ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢

Chapter 1: Eliaah

My mom told me never to wear noise-canceling headphones in public, "You're gonna get kidnapped, El. I swear! Do you know your cousin, Ally? You remember what happened?"

"Yeah, yeah, the guy stole her purse-"

"And took her wallet! And used her ID! And-"

"Ok, mom! Ok! I got it."

So with nothing, but my 99¢ store earbuds protecting me from the noise of the LA metro, it's hard to do much of anything productive on the bus. I lean my head back against the window and hug my backpack closer on my lap. The yellow "stop" cord swings lightly above my seat; I stare at it absentmindedly. 

Midterms in December, winter break practically dying waiting for my acceptance letters, finally getting my license, and then finally the first week of April; when the letters get released.

And then college, the vast unknown. I hate thinking about it, I hate the way it divides Julie and me, I hate everything about it. Whoever invented colleges can go die in a fucking hole. But while I hate the giant pillar that college seems to loom over my life at the present, I also am desperate to get there, to see some sort of merit for all the all-nighters and Denny's coffees I've had over these past few years.

I look back up, skimming over the usual list of suspects, buttoned-up employees, the housekeeper ladies "chismeando", and...Sebastian Carter. He looks up, and we make brief eye contact. 

God, I swear he does that shit on purpose. We've ridden the same bus for the past 10 years of our lives, lived blocks away for as long as I remember, gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school, and all of that makes me hate him even more. I've been stuck with his insufferable ass for my whole freaking life and it's been one lifetime too many.

Our history is pretty standard; when we were younger, it was him, Dylan, and I collecting Pokemon cards and watching The Neverending Story. He was always the "coolest" out of all of us. He had "popular" friends and got invited to birthdays. We didn't. When high school rolled around, he saw his way in and he took it and left us behind. And yeah, 3 1/2 is a long time to hate someone just because at 13 they thought you were uncool, but in my defense, he is SUCH an asshole. He's such a pawn. Doing whatever's going to make him popular, talking the way he should talk, dressing the way he should dress. I mean really, if I'm being honest maybe I just hate that he left Dylan and me so easily and then later, when Dylan was gone, left me alone to deal with all of the leftover shit by myself, but I'm not being honest right now.

Julia says I'm jealous of him because-

"- he's just living his fucking life, El. The future isn't everything, maybe you should try to fucking live in the moment or whatever, too."

I have a very full and fulfilling life. Maybe a little too full and fulfilling. There's not much time left after I'm done splitting it up and allotting it to various community service activities and jobs for my apps. 

"School isn't everything Eliaah. College isn't everything." Gigi said to me once, "It's ok to spend time on stupid shit too."

Whatever. I know school isn't everything, and I don't treat it like it is, but I know that it is what's gonna get me out of here, and for that, it's worth it. 

Julie thinks Sebastian represents everything I wish I could have, but I think he's just a reminder of what I can't let myself turn out to be. 

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The bus doors open at the Elm, one away from my stop.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and stand up to grab hold of one of the swinging handlebars above. The floor of the bus sways under my feet lurching forwards at my stop. I zip up my sweatshirt and shove my hands into my pockets, bracing myself against the rush of chilly air as the doors of the bus swing open. I trudge through them, filtering out with almost half of the bus. 

Winter is the only time in LA that's not scalding, and the mornings have been brutal this past week. I've been double-layering every sweatshirt and jacket I have. I lean against the pole next to the bus stop, waiting for Julia. 

Hurry the fuck up, Julie. C'mon man, I check my phone again. 7:36, Julie I'm gonna fucking freeze

I shake my leg trying to recreate some semblance of warmth in my body. Julie's late but not halfway as bad as Gianna. God, she's always so late. I have a picture strip of the three of us on the back of my phone case. We took one of those cute ones in the free photobooth our school rolled in for some dance in Sophmore year. I turn my phone over in my hands looking at the images. In the first one, I'm leaning forward, squinting at the camera with my arm outstretched. Gigi's mouth is open, in the middle of telling me I'm pressing the button wrong probably. I smile. In the second one, Julie's arms are around Gigi and me. We're both leaning into her, pretending to kiss either one of her cheeks. I can't believe these were almost three years ago now. We were such babies! 

I glance up and notice Julie barreling towards me.

She's talking even before she reaches me, "Oh my god, Eliaah. I hate this weather." Julia is always whining about the cold. It's absolutely fucking insufferable, "I'm dying. I'm literally dying El you don't even understand."

I roll my eyes and smile, "Oh shut up. I told you yesterday you should wear another layer today it's getting cold as hell. You're gonna get sick before midterms."

She groans, "Don't remind me."

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Arm and arm, we push open the double doors to the school. The air hits me like a wave of axe body spray and depression. 

"God, it reeks in here." I wrinkle my nose.

Julia digs through her backpack popping a piece of gum in her mouth and handing one to me before pulling out a mini perfume bottle, "spritz?"

"Yes please," she sprays my wrists and I rub them on the sides of my neck, "so much better. Math?"

She shoves the perfume back into her makeup bag and then into her backpack, "Yeah. Meet at lunch?"

"Perfect."

"'kay. Love you!" She blows me a kiss and winks

I roll my eyes but smile at her, "Yeah, yeah I love you too." 

She sticks her tongue out at me and walks away laughing.