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Call all the ladies out
they're in their finery
Emilia Cheung was 17, in love, and bored out of her mind.
She spun her pen absently, only half-listening to Mrs Porter's lecture on economics. She really should have paid more attention, but the morning sluggishness hadn't subsided despite it being last period, and the damned pen jabbing into her shoulder wasn't helping either.
The last time she saw her boyfriend was two hours ago. Emilia missed him already. Will wasn't in this class, nor were the other two of his cohort. She repressed the urge to bounce her knee, keeping her expression still. Indifference was her favourite mask lately. Second to that would be a resting bitch face, but that was reserved for special occasions. Such as being constantly prodded by a sycophant.
One, two, three.
Mrs Porter's bouffant of white hair bobbed away.
Emilia snaked a hand around her chair, snatching the offending pen away from the round-eyed girl sitting behind her.
Not a minute later, something distinctly fingernail-shaped poked into her shoulder.
Emilia would give her that; she was persistent.
But so were the dozens of female classmates that had approached her before, hoping for an access card to popularity.
Poke. Poke.
Emilia whipped her head around, slow enough not to ruin her carefully curled black waves, but fast enough to communicate her annoyance.Blatantly fake eyelashes, clumpy mascara, and a white Gucci blouse that Emilia recalled seeing in her mother's closet last year greeted her. She turned the dial on her glare higher, and watched the brunette's composure crumple like rice paper in the wind. "What?" she hissed. Does this girl have a death wish?
"Uh, Emilia?"
Apparently, yes. "What's your name?"
The girl was visibly taken aback by the question, but she answered nonetheless. "Karly. With a 'K'." A tentative pause. "Can I-may I ask, why?" The hope that brightened Karly's eyes was pitiful.
"So I can blacklist it from every party I hear about," Emilia deadpanned. She wouldn't actually. Lord knew high school was hard enough without her sadism screwing up someone's social life, or lack thereof, if the desperation leaking from Karly with a K's pores was any indication. But Karly didn't know that. One word from Emilia, and Karly's role as social pariah would be cemented for the rest of the year. If she wasn't one already.
Mercifully, Emilia remained undisturbed until the bell rang, signalling the end of another torturous Tuesday.
---------------------------------------------
Will was waiting for her by her locker.
Emilia ran the last few meters to meet him, and they collided in a flurry of hugs and textbooks amidst the sea of fire-engine red lockers. He laughed and pressed a kiss to her mouth.
"Hey," she said, a little breathlessly.
"Hey, you." He smiled, a soft curl of his lips just for her, and heavens, would she die for that smile. "Having a bad day?"
"Not anymore." Emilia allowed herself to relax in his embrace for one more instant, letting the faint smell of mint and his laundry detergent clear her mind, smoothen her jagged edges, before she let go. Butterflies shifted restlessly in her chest, batting their diaphanous wings to the thumping of her heart. She busied herself with tidying her backpack, sneaking not-so-surreptitious glances at him all the while. Mussed chestnut hair, dark irises, defined jaw; there was no question: William Farley-Chan cut a fine figure.
The contentment she always felt around Will. But it died instantly upon seeing a familiar figure approach.
Mariana Trent. Her ex-best friend.
Emilia had stupidly trusted her.
She vowed to never make the same mistake again.
Some naive, foolish part of her yearned for days long gone, but she was wise enough to know now that people don't change, they only get better at disguising who they are. And Emilia's facade was bulletproof.
Mariana breezed past her, two planets colliding and leaving each other's orbits. Cold air blew across Emilia's face, sending a strand of hair into her mouth. Will tucked it gently behind her ear. She clutched his hand tightly, absorbing his warmth to smother the gnawing emptiness inside.
An arm slung itself around Will's shoulders, and Thomas Evans appeared. "Why don't you ever treat me like that?" A crisp British accent laced his words.
Will rolled his eyes, shrugging his arm off. "She's my girlfriend. You're a pain in the ass."
"But I'm your pain in the ass! You've only been dating for four months. Our relationship began in kindergarten!" Thomas said plaintively.
"Will."
"Wiiiiiiill."
"William!"
"Willy?"
"Willie the Pooh-"
Will snorted. "What do you want now?"
Thomas slapped a hand to his chest in mock offence. "Must people always have ulterior motives?"
Yes.
"You, definitely. Stop talking, you're reinforcing the blonde bimboy stereotype." I cut in.
"You wound me! I know I'm secretly your favourite, though. You can tell me, Will won't know."
The person in question snorted lightly.
"Shut up, Evans," a third voice chimed in. Kyle Ishikawa narrowed his hazel eyes at Thomas. That remark cost him the gelled black spikes of hair on his head.
I had friendships like that once. The warmth in Emilia's chest dissipated like mist on a sunny day, burned away by the withering heat of envy. It was a chore to school her expression to apathy, but she had gotten it down to a science. Relax your face, keep your eyes straight ahead. Be aloof but not blank, or else you'll look like a fool,
"Will, I'm getting coffee with the girls." Just thinking about it wearied her. She paused. "Movie marathon tonight?"
"Sorry, babe. I've got plans tonight." The practiced response passed from his lips. Will's gaze remained trained on the other two boys, now tussling on the floor.
"Oh. Okay." But Emilia could tell he wasn't listening anymore. She hiked her school bag onto her shoulder, raising her hand in a wave. Disappointment tore through her chest, shredding gossamer wings and silken threads. Butterflies fell, silently, to the ground. "See you tomorrow then."
She slowed down her pace, just to see if he would spare her a glance.
