Liberosis

Beautiful. Funny. Charming. Popular. Smart. Confident. Perfect. Those were all words used to describe Rachel Amber, a sixteen-year-old blonde girl who always wore a thick brown-braided leather bracelet with silver-blue objects and a matching blue feathered earring with a golden pheasant tippet at the top, just her signature objects. But one word people always decided to ignore was adapting. Rachel could see a random group of skaters on the park and instantly make a conversation, even though she'd never skated before but always wanted to. She could see a group of hobos warming up to a fire and act as if she were one of their own, regarding her looks. She could trick you into believing anything, like you no longer had opposable thumbs or that she really cared about the thing you were telling her so passionately about. But that didn't make her fake, right? Just really... crafty.

Maybe the school was just too boring. Blackwell was full of people who wanted to fit in desperately. Rachel fitted in the second she moved to Oregon, Arcadia Bay--being a Cali girl was really attractive, given an instant acceptance card. But maybe she didn't want to fit in. She wished she could just not give a fuck. But no... she just couldn't tell anyone to fuck off, that would be too disrespectful, at least that's what her parents taught her. But she guessed lying was part of their mold--since she was the daughter of the DA, she had to learn how to lie. Act. Pretend. Still not fake, though.

Rachel passed by the Blackwell hallways, a few books on her hands. Her friend Dana Ward was by her side, talking about one of her scenes in the Drama Club. "He cheated on my character multiple times and she's just supposed to forgive him?" Dana ranted.

"That is unsettling," Rachel answered. "But she is in love, you can't blame her for having clouded thinking." Instinctively, she looked at her locker, a few aisles away from hers. Chloe Price's. Her crush's. You could call Rachel confident all you wanted, but she was scared shitless to talk to her.

You see, Chloe Price was a loner ever since her father died two years ago. How did Rachel know that if she hadn't spoken to her or even been in town? She asked around. Chloe's father's death had led her to bad grades, drugs, and alcohol. Chloe just... stopped giving fucks. She burst her punk music--her favorite, don't ask--loudly on the field. She ditched most of her classes, one of the reasons it was impossible to speak to her. And she talked back to all the teachers. Or well, everyone.

How do you talk to someone like that? Someone so wild? Someone who could turn you down in a beat? Someone who has the trait you want?

Rachel realized she'd been staring for a tad too long and placed her books inside her locker, trying to forget about the image of the short-haired strawberry blonde dressed in vegan leather--yes, she also knew Chloe wouldn't hurt an animal in any way. Rachel was really good at reading people, being a fast learner, and maybe... also at stalking them. And trust me, it was hard.

Chloe Price didn't really use social media, she just shared new songs she was into and sometimes liked posts on Miss Arcadia Bay, a forum to discuss events going on the town. Here's a secret: Rachel was Miss Arcadia Bay, but no one would know that. As Miss Arcadia, she could complain. She could say what she really wanted to out loud. Maybe that's why Chloe used it. But Rachel couldn't be like that in real life. Maybe that makes her fake.

"I wish straight girls weren't so dumb," Dana said. She was openly bisexual and so was Rachel, probably one of the reasons Rachel kind of liked her, being able to joke about their sexualities. But Rachel wouldn't tell her about her crush on Chloe, they weren't close enough.

"Me too." Rachel rolled her eyes, even though she didn't feel that annoyed. She hadn't been too invested in this conversation. Rachel closed her locker. "Well, I gotta go to the library. Bi!"