Learning to be Sister's [discontinued]

Azeala Eight

Azeala liked to think that while she was indeed a bitch, she was at least a fabulous bitch. Maybe she was bitter over what happened between Ana and Ford but she had every right to be. Maybe she wasn't being far to any but it didn't make a difference to Azeala. If Ana wasn't going to be moving in her with or was a person in the school she didn't know that well, Azeala would've been ensuring the death of her reputation. By now, Ana would've had everyone against her before she even had a chance.

But despite what Azeala would like others to think, she was not a completely heartless person. If she was being honest, her mother was one of the reasons that she didn't take her fight with Ana to another level. Azeala wanted to destroy her, sure, she could admit it. Yet, thinking of her mother being disappointed wasn't something Azeala wanted. Not to mention she didn't want to ruin the only good relationship her mother had going for her since her fathers abrupt departure.

Still, Azeala couldn't even think about Ana or her ex without balling her fists together and taking too many deep breaths to keep from punching something or someone. Azeala had talked about Ford a lot — probably too much — and she wondered how Ana could not have made the connection. Had Ana realized and just not cared?

The fact that the girl her long term boyfriend had cheated on her with was right across the hall from Azeala certainly didn't make things better but there was nothing she could do about it. All she knew was, this girl was not her sister and never would be.



Alan sat with an arm slung around Azealas shoulder in the lunchroom. The group around them chattered but Azeala really didn't care about what they were saying. She could only stare at Ford who had the audacity to be sitting with another girl, one different from before, in plain view. Not only that, but the girl was practically wrapped around it.

It sickened her. Made her angry. And even though she wouldn't like to admit it, it hurt her. Hurt her more than she wished it did.

Alan tightened his grip around her shoulders and bent his neck to her ear, "Don't worry about it, you're way more beautiful than her anyway."

Azeala smiled, shaking her head "You sure know how to make a girl smile."

He gave a shrug in his varsity jacket, "One of my specialties."

Azeala rolled her eyes at him, smacking a thin hand to his chest, "Sure and who told you that lie?"

"No one had to tell me, I'm confident in myself."

"A little too confident, if you ask me."

He chuckled and she felt his chest rumble. Azeala closed her eyes and leaned slightly into him, trying to ignore the fact that man she thought she loved — she wasn't sure anymore — was flaunting his relationship in front of her face. As if she meant so little to him.

Like she meant nothing at all.

Opening her eyes, Azeala straightened and plastered a fake smile on her face. She tucked a strand of her honey blonde hair behind her ear and got up, looking around the table and mumbling an excuse.

Alan tried to catch her hand but she shook her head, walking towards the big doors at the end of the lunchroom and opening them. She gave one last glance and felt her lips quirk into a small, as she saw the small brace around Alans nose. He had acted as if it was no big deal and she wasn't sure if it was, considering the fact he had probably broken some other things in football.

Still, the small gesture had meant a lot to her.

Azeala turned back around and walked into the hall. Her eyes stung and she knew she was on the verge of crying but she couldn't allow herself to. All she could do was hold the tears in, even as they blurred her vision and made her unable to make out what was around her.

She knew the hallways were empty and no one could see her but even the thought of her breaking down and being seen made her straighten up and blink the tears away from her eyes. She couldn't not break. Couldn't not fall. Could not show a crack in the armor she had carefully built.

With a deep breath, she quickened her speed and straightened her head, plastering her infamous smirk on her face. She tossed her hair over a shoulder and walked to the bathroom, opening it and walking towards the mirror.

Azeala opened her purse and pulled out her make up kit, using her make up remover to take out the eyeliner that had smudged and reapply it. Then she curled her lashes and did her sharp red lip stick over again. The rest of her make up had remained in tact.

It was only when she was putting it away and zipping up her purse that she realized someone had been in one of the stalls. Azeala looked into the mirror and her eyes clashed with Anas.

Well, shit. Didn't Azeala have the best luck?