-willow tree-

2 sided

The following day at school dawned with a chill in the air, but Adaline felt a nervous energy coursing through her. She had spent the night under the willow tree with Jane, sharing her fears and hopes, but now, faced with the reality of her social situation, she knew she had to put on her mask once again.

As she walked through the crowded hallways, the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter surrounded her, but the warmth of friendship felt distant. Adaline spotted her usual group of friends gathered at their lockers, their animated conversation pulling her in like a magnet. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the performance ahead.

"Hey, where were you last night?" one of her friends, Sarah, asked, her tone light but probing. "We missed you at the party."

"Oh, you know, just hanging out at home," Adaline said with a nonchalant shrug, trying to keep her voice casual. Inside, however, anxiety bubbled. She couldn't let them know where she'd really been.

As the day unfolded, Adaline slipped into her role with surprising ease. She laughed at the jokes her friends made, participated in their gossip, and even engaged in the harmless teasing that had once felt so innocent. But when Jane crossed her path between classes, Adaline felt the familiar tug of guilt. She steeled herself, reminding herself of the necessity of her façade.

"Look who it is," Adaline called out, her voice dripping with mockery. "The loser who thinks she can just hang out with me now." A ripple of laughter erupted from her friends, and the laughter stung like a slap in the face.

Jane's shoulders drooped slightly, her eyes flashing with hurt and disbelief, but Adaline pressed on, feeding off the energy of the crowd. "What are you doing here, Jane? Shouldn't you be with your other 'cool' friends? Oh wait, that's right—you don't have any!" She allowed herself a cruel smile, the kind that felt foreign and yet exhilarating.

Adaline noticed that each biting remark made her friends laugh harder, reinforcing her decision to keep up the act. It was as if every cruel word she uttered solidified her position in the group while simultaneously distancing her from Jane. She was caught in a whirlwind of emotions—guilt, shame, and a strange exhilaration that came with being the center of attention.

Throughout the day, Adaline found herself becoming even meaner, each interaction with Jane feeding into the persona she was crafting. She would throw snide comments over her shoulder, roll her eyes when Jane attempted to engage with any of her classmates, and bask in the laughter that followed. It felt empowering in a twisted way, but deep down, a part of her ached.

During lunch, as she sat surrounded by her friends, Adaline caught a glimpse of Jane sitting alone at a distant table, her head bent low over her food. For a fleeting moment, Adaline felt a pang of remorse, but she quickly buried it beneath layers of bravado. "Who needs her, anyway?" she thought, aligning herself with her friends' laughter once more.

As the day wore on, Adaline became increasingly adept at juggling her two lives—the one she shared with her friends and the secret moments she cherished with Jane under the willow tree. But with each sharp word she directed at Jane, she felt a piece of her own heart fracture, caught between loyalty to her friends and the burgeoning friendship she was trying to nurture in secret.

By the time the final bell rang, Adaline felt drained but strangely triumphant. She had played her part well, solidifying her place among her friends, even if it meant sacrificing her integrity. As she walked out of the school building, she reminded herself of their nightly meetings under the willow tree, a sanctuary from the harsh realities of her daytime life. Yet, the internal struggle was just beginning, and Adaline couldn't shake the feeling that the path she had chosen would lead to consequences she had yet to fully understand.