadn't even worn before. Oh that little devil. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her when she offered to help me pack. I should've checked the damn luggage. I should've done the packing myself. I should've seen through her false angelic smile. “You’re dead meat, Wilma.” I mutter to myself, balling fistfuls of the scarlet chemise in my hands. “Just wait until I get back. Je vais te tuer.” And if I had been paired with Evin in the room, it wouldn't have been much of a problem to wear the skimpy nightgowns, but it’s William for heavens sake. I bury my face in the pillow, thinking of what to d