Chapter 4 (✓)

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I stilled. I would recognise that voice from any nightmare. In a single movement I whirled, the motion sending the world off its axis.

Three girls loomed before us, each as plain and bland as the other. The ringleader leered between me and Alia, cruelty glittering in her eyes. Jane.

"I didn't know social outcasts attended parties," Jane drawled, continuing to stare between us. It was as though she were weighing us up in her head, trying to identify the easiest target. She pouted. "I suppose it's what you get with an open invitation. The strays come limping in, bringing that awful smell with them."

My cheeks burned as her cerulean eyes narrowed upon me in particular. Did I really smell? I dug my nails into my palms, fighting the urge to sniff my underarms and check.

Jane's gaze slid to Alia. My stomach clenched.

A deadly silence stilled the air around us, and I could have sworn even the cacophony of music and jeering struggled to penetrate our little bubble of suffocation. Jane continued to rake her gaze over Alia's body, inspecting her like a bug under a microscope. Slowly, painfully, her lips parted into a smirk. "You know... that dress looks a little tight on you."

Alia flinched, as though physically struck. "What do you mean?"

Jane clicked her tongue, looking Alia over. "What I mean is, you always be thinner, look prettier. You only get to your size by eating like a cow."

Alia's cheeks flared. It was no secret my friend was a bit of a bigger girl, but it made her no less beautiful than anyone else. Besides, I didn't know much about it, but she'd hinted at a condition that made weight loss difficult. My blood burned as I recalled days where Alia would forgo eating at all, days that fill me with sick and unease. Who the hell was Jane to pass judgement?

"No," Alia stammered. My heart wrenched I watched her struggle to recover from the blow, her mouth opening and closing several times before she could get the rest out. "It's not... that's not why. It's just a bit tight on me because this was my grandmother's dress..."

Jane's brows shot up in amusement. Alia scrambled to recover. "I... she died last year, and this was left to me. I wear it in memory of her. She had a slimmer frame than mine--"

"I can see that," Jane snipped, her words followed by quiet snickers. I dug my nails deeper into my palms, biting my tongue to the point where it hurt. Don't say anything, I instructed myself. Ignore it. This isn't worth our time. Alia understands that.

Even so, the notion was hard to stand by when I spied the anguish on Alia's face. Her small lips were pulled into a frown, cheeks burning like a stovetop from the humiliation. With her shoulders curved inwards, she looked vulnerable, as though she were trying to close herself off from the world. It reminded me of how a scared cat would slink into the shadows. The image bought a certain pain to my chest, one I had felt far too many times to count.

Bitterly, I turned my attention to Jane. It made sense that she felt the right to jab at others' appearances. With her looks, it was almost a given. She was perfect in every way. Her bow-like lips looked soft even when they were curved into a cruel smile, a match to the pale-blue eyes glittering like glaciers. Her body had all the curves in all the right places, highlighted by her navy satin dress. Her looks alone were enough to make anyone envious -- even her own cronies. 

Noting my stare, she returned her attention to me. Part of me was relieved that her focus was no longer on Alia. Even so, part of me panicked under that gaze, a certain nausea winding knots in my stomach. I didn't feel right. I hadn't felt right for a while now, and the last thing I wanted was to be put on the spot.

"And what happened to you?" She stated, looking me over. Her eyes lingered on the frayed lines of my jacket, and I found myself pulling it tighter around me. 

I'd always taken my mother's advice when it came to these situations -- stay in the background, don't talk back, and peace will come. Usually, that code allowed me to withstand Jane's provocations long enough until she got bored and left me alone. I guess you could say, after much tongue-lashing and humiliation, peace did eventually come.

But now, with temples bleating in pain and ears ringing at a pitch too high to be considered comfortable, my patience was being tested. Hell, I could barely hear my own thoughts over the noise in my head. And without my thoughts, all I could do was feel, and acting off emotions was always dangerous. I prayed for the effects of the bite to wear off sooner or later, or this would end in disaster.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, a hard wave of nausea slammed me. I doubled over with a retch, my vision juddering in and out of focus as I fought to keep upright. The girls sucked in a collective gasp, Jane side-stepping to escape my reach. 

"Ew, don't throw up on me!" she snapped, regarding me as one would regard an extra-terrestrial. I could do nothing as she jabbed my side, sending me staggering to the ground. The world spun, and in that moment I really was going to throw up.

"Stop!" Alia protested, perhaps the greatest display of courage I'd ever seen from her. Jane reared on her, angry. Then, her frown melded into a smirk, and my heart stopped as Jane stepped over and smugly tipped her red wine all down Alia's dress. 

I was in shock. Alia looked to be frozen, too.

"Oops." She gave us a fake pout, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to strangle the girl. Slowly, that pout melted into a grin as she turned to Alia and said, "Send granny my best regards!"

With one last distasteful look my way, she whirled on her heel and strode away, the others snickering in toe.

Silted silence ensued. Suddenly, the music didn't seem so up-beat, and the air felt colder, unwelcoming. Still as a statue, Alia continued to stare at her ruined dress. Despite my fuzzy vision, I could see the damage that had been done. It looked as though someone had stabbed her in the chest, the crimson river stark against the beautiful pastels and whites.

Crystal-bright tears formed in those brown eyes. The sight hurt my heart, and I wanted nothing more than to get up and help her. But I couldn't, and part of me felt I didn't have the right. 

Alia had stood up for me, and I'd done nothing to pay her back. And now her dress was ruined. I wasn't surprised when she whirled around and stormed away.  

"Alia?" I clambered to my feet, the world spinning as a new wave of nausea washed over me. I knew I should be paying more attention to my worrying symptoms, but at that moment, Alia was the only one on my mind. I gagged as I stumbled after my friend, who moved quite dexterously through the crowd. People chuckled in her wake and muttered insults in mine, but I didn't care. 

"Alia!" 

Finally, she stopped, squaring her shoulders before turning to me. I was about to place an unsteady hand on her shoulder when I caught her expression, one that made my stomach churn. 

She was smiling, but not with the friendly smile I'd always seen her wear. Her mouth was drawn impossibly wide, her exposed teeth looking more like a threat than an invitation. Anger roiled in her eyes, and I wished like hell that Jane could have seen that. Maybe she wouldn't have felt so confident in ruining Alia's dress if she had. 

I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, I didn't need to, for Alia got right to the point. 

"I don't get it, Kyra. This was our one night where we could actually go out and enjoy ourselves. But then they ruined it... again!"

Though she tried to hide it, I could hear it all -- the rage, the resentment, the disappointment. She didn't cry, but her wavering voice suggested she was close to it. "I don't get it. What did we do to deserve that? To deserve any of it?"

Her voice raised steadily with every syllable, and people were turning our direction, wondering what the fuss was about. In a moment of desperation I strode up to Alia and gripped her hand. I couldn't handle all these eyes on me. 

"You're right, Alia, we don't deserve it. But it's okay--"

She jerked her hand away, the low fire in her eyes stopping my heart. I always wished Alia would show this fiery side of herself around the others. She kept it tucked away, never daring to show it during confrontation. Only when she was alone did it come to the surface.

"It's not okay, Kyra. They keep getting away with this stuff, and it's not fair..."

Her voice tapered off into a shaky whisper, and when the words failed altogether, she just gestured down to the stain on her dress. I knew what she meant. That dress meant a lot to her; she'd told me so before. Alia had been close to her grandmother before she died, and I could only guess how much it would hurt to have such a valuable ruined. 

But she was right. We didn't deserve it, especially her of all people. But what could we do? Fight back? Wouldn't that only cause more issues? Alia had fought back and look where that got her. 

It seemed she read the thoughts in my eyes. My heart dropped as she shook her head, pushing past me before disappearing into the crowd.

"Alia?" I called. I tried to run. "Alia, wait!" 

It was no use. A new wave of nausea rolled over me and I was forced to stop. A strange pain sliced through me as her dress disappeared into the masses. Guilt? Despair? Betrayal? I wasn't sure, but it hurt a lot more than my head did.

I stood there for a few minutes, not really hearing the jovial voices or up-beat music around me. All I could feel was the knots in my stomach, and the painful pang in my temples.

Finally, I found the strength to walk away. I needed a bathroom. I was going to be sick. 



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