Gaslighter

19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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2021

          I wasn't scared of Ingrid.

          If anything, I was mildly annoyed by the way she thought she held that much power over people—including me—to believe she could just summon me to a washroom whenever she pleased because she didn't feel like attending her lectures like the rest of us common mortals. I couldn't stand feeling inferior to people and it was bad enough when I made myself feel that way; when it was my own friend doing it, it was far much worse. 

          All in all, part of me pitied her. I pitied her thanks to the great lengths she had to go through to get the slightest bit of respect around here. Though I understood why, I failed to see the point in treating me so horribly because of external factors. I was her friend, not her follower or admirer, yet there I was again, bending and breaking whenever she beckoned me to do so, simply because she could, and I needed to prove I was reliable.

          I hated that she was using my insecurities and deepest desires against me, like I hadn't trusted her enough to let her in, to let her know about those things, to believe she would never do that. Whenever she proved me wrong, with every knife she stabbed into my back and cracked my spine in half, I'd pull them out and stuff them back into the knife holder like the protagonist of a horror movie. I'd forgive her, too dependent on her and her approval to do anything else but that, and then we'd find each other in this situation over and over again.

          I was far more at fault for allowing myself to be treated this way and to thrive in these situations, getting so high on the feeling of being needed, of being helpful my head was spinning with the possibility of that plan succeeding. Then, I remembered why I was there.

          "I'm not being a bitch to Sav," I retorted. "Why are you asking me that?"

          She rolled her eyes. "Gee, Penny, I don't know. Must be because you were." She raised her phone, like she thought I was daft to the point of not realizing what she was referring to. "She told me you snapped at her during Steele's class, implied things were a competition between the two of you, and she was just trying to make sure you were okay because you looked like you're about to cry."

          "No, I wasn't."

          "I wish you'd talk to us instead of bottling things up and exploding like that. We're here for you. You know that."

          I raised my chin. "There's nothing going on. I don't know why you're so convinced I have to talk to you over something that doesn't even exist—"

          "Why did you talk to Steele, then? What is it about that guy?"

          My whole body clenched—teeth, fists, jaw, heart. I looked at her, hoping my facial expression had remained as neutral and blank as possible, but everything inside me was sizzling in fury and fear. I couldn't risk saying the wrong thing in his defense and make her suspect anything about the true nature of our relationship—especially considering all the evidence pointing towards her already suspecting there was something amiss—but I couldn't let her diminish his character, either. I didn't think she'd get it if I tried to explain things with half-truths that were close to the truth and I didn't want to deal with her skepticism, but something in the way she looked at me told me this was a test.

          A sick, twisted part of me wanted to beat her at her own game. I wanted to beat her at all for once in my life, show her someone had chosen me instead of her and nothing she could do could change that. I knew exactly how to rile her up, just like she knew exactly how to get under my skin; the same way I couldn't bear disappointing or being invisible to the one person that mattered, she couldn't handle being confronted by the people she wanted to turn invisible so she could shine brighter. I didn't want to burn so brightly I fizzled out in exhaustion, but I still thought Ingrid's view of the world had left her in a particularly lonely position.