The Marvels

Ep. 22 | Some Broken Friendships Just Can't be Fixed...

The art showcase occupied the entire art room, spilled out into the hallway, and took over half of the cafeteria, which had been sprayed with air freshener to hide the smell of greasy pizza and sweat. Vidya and Amber set up their pieces after school, went home, and went back to school at 7:45, fifteen minutes before the doors opened to let in the attendees. Vidya wouldn't admit it to herself, but for a moment, when she was lying on her bed at home and waiting to get ready...she didn't want to go.

But she was here, dressed up nice, walking alongside Amber to look at their classmates' work. Vidya was smiling, she was doing all the right things—complimenting people, chatting with teachers, accepting compliments—but she felt like her body was on autopilot, and the real Vidya was a ghost floating in the corner, watching the shell pretend to be human.

After a while, they found themselves back in front of their own display. They'd been working on these canvases for months, but they looked at it all with newly proud eyes like they were admiring it for the first time...because they were. Because before tonight, there was only criticism: should they have held back on the green? Added more blue? But now that it was too late to change anything, there was nothing left to feel but pride. Amber was beaming. So was Vidya, just not as much as she should be.

Jonah's hands were on her shoulders. He stood behind her, no doubt smiling. He'd walked with them through the hallway and the art room part of the show, just as supportive and kind as she'd expected him to be. She hoped he couldn't tell that she was losing her mind, that she was still in the mall watching Emily's head explode.

"I have to get going," Jonah said, giving her shoulders a friendly squeeze. "Everything looks amazing."

Vidya tried not to look relieved. "Thanks."

And so her boyfriend—it still felt strange calling him that—left, none the wiser. Her parents had already left, too, because they had to get up early for work and she insisted they go to sleep, and they hadn't noticed anything odd, either. Anything unusual in their daughter tonight was attributed to nerves.

Amber was the only one who knew something was up. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Vidya stared at the pour-painted canvas; it was the last one they made. It was the bubbling, frothy ocean, and in the corner was a sea turtle—it was all placid, serene blue-green, the opposite of how she felt. She felt red.

Vidya shook her head softly. Amber knew about what happened at the mall, but only the public version of it, the fake version where the smoothie employee was shot before the heroes ever got there. Vidya couldn't bring herself to tell the truth, and so she had no way to explain herself now.

"Everything's crazy," she said, her voice quiet and emotionless. "The Marvels are crazy."

Amber's head tilted in pity. "I'm sorry, Vid," she said, sighing. "I suppose this was always bound to happen. No one is ever who we want them to be."

It was the wrong thing to say.

Vidya froze, then turned her head very slowly. "Who's side are you on?" she snapped.

Amber reeled back like she'd been slapped.

Vidya was already full of regret, but it was too late. The words were out of her mouth, and they weren't going back in. She thought she would pass out, maybe throw up, maybe explode, but none of those things happened. She was healthy and alert, forced to deal with the heavy silence she'd caused.

Vidya turned on her heel and walked out of the art room, down the hallway, and out the cafeteria door and into the back parking lot of the school. It was empty because everyone was parked in the side lot. The sky was dark and moonless, and it was raining—only a few stray drops here and there, but it was supposed to be pouring soon.