12. Distorted Truth

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— Theo —

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Theo

I HASTILY SCROLLED through the pictures on my phone, my thumb shakily flipped through years of memories as I paced back and forth in my room.

There was a growing bubble of dread forming in the pit of my stomach as I felt the tension of uncovering the truth behind Julian's words. His last words to me before walking away had stolen my breath.

Whether it was because I hadn't expected him to divulge any sort of information about Riley or because I was too caught up in my fury to notice the significance of the girl Riley had punched.

My finger's stilled and a shaky breath lurched tightly out of my nose when I finally came across the picture I had been searching for. My eyes scanned the image for Irena Ford with growing apprehension — searching for a face to put the name with.

It was a picture of Riley's last soccer game of the season last year, they had come out on top after a gruelling match and they had gathered for a team picture. I remembered that match distinctly — Riley had taken a serious fall then and we later learned she had broken her ankle.

Nevertheless, she was adamant that a group photo was taken before she was wheeled off in an ambulance en route to the hospital. So she had centred herself on one steady foot and stood tall and proud in the corner with her hands placed around her teammate's arms for support.

Upon closer inspection, Riley's left arm was leaned against this stocky girl with dyed red hair as blonde peeked out of her roots. She held Riley upright in a friendly manner as a beaming smile graced her thin lips.

She had raised curved eyebrows and a cunning gleam in her hazel brown eyes. Her upturned nose and sharp features made her look like a tiger waiting to pounce on its prey.

With shocking realization, I noticed why Irena Ford was such a familiar name. Not only did Riley play on the same team as her, but she was also one of her first friends in high school. I hadn't recognized her because Riley always referred to her as 'Wren' as a nickname.

Riley was very selective about her choice of friends — she could've joined the large cliques of people at school, yet she has decided to keep a small group of friends. I had asked her about it and she had just shrugged loosely.

"They're just a bunch of town legacies forced to be friends because the generations before them were expected to be friends too. It's all just a front to keep up this town's fucking glorious prestige. "

To her credit — she had a point. Even when I was in high school, those generations of legacies had formed their inner circle and it had become a vicious cycle. They had the influence and the reputation to grip the reins of the school.

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