Welcome to Law School 101

2. Barbies and plastic goo.

"One of the sanest, surest and most generous joys of life comes from being happy over the good fortune of others."

Song ~ Lovely by Billie Eilish ft. DJ Khaled

§

"You suck!!" A shrill voice disrupts my void of peace. Dragging my eyes, oh so slowly- to show my enthusiasm, of course- from the pages of my book that described to the most insignificant detail about Acteus Rea and Mens Rea, my eyes meet a pair of green ones.

Aelin Lancaster.

Curly blonde hair, emerald eyes, 7 ounces of makeup, always had a lip gloss in her purse, strolled in the halls of Harvard Law School in her 19-inch heels, you get it.

"Yes, honey. And you swallow." I retort and flip the pages of my book, my voice filled with fake sweetness. For an ephemeral second, no one says anything and I hold my gaze with Aelin as she tried to comprehend what I said.

I rest back on the chair of the school library and crossed my arms. Silently, I dare her to reply back.

The other girl's green eyes fill with rage. "You bitch!" She yells at me. Seriously? That? The most uncreative insult out of the 171,476 in the Oxford dictionary?

Honestly, if she spent as much time into a book than perfecting her goddamn eyebrows- that were probably non-existent - she'd seriously get valedictorian.

I look into Aelin's scintillating orbs and, for barely a millisecond, I see a different person. The way she holds herself definitely had resentment there, but her eyes also show glimpses of an emotion I couldn't identify.

I huff air out and roll my eyes. I had only a few damns to give throughout the day, and I couldn't waste them all here.

Sliding my books into my bag fluidly, I shrug at her with my hand on the curve of my floral dress. "Being a bitch is a tough job, but someone's got to do it." With that, I whirl on my heels and walk in the other direction.

And I could have sworn I felt her rage rippling off her in waves.

For some reason, that just widens my grin.

§

"Oh hey, Damon!" I wave enthusiastically at the boy who'd just entered. "Hey, Thea." A deep voice replies and Damon grins at me. The stars must have aligned because he was actually wearing a colour other than grey, black or white.

A casual blue tee and black jeans, tousled hair across his forehead; I sort of see why Scarlett loves him. Apart from the sentimental crap, anyways. That I'd never listen to without nearly throwing up.

Damon seats himself comfortably across me on the sofa, making the leather dip so low, it nearly topples me over. I glare at him and he chuckles before splaying his legs over mine with a smug smirk.

That bloody twit.

"Wher-"
"In the bathroom"
"Wh-"
"Taking a bath"
"Whe-"
"Thirty minutes."

Now it was his turn to glare and my turn to innocently smile. I hum and go through the magazine on my lap all about the latest concealer or what to do to have 1-inch waists, yadda, yadda.

"What've you got there?" He inquires curiously and reached out to grab the book in front of me.

Oh, no. Not today, Carl Dugasian.

The move ultimately ended up with him groaning at my signature thigh jab- which was very painful, mind you- and me laughing. "You're so violent, Thea!" Damon whines, clutching his leg and I roll my eyes.

Sadly, Scarlett comes out of her room with a lavender towel wrapped around her hair in a pair of jeans and a faded gamer tee; disrupting my whole plan of chopping her boyfriend to itty-bitty pieces and tossing them into the Pacific.

"Hey," Scarlett's eyes immediately light up and it's like they're the only people in the room.

Don't get me wrong, I am happy that my whacko best friend got someone worthy enough of her —Damon would've been dead meat if not. Still, sometimes I couldn't help feeling like the third wheel.

Though, I'd never tell Scarlett that.

I heave myself off the couch and saunter towards my room. In the background, I hear Damon whispering and Scarlett giggling, probably at one of his stupid jokes.

My heart clenches and I nearly stop mid-step to catch my breath. For a seeming second, I am overwhelmed by the memories that flash in front of my eyes. Dully, I hear my pulse quicken and moisture prick my eyes.

No.

NO.

Gritting my teeth, I shake my head furiously. I clench my fingers till the pain snaps me out of reverie. Closing the door gently took a lot from my shaking self. I crouch near the foot of my bed and wrap my arms around my knees, shuddering violently.

She was happy. She was happy.

That would have to be enough.

And it was. Scarlett deserved so much better than me, anyway.

Everyone did.

All it took was one tear. One tear that broke the walls I'd built, day after day by disregarding my feelings; reverently hoping that one day, they'd never return.

Feelings make you vulnerable.

Vulnerable enough to be broken into unrepairable pieces.

I curve forward, where I sit on the mat and nearly crush the heels of my palms over my mouth; to somehow suppress the horrible, gut-wrenching sobs that wreck my frame with the force of a pent-up whirlpool of emotions.

§

"Where are you going?" Scarlett demands incredulously, as she sees me slip on my sandals, and I didn't blame her. I probably did look like I was going on a date. Which, as far as humanity and Scarlett were concerned, never went together in a positive a sentence.

They both were now looking—staring, more like—at me as if I'd just announced that I was allergic to pizza. I slipped the keys in my pocket and reached up to adjust my hair that had fallen on my face. Changing my decision quickly, I leave them be and smooth them down. It probably bordered my face, if that was what they called it.

Now the couple was definitely staring at me with saucer-wide eyes.

I'd nearly lost count how many times Scarlett groaned at my fashion sense. What was wrong with these people? Once I wore something different and I got this.

Well, maybe that was the problem, a smart voice in my head remarks.

What?" I snap at them, my voice a notch harsher than I intended it to be; and they blink out of it, wincing at my tone slightly.

But I noticed it. Of course, I did.

"I'm going to commit a heinous crime, suicide or for ice cream," I answer, less brutally. My phone signalled a message, and I wave at the duo. "I'll decide in the car," I add casually, suppressing a grin at their bewildered expressions.

When I'm about to close the door, I hear Scarlett's soft voice, murmuring to Damon, "I hope she'll be okay, Damon. I really do."

That makes the two of us. I sigh.

Pressing the accelerator as firmly as I could, I lower my eyelids for barely a moment and see the bright brilliance of the light on the back of my eyes.

Breathing the cool, evening air in, I bask in the warmth and savour the feeling of the sun hitting my skin; the gentle caress of the wind on my cheeks for one last time, before everything probably goes to hell.

§

Hello peoples!
How was it? Let me know in the comments!
Cover credits to my friend who is going through her 'obsessed-with-making-covers' phase Divyasgn Keep 'em coming!

Comment | Vote | Share

💃🏻
Prapti