Deadline

3 / rbf

♡
fourth
chapter
_______
: rbf
a/n:
i'm not gonna launch straight into her meeting the guy just yet, bc i think we need some character development for cassia first aye?
x

"So what happened to whole I hate the world thing?" I ask Kai as she hands me the bottle of champagne to take a swig from. I'm taking a chance here. Testing the waters.
Fifty fifty she'll either get pissed, or see my sass as a joke.

She laughs and turns to me. "Oh please." She holds up a hand. "I don't hate the world, and I don't hate you, if that's what you thought."

I exhale silently.

After grabbing our coats and escaping from the grand ballroom of the beach resort, we hiked around the back, to the beach, kicking off our heels and toting them to one of the benches. The salty wind is positively icy against my face and it slices through my hair, numbing my ears.

I accept the bottle and tip my head, letting the cold sparkling alcohol bubble on my tongue.

"I did."

"I've been told I have a severe RBF."

I give her the bottle and she sighs, taking a long swig and then looking out to the inky black ocean.

"My boyfriend cheated on me." She says quietly. "With one of the girls in that group of people I was supposed to introduce you to."

Ouch.
Now I feel bad for misjudging her.
Evidently, not everyone who seems like a bitch at first glance is a bitch. They're just tired human beings who've had a rough day.

I pull my feet up onto the bench and turn to her. The silver light from the moon catches the tears glistening in her eyes and my heart goes out to her. And so I put my hand on her shoulder awkwardly. "How are you holding up?"

She gives a short laugh and sucks in a deep breath. "I just am." She murmurs. "Holding up, I mean. He was a jerk to begin with. And she's a freaking bitch."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask her cautiously, removing my hand from her shoulder and drawing my legs up onto the bench. I circle my knees with my arms. "It's totally fine if you don't. I understand."

"No, I suppose I should talk about it. It's way better than bottling."

I don't say anything. I just look at her and wait for her to start. She remains silent for a while, probably to compose herself, and all I can hear is the sound of the waves, crashing against rocks and lapping over the shore. 

"I got together with Zach back in January. He's this shithole who thinks he's all that and acts so charming, and I admit, I fell for it in both ways. Then he started to drift a little but I didn't think much of it because exams were coming up. Turns out that two months into our five month relationship, he'd started screwing around with Alona." I raise an eyebrow and she gestures back to the resort with one hand. "One of the girls in that clique. Later, when we go back in, I'll point her out."

I hum in acknowledgment and she goes on.

"And I have a really close friend, who told me he suspected Zach of cheating because he saw him out alone with Alona, but I refused to listen. Then I caught them myself last week."

"What a douche." I shake my head. "Did you confront them?"

She throws her hands up in the air. "No! Of course not! I saw them from afar, freaking making out in the freaking mall, and then I just panicked and hid. I texted him and asked him where he was, because, you know, maybe he had a valid reason or something, and he had the gall to tell me he was visiting his grandma."

I frown incredulously. "Well then you're lucky to be rid of him. He's such a shit."

"Yeah I know." She scoffs, crossing her legs applesauce. "But it just hurts, you know? I thought he liked me for real. Which, come to think of it, was really dumb."

"To be honest, way too many guys take their girlfriends for granted. I got cheated on before too, but that was years ago and probably doesn't even count." I remark, thinking about the time in seventh grade when my lab partner asked me to be his girlfriend and took my first kiss, only for me to catch him holding hands with a girl from his History class.
But get that, some start the vicious cycle of cheating already, from such an early age.
Ugh.

"Amen to that." She mutters. "Taking girlfriends for granted, I mean."

"I don't get why guys treat girls like we're all expendable. Maybe to them we are, but we aren't objects. We're living, breathing people and we don't deserve this bullshit. You don't deserve this bullshit. Screw boys."

"You're right." She laughs, shaking her head. "Preach, girl." Her chignon has come loose and her hair is now whipping around in the wind. Then, despite herself, she chortles. "But screw in what way?"

We dissolve into giggles and for the first time since moving here, I don't feel so alone.