Vendetta

Chapter Eleven: Catfights and Whatnots

Mia Mitchell knows to throw one hell of a party.

The party was in full swing by the time we arrived and there were half naked people on the roof. And it was only nine.

Rachel was right about Christian and Jared. The party took an even wilder turn with their entry, with almost all of the ladies sidling up to them. Rachel and I got separated in the initial rush, and now none of them were to be seen.

There was a huge makeshift dance floor right in the hall, and dark lighting. I couldn't make out people's faces, but all of them were quite drunk, dancing away to hip songs. I push through the crowd, glaring at one girl as she splashed her vodka on me, and I suddenly spot Rachel in a corner, all alone. I move towards her.

'Hey,' I say, as I reach her. I sit down on an adjacent chair.

Her hands are clutched around a glass which probably contains alcohol and she is staring hard at someone. I follow her line of sight to Jared mauling off a girl's face, his hands on her hips, and her practically on him. I wince.

'I wonder why he doesn't notice me,' says Rachel. Her voice is slow, and her words are sluggish. She must've had too much alcohol.

'It freaking hurts, every single time. And every single time I make myself believe that it is going to be the last one. Every single time, I tell myself that the next day he'll see what is right near him. And every single time, I end up making a fool of myself.'

I watch a tear slip down her eye.

I feel disgusted. I hate people cry, showing the world they are weak. Waterworks annoy the hell out of me, and suddenly I feel the urge to strangle Rachel by the neck.

'Rachel.' She still has her gaze locked on Jared.

'Rach.' I try again, my voice firmer. This time, she lifts her tear streaked face at me.

'Listen to me.' I try my best to ignore the pathways the mascara has made on her cheeks. I lean forward, taking one of her hands in mine.

'Maybe, he isn't the one for you.'

Rachel whimpers, almost shaking off my grip.

'No.' I insist. 'Just think about it. Maybe, you are hurting for someone who doesn't deserve you.'

She raises her eyes to mine.

'You don't think he deserves me?'

I shake my head.

'Just look at him. All he sees is superficial – he goes for the body. He doesn't see that the girl right next to him is beautiful, without a ton of makeup caking her face and plastic surgeries. He doesn't realize she's beautiful, right here.' I point to my heart. 'If he can't realize it, then no. He doesn't deserve you.'

Rachel's eyes stray back to Jared and the girl, who are still defying the nature's rules on requirement of oxygen. I squint at the girl, and I recognize her as Melanie, the drunk girl Christian slept with, the day before she bashed his Mustang into my Maserati.

Yew.

'He still thinks of me as this little girl he's got to protect.' Rachel's voice is a whisper. 'Why is this so hard?'

I breathe through my nose, in and out.

'Look. This is hard, because you want it to be hard.' I gesture to the dancing floor, at the sweaty mess of college students. 'Just let yourself go, Rachel. Don't look back.'

Rachel chews her lip. The dark lights fall on her face, covering it in hues of red and black, and I can't make out her expression.

I wonder if I pushed her too hard.