Best Served Fake

nine // goodbye

"Would it be overkill to run away with that pretty black crop top she has?" I asked Cora over the phone.

I was sitting in the car across the street from Sydney's house. Syd lived in one of the wealthiest suburbs in Melbourne, where the houses were sprawling, the trees were carefully manicured and the gates were tall. She had always been a little bit entitled, but it hadn't bothered me too much until she'd decided she was entitled to my boyfriend.

"This is why I called you," Cora said, her voice crackling slightly through the phone. "Please do not carve anything into her lawn, or commit any destruction of property, or, you know, murder."

"I really like that black top though," I said wistfully.

Cora laughed lightly. "Sweetheart, you're so far in the right in this scenario. Your moral high ground is practically the Empire State Building, and Sydney is a tiny ant on the street. Keep it that way. Don't give her anything to be mad about, because she'll use it to justify her behaviour."

I thought about all of the times Sydney had done that to Cora. Been a shitty friend, and used Cora's reaction to absolve herself of guilt. I mean, I know I ditched her, but she called me like fourteen times afterwards. No wonder I ditched her, she's such a clingy psycho. I remembered that Cora had eventually stopped reacting.

"You're right," I said, on a sigh. "You're always right."

"I know I am."

I looked at the front of Sydney's house. It was as familiar to me as my own. I'd spent over a decade in its beautiful, ivy-covered walls. Dancing and laughing and thinking of ways to catch the attention of cute boys (usually Kai). I slept there twice a week, usually. I had my own toothbrush in the bathroom.

Cora had been silent for a moment. But her voice sympathetic as she said, "It's going to be okay, Ally. I know it's shit, but she's not a good friend. She's just really good at making people forget it."

"You know you're the best person I know?" I asked. Cora had a heart of gold, and she was too good for me, and far too good for Syd. "I'm sorry if I never made that clear enough."

I could imagine Cora tossing her long mane of blonde hair over her shoulder, hiding her pleasure behind confidence and vanity. "I am pretty great, right?" she said. It was a trait she'd picked up from Sydney; a defence mechanism for Cora, deflecting the compliment. When Syd did it, it was usually genuine conceit.

But I didn't tell her that. Instead, I just laughed. "Alright, I'm off to fight the dragon."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Cora called.

"Then I wouldn't be going in."

"Which still remains my advice."

I thought about not going in. Never speaking to Sydney again. Leaving myself with unanswered questions and resigning myself to never obtaining true closure. Then I thought about how good it would feel to stick my middle finger up at her stupid apologies. The thought made me feel giddy and warm.

So, I stepped out of the car, the phone still pressed to my ear. "But how else am I supposed to steal that black top?" I hung up the phone quickly with a grin, as the beginning of Cora's giggled protest that Sydney was going to arrest me tumbled through the speakers.

I might give Cora a premature heart attack, but the top was super cute.

I slammed the car door, not even bothering to lock it. Amidst the Tesla's and Rolls Royce's that frequented Sydney's neighbourhood, it seemed tedious to lock my car.

Besides, if it came down to it, I'd steal Sydney's Porsche. Call it an asshole tax. I pictured the look on Cora's face if I pulled up to her house driving Sydney's car, and it almost made me laugh.