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“And you are mine.”
She follows me into the kitchen, kicking an empty chip bag out of her path. “You two are more alike than you want to admit.”
“We’re nothing alike.” I grab a cloth, wiping down the counter with sharp, angry strokes. “He’s?—”
“Just as fucked up as you are?” Blake starts gathering the wrappers, shoving them into a garbage bag she pulls from under my sink.
“Can we not?”
“Fine.” She cinches the trash bag tight. “But only if you let me make you tea and actually fucking drink it this time.”
“I’m not?—”
She pulls out her phone. “Either you drink and keep it down, or I call Bran Bran right now.”
My fingers form fists. “That’s blackmail.”
“That’s friendship, bitch.” She waves the phone. “Your choice.”
“No lectures about eating?”
“I’m too high to be motivational.”
“Fine.” I open the cupboard. “But I get to choose it.”
“As long as it stays in your stomach, I don’t give a fuck what it is.”
My fingers brush past Earl Grey, English Breakfast, until they find the yellow box tucked in the back. Chamomile.
I fill the kettle, the familiar motions grounding me.
Blake hops onto the counter. “Should we smoke?”
“Oh no.” I almost smile. “Remember when you convinced me it was a good idea to hotbox my bathroom?”
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” She swings her legs, hitting the cabinets with a rhythmic thud. “First time I saw you actually relax.”
The kettle whistles, and steam rises as I pour water over the tea bags, the scent hitting me like the memory of the first time I met Blake.
“I was sixteen, crouched in the school bathroom, cold tiles biting into my knees.
Jason Parker’s words still echo in my head.
Who’d want someone like you? His laugh followed, his friends joining in, their cruel snickers cutting deeper than the words themselves. You’re not even pretty enough to be a pity date.
I wasn’t pretty enough. Thin enough. Enough.
And he was right. I am unlovable. How could anyone love someone like me? Who watched Anne lose everything and said nothing?
Even my parents can barely stand me. Dad looks right through me in meetings, his eyes lighting up only when Mykel enters the room. Mom… well, she made her choice that night in the garage. I’m just collateral damage.
And a person I thought was my friend told Jason about my crush on him, and so I hid in the bathroom.
I thought I was alone, but I wasn’t.
Blake was there. She was everything I wasn’t. Beautiful, confident, and the kind of girl who was destined to be prom queen.
But there was something else, too. A darkness behind her eyes, a sharpness to her smile.