Cookie

4

I go to the soccer field and slip under the benches, finding my secret spot, hoping to enjoy the last 20 minutes of my break in peace. I still can't process what just happened. Why would that guy apologize to me? And why did Liam assume I was a bitch when he doesn't even know me? His words upset me more than I care to admit, and, honestly, I’m terrified about having slapped him. I’ve never hit anyone before—never even when people said far worse things to me. But somehow, hearing him talk like that made me angrier than I’ve ever felt.

No one at this college, or in this town for that matter, really knows me. All they know is that I'm the girl whose sister died in a car accident. That’s it. They don’t know what I like, what I hate, my fears, my dreams… They don’t know me, but they judge me based on what Tiffany tells them.

My parents told me to live my life, like it was that simple. But how am I supposed to do that? My whole existence has been shared with Criss. Every decision I ever made was something I ran past her first. I’ve never lived for myself. And now that she's gone, it feels like I never did. It’s like Criss and I lived the same life, and I don’t know what it feels like to live on my own. I want more friends, like Mary. Friends who’ll listen to me, bring me coffee with milk and no sugar—because she knows that’s how I drink it—buy me fantasy books, and talk for hours about them. Friends who’ll take me out, not to get drunk or party, but to walk in the park, go hiking, or even just play video games. But where would I find more people like Mary?

How am I supposed to move on and start living for myself? Where do I even begin?

The bell rings, and I wipe my tears, heading to my next class—literature. It’s one of the few classes I have with Mary, and I take a deep breath before plastering on a fake smile, not wanting her to know that I’ve been crying. The seat next to her is empty, waiting for me, and I walk over to our table with a smile, though she examines me closely.

“You were crying,” she says simply, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “Are you okay, twinkle? I swear, one of these days I’ll kill that Tiffany bitch.”

I smile at the nickname she gave me years ago. Back in primary school, Criss and I wore princess dresses covered in sparkles—definitely not our idea, but our mom thought it would be cute for our first day. That’s when Mary started calling me Twinkle and Criss Sparkle. From that day on, we became inseparable.

“I’m okay, Mary. Don’t worry about it,” I say, brushing it off. “I’m used to stuff like this. It’s just that I talked to my parents this morning, and it made me think...”

She watches me closely, waiting for more. Without hesitation, I spill my thoughts to her, as I always do. She knows me better than anyone else.

“They told me to move on and start living, have fun, you know?” I say, and she nods. “But I don’t know how to do that without Criss. I miss her. I feel like a lost puppy without her, Mary…”

A tear escapes, and I quickly shut my eyes to prevent any more from following. I learned long ago that once I start crying in class, it’s hard to stop. She lifts my head, making me meet her gaze, and I’m relieved to see there’s no pity in her eyes—just determination.

“You’re not a lost puppy, Nataly. And you have to stop acting like you are. Look, when Criss was alive, you shared everything with her—her hobbies were your hobbies, her friends were your friends, her clothes were your clothes. It’s time to think about your own hobbies, to make your own friends, and go to places you want to go.”

“I don’t know how…” I admit, feeling pathetic. At 18 years old, I have no idea how to be myself. What do I even like to do? How do I start living my own life? I’ve always been in Criss’s shadow, and I was okay with that. But stepping into the light is harder than it sounds.