Page 16
Story: The Devil Wears Tartan
I tell myself to play it cool, to rein it in, but I still lean forward and jerk my chin down in a nod like I’m waiting for a starting gun.
“Yes,” I answer, just a touch too forcefully, at the exact same time Moira says the exact same thing.
The corner of my mouth lifts just a fraction of an inch, and the heat that’s been blazing like hot coals under my skin sparks and pops before bursting into leaping flames.
I’m not going to let her get to me, but damn will it feel good to beat her.
CHAPTER 5
MOIRA
Kenzie is late.
I’ve almost finished the iced coffee I went ahead and ordered when she let me know she was running behind schedule. That was twenty minutes ago, and I haven’t heard anything since.
I consider getting another drink even though the caffeine will have me up until three in the morning at this point in the evening. The Starbucks I’m waiting in is mostly empty, and if it weren’t for the coffee, I’m sure the warm glow of the bulb lights overhead and the soothing folk playlist drifting through the speakers would have me nodding off.
I have yet to adjust to life as a university student who also spends most nights working as a dance teacher. I stay up too late and wake up too early, then spend the weekends crashing and getting my sleep schedule even more out of sorts before doing it all over again.
I don’t know how other people fit a social life into their schedules too. It’s the start of October, and the only thing I’ve done besides go to school and go to the studio is have a couple quick tea dates with Lydia, during which we studied.
I’m not counting this scholarship prep session with my mortal enemy as a social event. That sounds far too sad and desperate.
Desperate.
That was a word Savannah used for me, specifically in the phrase ‘you’re so desperate for validation you make keeping people happy your entire identity.’
I know that’s not my entire identity, but hearing it from the girl I moved continents for after only a few months of dating was not a point in my favor.
Like my mum tried to patiently point out despite me refusing to hear it, I wasn’t all that into South Africa and had zero plans to give up on university and do a twelve month volunteer program in Johannesburg before I fell for a girl already doing that.
Furthermore, I wouldn’t have even been in South Africa to begin with if I hadn’t tagged along on Lydia’s gap year after she begged me to be her travel buddy, because hey, maybe I needed her validation too.
I would have been here, in Ottawa, working for my parents’ dance school like I have for half my life despite them urging me to dream big and take on the world. I would have been happily living out the same schedule week after week, being the boring person Savannah discovered I am and decided to cheat on as soon as she did.
“That is not trueeee,” I mumble to myself after slurping up the last of my coffee. The remaining ice cubes clatter around in the plastic cup.
Not true.
Not true.
Not true.
I do therapy exercises. I journal. I write affirmations on post-it notes and stick them to my mirror, but in the end, that’s what it comes down to: hearing someone else’s words about me and being strong enough to believe they aren’t true.
It’s been months, and I’m still not there yet.
Beyond the satisfaction of beating Kenzie, I’ve realized the battle to beat my own thoughts has drawn me into this scholarship too. If I can win—if I can do something completely for myself, completely by myself—then maybe I won’t feel so damn boring compared to everyone else I know.
“Hey.”
The sound of footsteps approaching pulls me off the ‘woe is me’ train of thought. Kenzie appears in front of the pair of armchairs and low, round table I’ve claimed as my lurking spot.
“Hey.”
For a moment, that’s all I can say. I’m too busy processing how good she looks.
It doesn’t matter how annoyed I am about her being late, or how annoyed I am about her in general. When she pops up out of nowhere like this, my brain can’t arm itself with irritation fast enough to stop me from appreciating how goddamn gorgeous she is.
Table of Contents
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- Page 16 (Reading here)
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