Elle
Aria is sitting in the sunshine, looking like a rain cloud with her watery eyes and puffy hair that’s unusually frazzled like she skipped wearing her satin bonnet overnight. She’s tucked into an alcove at the edge of the beautiful café.
“Aria…” I trail. I don’t know what to do or say. She’d obviously seen the Beaussip article. She must hate me for backstabbing her friend, right? But she’d called out to me when she could’ve let me walk out the door.
“What are you doing here?” I ask tentatively, then I pause, my eyes flickering up to the penthouse, and I swallow. “On your way to see Gant?”
“I live here. In the opposite tower.”
“Right, of course, you do.”
“Are you just leaving Gant’s?” From the tone of her voice, it’s clear she doesn’t believe it. Not with Beaussip’s timing.
“Not exactly.” I don’t elaborate as she eyes my duffel bag that’s a fraction lighter after Rin’s cut. I swear those blue-green eyes can see through the fabric. “Where’s Etienne?” They’re always glued together.
“Out of town visiting his mother.”
I forgot about that.
“That’s nice.”
“Etienne never visits his mother,” she says, smearing more cream cheese onto her bagel. From the looks of it, she doesn’t plan to eat it. She’s just repeating the motion as if on a loop. “We always eat here.” She nods at the counter. “Etienne likes the sesame seeds on the bagels.”
Seems on brand for Etienne.
“I haven’t been since he’s left.”
Is this her opening for us to talk? For me to sit? So she doesn’t hate me for playing her friend? I tentatively slide onto the stool beside her.
“Feeling nostalgic then?” I ask as she grabs another chunk of cream cheese.
“No. My mum and Eli are in town.”
I knew about her mum. Eli must be Etienne’s father.
“They think I’m depressed because Etienne’s gone. So I have to pretend that I’m not. I have to do everything I’d normally do when Etienne’s here. Like come downstairs for late brunch even when all I want to do is die.”
I’d say that’s dramatic, but isn’t that exactly how I feel?
“Why can’t your parents know that you’re depressed?” I ask, watching cream cheese fall onto the table.
“They can know I’m depressed. They just can’t know that it’s over, Etienne.”
“Why is it over, Etienne? Isn’t visiting his mother a good thing?”
“He didn’t leave to have a relationship with his mother. He hates her. He left to get away from me.”
Oh.
“Who could blame him? Everyone’s avoiding me. Even you tried to sneak past the door, the way you sneaked from the bleachers.”
I pale. “You saw me?”
“It all made sense when Beaussip dropped her article. You heard what Gant said to his father, didn’t you?”
“How did you hear it?” Bart and Gant had slipped to the other side of the room near me. “Don’t tell me you’re a mind reader?” I ask, half-joking.
“A lip-reader.”
That made far more sense. “Well, I’m glad I heard him. It was the motivation I needed.”
“Congratulations. I’m glad you got your money. You deserve it.”
I can’t hide my surprise as my eyebrows fly up. “You think so?”
She nods. “I mean that in the most unbitchiest way. Gant deserves the payback. He fucked up majorly with those pointe shoes, and I fucked up by not telling you about it.”
Silence passes between us.
“I didn’t have a right to be that upset with you,” I say finally. “You’re Gant’s friend first. You did what you thought was right. Keeping his secret while trying to ensure that I didn’t get hurt.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not just Gant’s friend, I’m yours too. There are no first places. Friends serve different purposes. It doesn’t make you less or more, just different.”
A shred of hope goes through me. When I cut off Gant, I’d assumed I’d also cut off the friends I made along the way. Suddenly, I don’t feel so alone, so hopeless.
“You said everyone’s upset with you,” I say with a small smile. “I’m not, so I guess that’s not everyone.”
She smiles back, continuing to smear her bagel.
“Why is Etienne mad at you, though?” I can’t help the curiousness creeping over me. In fact, I welcome it as a much-needed distraction.
“I don’t know…” she says softly. “That’s the worst part. Stassi says I’m perfect. I’m not, but I try to be for my parents, for ice skating and for Etienne. I try to be the best siste — ” she stops short, digging into the cream cheese with more vigour, “ relative to him, but lately, nothing I do is enough. I don’t want to lose him, even as my friend, but I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. He used to tell me that I was so good, and now it’s like he hates me.”
“Join the club,” I mutter. “Everyone hates me too. When I go back to Beaulieu, you’ll feel better.”
She crinkles her brow. “Why would I feel better?”
“Everyone will be so busy hating me that you’ll have enough entertainment to push Etienne to the back of your mind.” Sure, I’d got my revenge on Gant, and Beaussip had praised me, but there were an equal amount of hateful comments.
She grimaces. “Then why go back at all?”
“There are only a few months to graduation. No one’s going to stop me from getting that Beaulieu certificate- not the bullying, not Gant Auclair, not even my feet. I endured so much over this break; what’s a few more dumped trays over my head?”
“Or glass in your shoes? That’s serious,” she says firmly.
“I’ll keep my pointe shoes under lock and key.”
She taps her knife in thought. “I’m going to find out who did it.”
“That’s what Gant said… before .” When he pretended to care about me. Love me.
“And I’m going to find out why Zedd’s so mad at me. I mean, I know, but I don’t know. You know?”
I remember the girl in gold at the twins’ birthday bash.
“You’re liaising with that girl you brought to the party. Zedd hates her, I assume?”
Then it clicks! The girl he barked at in the greenhouse.
“But he won’t tell me why. Besides, she’s a tech whiz. She’s helping me hack Beaulieu’s cameras to find out who took those pointe shoes.”
I perk at that. “Anything yet?”
She shakes her head. “So you and Gant are really over?”
“A lot’s happened. Sometimes, there’s no going back. Somethings just can’t be.”
She looks at me inquisitively. “Do you wish you could go back?”
“What’s the use in wishing when you can’t? You understand that better than anyone with Etienne, right?”
“Right.” She nods. “It hurts now, but it’s for the best.”
“The best.” I nod.
“Who…who would want those sorts of relationships anyway? A bully and victim. A stepbrother and stepsister. They’re disgusting.”
“Pathetic.” I nod, and Aria nods back again.
I watch tears slide down her perfect ski-slope nose onto her mushy bagel. Then I take in her perfect hair and perfect face and…nothing is really perfect, is it?
I look around the café. I won't cry here, not with the sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows while the finance bros with briefcases and coffees go about their morning.
Cry for what?
I had money that I could turn into lifelong wealth. I got rid of my tormentor after receiving the best medical care money could buy, and in one night, I’d be returning to my dream school. I got everything I wanted.
Still, my eyes burn as I gaze into the parfait Aria’s set in front of me. Silently, we let tears fall until the food’s wet and soggy and the yoghurt has reverted to watery milk. Then, a thought strikes me that I hadn’t thought of at the moment. A thought, any thought, to distract me from another pity party of pathetic peril.
I hiccup and glance at Aria. “Who’s Zedd’s mortal enemy?”