The Blondes of Bel-Air

LILY

I sat in my final class of the day staring at the clock. I knew everyone was looking at me differently now. Even my teachers would look me up and down as I came in to take my seat.

I didn't care.

So what if I wore an old One Direction sweatshirt and jeans that didn't cost two hundred dollars? I kept pulling comfy, well-worn clothes out of the bag Marisela had in the laundry room. The corduroy pants were my favorite, so soft with an elastic waistband. I wore them every day. And they all smelled a little like Marisela (like detergent) and that was the only thing I had calming me down these days, to be honest.

"From my daughter," Marisela had said as she watched me yank sweatshirts and jeans, and sweatpants out of the enormous plastic Hobby Lobby bag. "I was bringing to Goodwill, I was gonna wash first." She stared at me, shaking her head. She probably thought I was insane too.

"That's okay. They don't smell. Well, they don't smell too bad." I unfolded a tee shirt with a Nascar driver on it and sniffed it.

"You want?" Marisela asked, her sweet round face full of confusion.

"Yes! They are so comfortable!" I answered, moving past her with her daughter's old clothes in my arms.

No one knew what I was going through. No one could possibly understand the stress I was under, carrying around a secret like this. My friendship with Gemma was starting to pull at the seams and now this confrontation with Penny in the library had my mind racing non-stop.

Did Penny really know something or was this just another one of her ploys to create enough buzz around her for more camera time? Gemma didn't seem to be worried about it when I ran crying to her after bolting from the library.

What about that talk of Penny speaking to Taylor on the phone? And who was calling Gemma's house saying they were Taylor? My brain ran circles around itself non-stop creating another pulsating migraine.

And to top it off, Taylor started to show up more and more. Not just at night. Now I saw Taylor on the chaise lounge by the pool, dressed in my favorite Chloe one-piece. And there stood Taylor in the kitchen cooking next to Marisela, both grinning like they were in on the same secret.

When I had come down to the kitchen to check on dinner last night, I was surprised to see Taylor alongside Marisela. A small clear vase with a single beautiful rose sat on the marble island in the kitchen.

"Is this from my mother's rose bush?" I motioned toward the pale yellow flower.

Marisela turned away from where Taylor's ghost hovered over the sauté pan on the stove.

"You no put here?" Marisela questioned with a frown. Her thick eyebrows wove together. "This is not from you Miss Lily?"

"I didn't pick this." I ran my finger across one of the large, smooth petals.

"I did." Taylor walked toward me, baring her teeth. "A rose for a Lily. Yellow symbolizes friendship, you know."

"Friendship?" I swallowed. Fear prickled my scalp like needles.

"Friendship, Miss Lily? Who friendship? Me?" Marisela looked around the room as though she had missed something. She, of course, had missed the ghost standing next to her.

"Oh, I... uh, was just remembering that yellow roses symbolize friendship, that's all."

"So you do pick friendship flowers for me?" Marisela's eyes shone with happiness.