The Other Girl

Chapter XIX

It was the last week of April and the election results had been announced: Jeremy was president, Rachel vice-president, and etcetera. Kimberly's name wasn't mentioned in the school post.

Karen didn't bring it up in discussion—in fact, she did everything she could to avoid discussing it. Every time someone got even close to mentioning Kimberly's name, she'd laugh and interrupt with a humorous personal anecdote.

"Haha," she'd laughed one lunch, her smile so wide it felt uncomfortable. "Have I told you all about that pony I owned at one point—Strawberry Shortcake, 'Shortie' for short. 'Cuz, you know, pony."

Kimberly was trying to avoid the clique entirely, although she still spent time with Calum—or so I heard. I suppose the agreement between the two had just been a joke of kinds, a unimportant social formality, although rumor has it that they weren't officially dating—yet.

And then there was the whole host of other happenings—finals, Quinn and Tim's budding relationship, graduation, etcetera, etcetera—but finals came first and foremost. I was graduating next year, and that meant that my time in school studying away was about to come to an end.

I'm going to be a senior next year. I'm going to finish school once and for all, no graduate school needed.

I don't feel ready.

---

The doorbell buzzed impatiently as I grumbled over to the door, annoyed at the person who dared to interrupt my studying so rudely.

"Can I help you?" I asked, pasting on a smile as I swung the door open. Calum stood in the hall, hands clenched loosely into fists of fidgety fingers.

"Hey Stella," he started, smiling weakly. "I need to talk to you about something. Can I come in?"

"Of course," I replied, moving out of the doorway. What did he want? It was Thursday afternoon, and I'd been studying away at home since I didn't have any classes today. What was so important he needed to come to my house, unannounced, on a Thursday afternoon to meet with me in person?

The scandal. He didn't really—

"Did you do it?" Calum asked, a portrait of hurt painted over his features as he walked back and forth in agitation. "Kim said—but I didn't believe her. I mean why would you—you didn't, right?"

"Calum, I thought we knew each other better than this," I whispered sadly. "Did our friendship mean nothing to you?"

"No! That's why I'm here," Calum sighed, taking a deep breath and meeting my gaze with swirling blue eyes. "Did you tell Stacey to make those posters?"

"Calum I—" I cut myself off, ashamed that I had been preparing to lie to my closest friend, my confidant. "No, Calum. I didn't do it."

"Thank god," Calum breathed, voice saturated with relief. "Kimberly said that you did, but she probably misunderstood. You're not like that, Stells. I tried to tell her, but she wasn't willing to listen."

"I told her I was responsible, Calum," I admitted. Calum glanced up in surprised confusion as I pushed on. "I had to, Calum. I'm Stacey's friend, and I couldn't let her take the fall alone. Not when I'm partly responsible."

"You said you didn't tell her to do it," Calum said, brows furrowed in confusion.

"I didn't," I asserted, frowning. "But Stacey took my words the wrong way."

"You said something," Calum concluded, closing his eyes. "You said something that Stacey inferred to mean that you wanted Kimberly gone."

"I was jealous, Calum," I explained earnestly, " but I never meant her harm. I was just kidding around, drunk and angry."

"Promise me you won't hurt Kimberly," Calum said, looking at me with pleading blue eyes. "Promise me."

"I promise, Calum," I told him, wrapping him into a hug. "I promise I won't do something so stupid again."

I promise I won't do anything to hurt her—unless she becomes a nuisance.

---

"God that was good," Jordan groaned, plopping onto the bed after his morning shower. "You wanna stay for breakfast? I can make pancakes."

"Sounds good," I said, sticking a hand out the side of the bed to feel around for my discarded clothes. "Ugh, you ripped my dress again."

"Sorry," Jordan apologized with a smirk, striding over to examine the now-useless piece of fabric. "You can hit up my closet for something."

"Will do," I sighed, wrapping myself in sheets and walking over to Jordan's closet. "I don't appreciate this, you know? I don't have an unlimited number of dresses, and ripping them will get you the trashier ones."

"Trashier?" Jordan echoed, dropping the ripped material and walking over to his closet to examine his wares as well. "Isn't that better for me?"

"Sure," I shrugged, sifting through the pieces of clothing. "If you prefer cheaper and less classy. Trashy outfits tend to go for less."

"Hm," Jordan hummed, picking up a grey button-down and holding it up in front of me. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I can pick my own outfits, thank you," I said, waving the shirt away. Jordan grinned, taking the piece off the rack and wrapping me in it.

"I think I like this color on you," he said, grinning. Ignoring the pinpricks of warmth on my cheeks, I gave him a cool look.

"If you haven't noticed yet, my eyes are green," I told him flatly. "You're the one with grey eyes."

"Then this is definitely your color," Jordan joked, smiling as he draped the material over my shoulders and spun me around to face the mirror. "Ta-dah. What'd I tell you? Definitely your color."

"I don't see it," I smiled, examining my reflection. "But I'll trust your judgement. Now go get started on those pancakes—I want to be home by two at the latest."

"That gives us five whole hours!" Jordan counted, lips curving into a smirk as his mind settled on a conclusion. "That's a lot in one day..."

"Nothing like that, Brooks," I snapped, making my way over to the bathroom. "We're getting lunch together, and we need to talk about you."

"Me?" Jordan asked, giving me a wry smile. "But I would so much rather talk about you."

"We need to talk about you, Jordan Brooks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're the graduating senior."

"Right," the black-haired boy said, smiling. "How could I forget?"

---

"Overseas?" I echoed, mouth forming an 'o'. "Where to?"

"I was thinking to start in Europe and branch out," Jordan explained with a grin. "See the world, see the ladies."

"Right," I smiled sadly, prodding an olive in my salad experimentally. "I'm going to miss you."

"Of course you'll miss me," Jordan smirked arrogantly before calming down. "You still have Remington thought, don't you?"

"Yes, but he's dating someone," I reminded the boy, sliding the remnants of the salad away. "So I wouldn't be able to hog his time like I do yours."

"So you admit to using me?" Jordan joked, the smile not reaching his eyes.

"Friendship isn't a one-way street, Brooks," I sang, smiling.

"Friends, huh?" Jordan said, testing the words on his tongue. "Have I been friendzoned?"

"Yes," I laughed, meeting his gaze with mischievous eyes. "I told you before that this is all you're getting from me."

"Yeah," he sighed, pasting on a smile. "I guess you did."

---

Hey All! Suuuper late and short chapter, but will update tomorrow with Chap XX 

Sorry about the super late update--was busy with school this week and procrastinating (I'll own up to it, but not proudly)

As usual plz vote/comment to let me hear you (and let me know that you're there and not accidentally clicking on this story)

—Littlewhims