His Paper Heart ✓

•13|His LaFerrari

YOU KNOW, SOMETIMES, MEAN GIRLS DON'T COME IN THREE. Sometimes, just sometimes, they come in one.

Emily isn't mean out of malice, or at least that's what Didi says, rather out of an exaggerated sense of narcissism. Didi says that because they're both so civil to each other. Not exactly friends, but civil enough. But my twin sister doesn't know Emily like I do. The girl stuttering down the hallway, causing a sudden freeze to the air and the people all around is horrible. It's like she runs on hot coal and decides to make everyone else suffer since she's hurting.

She's like the devil in Prada, except meaner and the funny thing is, some of the boys she bullies still wish to sleep with her.

Gray comes to a halt with his hands buried in his pockets as he surveys the hallway, narrowing his eyes at all the students who've stopped what they're doing to focus on something more important to them: Emily and Gray.

I know what they're thinking.

"Oh my God, Emily found the hot new student."

"Interesting," Gray mutters.

In Granville, new students are very scarce so I understand the chaos and the excitement bubbling out of Emily since she has found hot meat to sink her devilish fangs into but, Gray isn't new and he's certainly not hers. He's mine. He is my friend. Not Emily's, not Didi's, not anyone's. Mine.

I wince. "Dear God, I sound so possessive right now," I whisper softly.

"Possessive?" Gray asks.

But I'm not wrong. I broke him. I practically tortured him with my irritating personality and ripped the friendship out of him. I stabbed him with a knife and twisted it till he gave me his friendship so I get him.

Right?

"You're turning red," says Gray.

"You have other things to worry about." I shrug. "She's not a good person."

Emily stops in front of us and smiles at Gray in the kind of that never means good things. She takes in Gray's rugged features and exhales deeply, looking satisfied. All the girls practically look at him the same way. Lower lip ticked between teeth, eyes shimmering with lust. But they all don't stand a chance because Emily always gets what she wants.

Emily isn't physically perfect, but she's beautiful. And she's never modest about it. They call such people vain. She's so narcissistic that sometimes, when she's feeling extra proud, she comes to school without makeup.

Some of us do, except Emily brags out.

#nomakeup #iwokeuplikethis.

Then dehumanizes those that wear makeup even though she's the Kim Kardashian of Granville.

"I'm Emily, head of the school's welcoming committee," she says softly.

No she's not.

"And you are?" she asks.

"See, my friend here thinks you're a very evil person," Gray starts as he points to me. Emily's eyes painfully darts off to me then back to Gray. "I can tell by her reddened face and the fumes coming out of her ears and if my friend thinks you're an evil person then I don't think I'm supposed to have a conversation with you."

I giggle, as if in the moment I've forgotten what Emily is capable of. I giggle again, louder and earn a cruel look from the girl as she forces a flagrantly fake smile at me.

"Are you waiting for me to deny I'm the evil witch?" Emily asks. As usual, she's never embarrassed. Never in front of a boy.

"Pro tip for you, newbie. Here in Granville, soft kids either get tough or get beaten. I'm a tough one, and your friend Genevieve here is part of the soft ones that will never get tough. There's something so. . .pathetic about the twin that is born last. And I don't mind stepping on the toes of such feeble characters just to reach the top. Maybe I'm the bully but isn't that how life works?" she says, stretching out each syllable to enchant every boy with her soft voice. "You're either the bully or the bullied," she concludes to glance at me and I immediately look at Gray.