Chapter 17

Lana

Senior year was supposed to be my year. I had it all planned out. I would date the hottest guys in the city; I would travel to exotic places on the weekends in my dad's g5. I even made a mood board in 9th grade to keep my morale up when school sucked. It was not going as planned.

Maria, the ever so skillful manipulator, dropped all of the committee responsibilities on my lap just as we got to my house on prom night. I was trying for weeks to avoid this from happening. She had to appoint someone new, and as the granddaughter of one of the main benefactors for the school, she had a lot of pressure on her to make a good choice.

After all, she would probably be eating dinner with Trinity alumni and benefactors until her grandmother kicked the bucket, and I had a feeling that lady would outlive us all.

Maria was good at getting what she wanted. I'll hand it to her. She knew exactly when to do it. My mom was making us pancakes before bed and sat down to eat with us.

She dropped the bomb before I could take my first bite. She knew my mother would push the idea, and she knew that I wouldn't be able to say no once that happened.

She was also right; it would look good on my college application. There were three guaranteed students accepted into Harvard every year from Trinity. It was an agreement the top Ivy's had with our school. The student council president, Sofia, was going to be one for sure. She had her eye on that prize since we were in first grade and the added bonus of her stepfather, who worked in the admissions office. That left two guaranteed spots. Robbie was possibly going to snag one. Although, that might change this year, with how much class he's missing.

Then it was between Lia and me. I thought I lost my chance when she said she would apply for early admission. She would have grabbed it for sure. A minority with a 4.0 on a scholarship and a top athlete? It's Harvard's wet dream. I wanted to apply early, but I needed to add another year of tennis to my application. Abigail really did a number on me when she kicked me out of almost every fucking committee and dance. It was either omit or explain what happened on my common app. How do I explain I had a sex scandal during my sophomore year?

Lucky for me, Lia did not turn in the application. Something about wanting to consider other avenues.

You do that, sister. You do that.

She was my friend, and I loved her. But I wanted that third spot. Plus, sometimes, they gave the fourth spot to a waitlisted student. I couldn't take that chance.

I needed to prove them wrong. Everyone believed I was a mess. I party, sleep around, and know how to get white-girl wasted and shake my ass. I am not the average Harvard contender.

Unless you looked at me on paper. My grades have never fallen below a 4.0, and I missed a perfect score on my SAT by 20 points.

I was given so many answers, tests banks, and opportunities just because they underestimated me. My GPA was my little secret, and everything was set.

Of course, all good things come with a cost; between keeping my GPA up and planning the endless events at trinity, I barely had time to sleep.

I wondered briefly how Robbie did this. Have a job, get straight A's, manage to have perfect skin. He even flew out yesterday to work even more. Maybe he was a Robot.

I was not as lucky. I had two zits and had to put a lot more concealer under my eyes. Also, because apparently, I'm now also a masochist, I agreed to teach Lia how to dance. I hated myself once the words slipped out my mouth. It's not that I don't want to help Lia. It's just my plate is very full. If she would let me, I'd just pay for her tuition and call it a day.

But Abigail had to open her big mouth.

She was so fucking annoying.

I have this expression; I call it getting the boils. When someone irritates you so much, you just feel your skin starts prickling and tickling. Abigail gives me the boils.

It wasn't always like that. We use to be best friends. Then boys happened, and she made everything a competition. She had to be the one who got the most attention, who dated the hottest guys. Her whole entire identity revolved around being desired.

Then Damien happened. I thought she would have let it go when she started dating Robbie. For whatever reason, that nerd is at the top of the list for hot guys at our school.

Like really? He color organizes his underwear. I've seen his drawers.

Anyways while she wasn't the one who took the video, she was still the bitch who told every committee about it.

Now I had to see her all the time since Lia is like that saint we learned about during Wednesday catechism, the one who brings home all the stray dogs.

On Friday mornings, my mom likes to make us pancakes or waffles for breakfast. She says it's to start our weekend early.

My little brother and sister are usually up before I am. They like to watch tv while my mom gets breakfast ready. It's the one meal she cooks; I think it's because it's the only meal she knows how to cook.

"Good morning darling, I'm running a bit late today. Can you help Jessica get your sister ready? She's giving her a hard time with picking shoes that aren't pointe shoes.

"Yeah, sure," I said, placing my bag on the table and walking over to my sister's room. As I rounded the corner, my dad came by, placing his open hand on my face.

"Beep beep wrong way, follow the smell of bacon."

"Dad, my makeup!"

"Oh, sorry," he said and holding his hands up.

It took me and Jessica 10 minutes to get my sister to agree on her uniform shoes. I bribed her with letting her wear some of my lipstick. It would be off her face by the time she finished breakfast anyways.

While Jess finished, I ran back into the dining room, shoved a syrup-soaked pancake in my mouth, and kissed my parents goodbye.

"Kick some ass," my mom yelled as I ran into the open car door my driver held for me.

I needed to study today while on the way to school. Which meant I couldn't drive like I normally liked to.

Except for the scholarship kids and some upper east-siders, all the families at Trinity had a driver. After sophomore year it became embarrassing to use them. 16 meant you could drive your own car, which meant having a nice car to show off. You got brownie points if you had a new one every year or if you manage to convince your parents to buy you a vintage classic.

I liked getting to trinity early. It gave me time to get everything done. That way, after tennis practice, I could run home and beat the rush hour traffic back to Jersey.

When I got to the library, Lia was already sitting down at one of the long tables. I looked at my watch. It was 6:15.

"Morning," I said, sitting down next to her.

"Hey," she said, not looking up from her textbook.

"At what time did you get here?"

"5:30," she said, writing down some notes on a flashcard.

"Umm, what time did you wake up?"

"4 in the morning. Well, three, but I couldn't get back to sleep."

"We hung up at one in the morning. Girl, are you okay?"

"Mhm," she said, looking through her pencil pouch for a highlighter. Her hand was trembling, and her eyes looked puffy.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She looked up from her book and gave me a withering stare. Got it. Dropped.

"Are we practicing after school today?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Can't I have track practice, but I called Abby this morning, and she said she'll practice with you. Then maybe we can get together this weekend?"

I frowned, "Oh, great," I said, not enthused.

She breathed out an exasperated sigh.

"Do you want me to go? Do you need space?" I asked. At first, she shrugged, and then she closed her eyes, "no. stay."

The rest of the morning, I felt like I was sitting next to a ticking bomb. When would it explode? Who knew. When the first bell rang, I never felt happier to get to physics. The rest of the day was pretty standard until rec.

"Okay, Lia, what the fuck happened?"

She brought her knees up to her chest.

"I kissed him."

"Who?"

"Robbie."

My mouth hung open.

"Why?"

"Because I love him."

"Okay," I said slowly, "then date him again. He's obviously into you. Why did you break up with him if you still like him?"

I swear some people like to make life harder than it needs to be. Life is so easy if you just do want and say fuck you to everyone else. As long as you're not hurting anybody. Who cares?

Her throat made a weird noise, and she looked off to the side. "Because I wanted to focus on school."

Liar.

"He's like the biggest nerd; all he does is focus on school."

"We just got too serious too fast."

"That is kind of true, but I'm sure if you told him to relax, he'd do it. The guy would eat glass if you told him to."

"It's more complicated than that," she said, laying her cheek on her knees.

I weighed the risks of prying vs. being supportive. Lia was already shut off as it was.

"I'm sorry, babe," and then I laughed, trying to lighten the mood, "I swear I thought you were going to tell me you made out with Noah Ryans."

She shoved her face into her hands.

"Shut up!" I said in shock," LIA!"

"I know I'm a horrible person."

"Holy shit. I-I am so proud of you."

"What?" She asked, looking up.

"Babe, that is like some legend shit. You know how many girls here spend like the entire year just trying to get one of them to give them attention?"

She groaned into her hands again.

There was the sudden slam of a bathroom stall door. Lia and I whipped our heads up. Her eyes were wide.

Fuck.

I ran towards the locker room exit cutting off a blonde, wide-eyed underclassman.

"Back it up, freshman."

"I'm a sophomore."

"You'll be dead if you say a word about what you heard in this room today."

The girl's eyes widened.

"Phone, let's go," I said, indicating with two fingers that she needed to pull up her phone.

"N-no," The girl stuttered.

I quickly pulled out my phone and snapped a photo of her. "Pull up your phone right now."

With shaking hands, she took out her phone and unlocked it. Just as I thought, her most recent message said: Guys, you will never believe what just happened!

She looked down at her feet caught.

"Text them that you took the biggest dump of your life."

"N-no."

I nodded my head impatiently, "in front of me so I can make sure you send it."

She sighed and started texting her group chat full of gossiping underclassmen.

"Perfect. Now keep your mouth shut, or I will personally make it my project this year to ruin you."

The girl nodded nervously.

"So, what did you hear in the bathroom today?"

"Nothing."

I smiled, "excellent, you're dismissed."

When the girl was gone, I heard Lia sigh, "A bit far, Lana."

"I know her group, they were jerks to Antoine. They like to talk and spread rumors. Just laying down preventative measures."

"Sure. I'm going to go to class," Lia said, standing up and grabbing her bag.

"Lia, don't stress it. Everything always works out in the end. That's how life works. It's like a balance."

"What?"

"That's what my dad always tells me. He's always been right. Homeostasis or whatever."

"Okay," she said, sounding unconvinced.

—-

I waited for Abigail on the benches outside of the dance studio. I was on the phone with my manicurist when I saw her walking with two of her dancers or dance groupies, as Lia liked to call them.

I felt a wave of discomfort. It was one thing to deal with Abigail; it was another to deal with the junior dancers. They tried so hard to impress her it was almost cringeworthy.

When she reached the end of the walkway, she turned to tell them something. The two girls nodded obediently and turned almost synchronized in the opposite direction.

God, it was so creepy.

I finished scheduling my appointment and hung up as Abigail reached my bench.

"Hi," she said, pulling out her key to the dance studio.

"Are your children of the corn going to be joining us?"

"No. They're fixing up the bulletin board. I was just giving them instructions."

"Okay. So, what do you want to do?" I asked, walking in.

"I thought we could go over the basics."

I scoffed, "Really, Abby?"

"I know you know them, but Lia doesn't, and sometimes just because you know them doesn't mean you know how to teach them."

I bit my cheek impatiently.

"Fine. To begin," I said, sitting down on the floor.

"Stretch first," she said, tossing a yoga mat in my direction.

Practice with Abigail was a pain. Sometimes I really believed she just did or said things to purposefully piss me off.

I lay down on the polished wood floor, drinking water at the end of it, and I felt her sit down next to me.

"We can meet next Monday again."

"Abigail...," I started. 

"You wanted to join the team. I was happy taking just Lia."

"Yeah, I don't think so. I wasn't going throw Lia into your wolf den."

She rolled her eyes, "Monday."

"You don't even meet with your regular dancers this much."

"Well, they're caught up," she said, while leaning back on her hands. 

"Abigail, it's the same main dances every year. You're doing this to get under my skin. You know I have a planning committee this year."

Her blue eyes narrowed, "You can drop this whenever you want."

"Why are you like this? You won."

She set her jaw.

"Is this about Damien? We broke up. You can have at him all you want. I don't even know why you're so upset. You wanted Robbie way more, and you're not like this to Lia. You warmed right up to her."

She scoffed and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

"What do you want an apology? Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't know you liked him that much. You literally never said anything. We hooked up with him to get back at Robbie, and you didn't even mention him for a month."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, her blonde hair coming loose in her bun, "It's not about that. I just want to make sure we're prepared."

"Prepared for what? You don't use all of your dancers for your competitions. A quarter of the team sits out every time."

She shook her head.

"Yes. "I said, nodding, "Abby, this is BS. You're doing this to be a jerk over something that happened two years ago. You already took me out of most committees for two years. You really fucked with my chances of going to a good school. My reputation was shit for I don't know how long."

"It's not about that," she snapped, cutting me off.

"Then what? Liam? You had no problem fucking the guy who beat his face to a pulp."

"Just let it go, Lana," I could see her eyes were starting to water, and it just pissed me off. Like what a cry baby. This is what she does with her parents. She sheds a few tears, and they give her what she wants. So fucking spoiled.

"No. This dance team isn't just for Lia. I want to go to a good school. You really messed with that, and this is my chance to make it better."

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and stood up, "I'll see you Monday. Turn the lights off your way out," She said as she left.

I threw my shoe at the door as soon as it closed.