𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 | The Girl Behind The Act

Chapter 11

Ariana

I can't believe I got rejected today for the first time in my life. Seriously, it's hard to wrap my head around it.

Me? The girl that all the guys want and the girls are jealous of at school!

But then reality hits.

Tristan is not like the rest. He's different and won't give in to me easily.

I wonder, if I was just myself and not trying so hard, would he still ignore me like this or actually like me?

Letting out a sigh, I look up at the sky in the parking lot, ready to head home. Cheerleading practice was a disaster today, my mind consumed by what happened at the cafeteria.

Everyone in school is feasting on the latest gossip about my rejection by the new quarterback in front of everyone.

I hurry to my car, jump in, and shut the door. Sighing deeply, I rest my head on the steering wheel and let out a soft groan.

What's wrong with me?

This isn't how I pictured things with Tristan.

Maybe girls like me deserve this treatment. Do we? I finally realize now that the "IT" girls in romance novels and romcom movies often don't end up with the guys they want. They're labeled as the mean girls or bitchy Queen Bees.

Maybe I deserve this.

Driving home, I reflect on what life would be like if I hadn't changed myself in freshman year. I would probably just be a normal girl who loves dancing and spend more time hanging out in the library.

Instead of cheerleading, I could've done gymnastics. Instead of being popular, I could've been one of the nerds. Instead of casual hookups, I could actually get a real boyfriend.

Everything could be different if I didn't try so hard to fit in.

I pull into the driveway, toss the keys to our butler, and head inside. A woman's cry echoes from the living room, making me curious.

Walking in, shock seizes me. It's the woman who left us 8 years ago, the one I stopped calling Mom. She's back, probably because Dad's rich now. A gold digger who won't be part of my life.

They look at me, and Dad stands up with tears in his eyes.

"There's someone here to see you," he chokes out.

She wipes her tears, smiling at me. "Ari baby, you've grown so much. I missed you."

I can't hug her. Not after what she did. She holds my face, and I fight the urge to pull away.

"Ari, I've wanted to see you for years. You've become a beautiful girl, just like I knew."

"How much?" I interrupt. "How much money to leave us alone?"

She's taken aback, seeking help from Dad. He scolds me for disrespecting her, but I don't care.

"Why are you here, Stacy? You left us. You didn't call or care. Now you're back?"

"Ari-

"No Dad-" I cut him off. "It's been a long day and I'm exhausted. I don't need this right now."

I storm out of the house, running away, away from it all. I end up in a park, sobbing on a bench, the weight of my day finally crashing down.

I don't care if anyone sees. I just want everything to stop. I wish I had a time machine so I could rewind certain moments in my life.

Tristan

"Thanks for walking me home, Tristan," Jenny said, her sweet smile lighting up my mood for reasons I couldn't quite explain.

"You're welcome. So, I'll see you at school tomorrow?" I asked, noticing Jenny's blush as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, see you at school tomorrow. Bye, Tristan."

"Bye, Jenny." She turned to leave but then halted, flashing me a shy smile. She took a step closer, planting a kiss on my cheek that sent a warm flush through my face.

"Goodnight," she whispered before dashing up the steps to her house and shutting the door behind her.

I grinned, watching her go, before turning and retracing my steps, my thoughts consumed by Jenny.

How do I stop comparing her to Abby?

But I've come to realize they're kinda the same, and that's a good thing. Jenny's gentle, sweet, and prefers to take things slow.

It's precisely what I admire in a girl. Then there's someone else, someone who barged into my life, stirring up emotions I'd buried for a while.

It's like a fire, an unquenchable desire. She's feisty, boldly straightforward, unstoppable. She knows what she wants and charges ahead relentlessly.

These are the kinds of girls that awaken my rebellious side, making me want to stir up trouble just for them. It's exhilarating, yet problematic. That's the old me, a life I'm not keen on resurrecting here.

I shook off the thoughts and kept walking until I reached my street. I passed by the creepy park that Josh warned me about. It's quiet and often deserted—I've seen most homeless people sleep around there
.

A sound came from the bench-lined area of the park. I stopped, scanning my surroundings. Despite the fading light, I made out a lone figure in the middle of the empty park. A girl, from the looks of it.

She seemed to be crying, her head cradled in her hands resting on her knees. She was utterly alone, seemingly unaware of any potential danger lurking nearby.

An urge to approach her surged within me, offering comfort or a walk home. I stepped forward, drawn to her vulnerability. As I got closer, her cheerleading outfit caught my eye—she goes to my school.

I wasn't aware that there was a cheerleader from school who lived in this area. Even after recently moving in with James and Josh, I was already familiar with most of the people in the neighborhood.

She glanced up, her gaze inadvertently turning in my direction.

Ariana.

I instinctively veered behind a tree, peering out to observe her. She was crying again, and I felt a pang of empathy.

She sobbed, her hands tangled in her hair. Her eyes were red and swollen from incessant crying. This was the first time I'd seen her like this.

I had always thought the popular, headstrong cheerleader would never break down, never show vulnerability. Yet, here she was, a different person from the one I knew.

The confident head cheerleader had transformed into someone fragile, about to shatter. For a moment, as I watched from a distance, I was taken aback by this side of her.

It was unexpected, and it made me wonder—this was the second time I'd seen her in such a stark contrast to her school persona.

Is she hiding something?

She either was, or she was a master at acting. Regardless, I was intrigued. Annoyed as she often made me, I felt an urge to uncover the reason behind her vulnerability when alone and her façade at school.

A popular, head cheerleader from Sterling High having a meltdown in a random park, a professional dancer in an empty theater.

Something was definitely weird with Ariana Blake. As much as I disliked the idea, I was determined to learn her story, to figure out the truth about the girl behind the act.