Piece By Piece | ✓

9 | vanessa

     Vanessa went back to class the following week.

     Juggling two jobs at the same time was hard work, but she had to suck it up and handle it, or else she won't be able to pay her bills and keep a roof under her head.

     And to top it all off, her car's air conditioner got broken and her tires were wearing out. Thinking about all these expenses amped up her stress levels. Vanessa heaved a sigh before entering her wretched Literature class.

     She didn't really mind the hateful stares and disgusted noises they made to annoy the hell out of her—she'd been around these kinds of people for too long; so she usually managed to tune out their uninteresting opinions—but what kept her on edge all the time was the fact that he shared the same Literature class as her.

     He was there when she entered the classroom. Of course, he was still sitting on her spot, and almost immediately, she wanted to yell at him, to tell him to get lost and find another vacant seat because it was hers, but she didn't—she just couldn't.

     It was a well-known fact that Vanessa Dawson was a hot-tempered, impulsive bitch who never hesitated to flip someone off or slap someone if they messed with her or annoyed her constantly.

     But ever since he came along, she suddenly felt helpless and vulnerable whenever he was there—an exasperating feeling that she absolutely hated—as if she were starting to slowly rebuild her fallen kingdom that was unexpectedly reduced to filthy ashes all over again.

     She stared at her old seat—the one Tristan was sitting on—for one quick moment, narrowing her eyes at the guy who stole it from her.

     She didn't expect to find out that he and Nic were cousins; the only type of connection she thought they had was some sort of weird predilection to annoy the fuck out of her.

     Then again, Nic had a mop of messy red curls while he had lusciously disheveled blonde hair. The two of them being related by blood wasn't much of an obvious thing that people easily figured out—Nic didn't even mention him to her before. And she never bothered to ask him about personal shit, anyway.

     Acknowledging him by his first name still made her feel like she wanted to punch something. It was weirdly infuriating, to be honest.

     When Mr. Henri saw her at class, he didn't hesitate to point out her absences last week.

     "Your grades will go downhill if you keep skipping my class, Vanessa," he said, shaking his head in disappointment. She didn't fail to notice that everyone in the class whispered how they badly wanted her to flunk her subjects.

     From her peripheral vision, she saw Tristan frown deeply, a displeased expression marring his sculpted face.

     "I'll do what I can to pass your subject, sir," Vanessa replied, trying hard not to hiss at her professor.

     Ever since the accident happened, almost all of the people who were close friends with her twin sister became terribly antagonistic towards her; they even blamed her for killing Veronica on purpose because, according to them, she was "a jealous bitch who wanted to steal her sister's spotlight".

     She wasn't surprised that they had blamed her for Veronica's untimely demise, because they were absolutely right. It was all her fault. She couldn't save her sister. And it was going to haunt her everyday, for the rest of her miserable life.

     Most of her professors, who preferred to be ignorant and act as if she were another unimportant gnat roaming the halls and attending their classes, pissed her off just as much.