Love and Ambition

21 - Karma's A Bitch

My eyes flutter open and what greets me are Jason's bare shoulder as he holds me tight in his arms. A whiff of his cologne takes my attention and I look down to see that I'm wearing his shirt. I haven't woken up to him beside me in a week and I don't want to go another morning without him.

His eyes open and his smile greets me 'good morning'.

"Breakfast?" I ask him, my stomach grumbling at the thought.

"Mmm, you bet."

We walk down to the cafeteria, hand-in-hand, ignoring the stares that magnetizes on us; whispers that used to send my heart beating out of its cage, now remain still as an untouched pond. I decided to keep Jason's shirt on and tuck it in my skinny jeans, ignoring the rumors about us sleeping together last night.

Slept together? Yes.

Sex? No.

The buzzing noise of the cafeteria fill my ears. I catch a glance of Mr. Monray raising from his seat and approaching me. Ms. Findley, the acting teacher, looks back to where he's going, then searches around the room.

"Brooke, hey," his posture feels rushed as he's halfway leading me out the door. "Outside? For a moment?"

I couldn't get a chance to object, so I follow behind to the entrance hall. A familiar situation falls upon me, remembering the last time Mr. Monray led me outside; the grandiosity of the hall makes it more imminent. My gut turns at the memory.

"So," his s sounds sharp like a pin scratching in my ear, "we took down the pictures. And looked through footage by the bulletin board and we found out who did it."

Sean had been my first suspect, but the more I thought of it, the more improbable it was. He wants to hurt me and keep me in the palm of his hand; posting them would only embarrass me and lose his chance of having me back. Because I would be so disgustingly disrespected in that way, there would be no way of forgiving him—even after all he's done. To him, that would be the pinnacle of losing me completely.

I blink, waiting for Mr. Monray to reveal the perpetrator.

"A punishment has already been brought to the table, but we thought it was unfair to give it right away, so we waited until—"

Mr. Monray is cut off by the cafeteria door creaking open and the sobs of Becca. She catches a glimpse of me, then lowers her head to the floor, her blonde hair flowing behind her as she quickens her pace to leave.

"—until you've decided to press charges."

Press charges. The words came out of his mouth like it was easy. I had never thought of getting the law involved, not even with Sean. I look at the entrance where Becca walked out of and then back at Mr. Monray.

"Was it Rebecca?" I ask, my heart burning.

He nods.

"What was the punishment?"

"Her film will still be put to entry in the Indie Film Festival, but she will be discredited as director and actress. Everyone else will get a chance but her."

I chuckled at that. 

Becca's a bitch and karma's a bitch.

I walk up the stairs, approaching Becca's dorm. Rehearsing what I would say as I walk. As her door is right in front of me, I stop, flushed with nervousness. 

While standing here, debating, I hear her cries quietly seep through the cracks. I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling sorry for her. 

She's a bitch. She deserves what happened to her.

I knock on her door.

A silence, then her door swings open, her eyes glowing red as she sees me. 

"Go away," she slams the door on my face.

"Becca, I just want to talk," I lean against the door.

It creaks open, her face peeping through the small gap. "About what? How you're so much better than me? I know that's what you think."

I sigh. I did.

"No," I swallow hard, not knowing where to start now. "I just want to talk."

She sighs, opening the door further for me to enter. As I walk in, I am bombarded by her walls filled with art and pictures; fairy lights above the complimentary mirror and neon lights in the cornice area; a guitar resting on the side of her bed. 

The pictures, I notice, are mainly of her in different locations and celebrations. Few with her friends and parents. 

This is an artist's room.

"So?" Becca sits on her bed. 

I lean against her dresser, careful to not destroy any precious art pieces. "Why'd you do it?"

She sniffles; wiping her eyes from the earlier tears. "I dunno," she shrugs.

"Did Sean tell you to?"

Her face flickers between emotions, as if she was angry at the mention of his name. "No," she looks at the floor. "I... I can't tell you."

That made me laugh. "Becca, I'm deciding whether or not to press charges for defamation. So you better give me a better reason than 'I don't know'."

Her eyes look at me in panic then averts to her window. "You're all he talks about. Brooke this, Brooke that. He's still in love with you and I hated it," she pulls her knees to her chest. "He still has photos of you. You're still his background picture! Even though I'm his girlfriend!" She pointed at me like she's accusing me of setting myself as his background photo.

"Obviously I've sent him nudes. I have to keep my man satisfied. But he still had you in his folder. You, for fuck's sake! I don't even see why, because I clearly have bigger boobs and ass than you!"

That would have stung, but I rejoiced at the fact that Sean was sad enough to keep me.

"I wanted others' opinions that you weren't that hot, so I posted it. But people still liked you!"

My best friend doesn't, I thought.

"I'm a good person, Brooke, believe me. But you," she's breathing hard as she's trying to collect her tears. "You have only been mean to Sean while he was trying to be nice."

"Nice?!" I finally crack at the assumption. "You thought he was nice when he nearly choked me to death? When he bombarded me with false accusations and obsessed to the point of paranoid jealousy? Do you think that was healthy for me? To be in a relationship so toxic that it broke my soul that I've been trying so hard to fix for years?" 

Her mouth hangs open. "I—"

"Trust me, Becca, you're playing defense on the side of a monster. For all I care, you can stay with him. But just know: even dumb bitches like you will realize the horridness of Sean. If not today, then next year, or in ten years, or when you're deep in your marriage with kids and it's too late to get out.

"You deserve what was coming to you. But I won't press charges. I hope you're smart enough to take it as a lesson."

It was like my heart burst and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. As I leave Becca's room, my lungs fill to the brim like they have never before. I walk through the hallway and down the stairs to go back to Jason.

My feet reach the landing, but the call of my name stops me. I turn around to see Jenn with a stern look on her face. 

"Hey," she walks down to meet me in eye-level. "Can we talk?"