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“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Trying to be cool, I guess. It’s not every day the second most powerful bitch at Crimson deems me worthy of attention.”
“Ouch,” I said and took the cigarette. I held it to my lips and leaned over as she flicked her lighter and brought the flame to the tip. I inhaled, held it for a moment, and felt the chemical bliss flood my bloodstream. “That hurt,” I continued as I exhaled a long stream of perfect white smoke.
“What part? The bitch?” she asked with a crooked grin.
“The second more powerful part,” I chuckled. “I hate thinking I’m not first in anything.”
“Fair enough,” she laughed and snorted, then coughed as the smoke hit her the wrong way.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, taking another drag. It hurt my lungs, a burning, piercing sensation, but my body craved how they made me feel.
“Harlow Colby,” she replied and nodded in my direction. “Of course, I know you, Willow Avalon.”
“Of course you do,” I replied and took a long drag again as the burning in my lungs retreated. Then, finally, I exhaled and watched the smoke curl around my head, clinging to me like a jealous lover before it was swept away by a gust of wind. “What did you think I was like, anyhow? I mean, last year, what was your opinion of me?”
“It’s a trap,” she said in a monotone voice torn from a Star Wars scene. We giggled together at it.
“I swear it’s not,” I said. “I’m having trouble—”
I didn’t want to admit it. I was afraid if I let her know that in place of my life, my memory, I have a gigantic black void, then it would become too real.
“Remembering?” she asked. “I can kinda tell. You don’t seem like you.”
“What am I usually like?”
“Bitchy,” she said. All humor was gone from her pretty face. “Arrogant. Superior. Cruel. Like your friend Victoria, only meaner somehow because you had something to prove.”
“I don’t feel like that anymore,” I said and took another drag. “I don’t know how I feel, but I don’t think I’d like the person I was.”
“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone,” she said and held up her cigarettes. “These could get me expelled.”
“I’d get the boot along with you,” I said, finishing my own cigarette and grinding the butt under my shoe.
“Not when you’re engaged to Alexander Remington. His family practically owns this place. They’d never get rid of you,” she said through pursed lips. “Maybe that’s why you’re slumming because you know you can.”
“I’m not slumming,” I said. “I’m escaping the oppressive bullshit I found with them. I can’t breathe around them, and everything feels all wrong when I’m around them.”
“Who? Alexander? Your parents?” she asked.
“All of them,” I replied. “Except for—”
I didn’t want her to know about Rome. My feelings for him felt dangerous and guarded. I didn’t know why.
“For who?” she asked. She stood up from where she was standing and brushed herself off.
“Nevermind,” I said quickly. “I should go lay down. I’m exhausted.”
“You look tired,” she said again and narrowed her eyes. Then, she stepped closer to me, looked up, and examined me closely. “You look different.”
“I feel different,” I said. “But maybe I’ll reset after my nap, like doing a hard reset on my phone.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But if not, you can always slum with me any time.”
I smiled, nodded, and said, “I will. I’ll look for you later.”
She smirked, sniffed as if not believing me, and walked away.
As she did, I had a sudden sense of familiarity. She could be a friend, not one like Victoria, but a true friend. And I didn’t know if I’d ever had one of those before. I didn’t know if anybody in this strange social circle had friends.
