Chapter Thirty-Five

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As Alessia Trent hit the cold stone floor, so did I, Olivia Clark.

Alessia's emotions ran deep and ran fast, whirling me into a flurry of anguish. I could be as happy as could be, but with Alessia's sour mood, it wouldn't be enough.

As Alessia continued to spiral, so did her school life. All homework that I had left for her to do had either not made it in to the teacher, or came back with the worst results I had ever seen. Alessia had pushed me back and alienated Lucas, telling him to leave her alone—I guess there were worse things she could've said to him. The bullying got worse as Alessia began to submit, and her father continued to be unconditionally cruel. Her life was turning upside down, and I just wasn't strong enough to hold it still.

Dylan was the only constant, the only happy note to her life. She saw him, and everything floated away. He anchored her.

But he also anchored me, and it was seeming more and more impossible to gain his attention by the day. As Prom neared, Alessia sat on her own wants and needs and waited patiently for the inevitable—for Dylan to ask me, Olivia Clark, to prom.

The idea made her slow; it made her heart feel heavy. Yet, she couldn't ignore it. She couldn't ignore anything, and that's what made her weak—a target.

"Aw," Alessia broke out of her train of thoughts, seeing Lizzie standing in the reflection of the mirror Alessia's eyes had faded into. "Your hair has grown out nicely," she sneered, making Alessia angry. She kept a lid on it, though, trying to remain calm.

Lizzie huffed when Alessia didn't respond, joining her in the mirror and rubbing under her eyes, perfecting her makeup. "The least you could do is respond, you delinquent." She spat, pulling her brush out of her bag so that she could brush through her silky blonde hair. Alessia had always been jealous of blonde hair and found herself admiring it in the reflection.

When Lizzie caught her staring, though, she sucked it right up. "I know, Less, I'm pretty." She said, smoothing out her hair as she smiled.

I had always thought that there was no problem in accepting and acknowledging your own beauty—whether it be an inner thing, or an outer thing—as long as you weren't too boastful about it. But Alessia was much opposed to the idea, thinking any kind of self-encouragement was vain and egotistical.

Maybe that was because she had never thought she was at all beautiful, or worth anyone's time. But maybe that's because that's all she's ever been told.

Alessia didn't respond to Lizzie again, making her more annoyed. She slammed her bag down on the side, whirling around to face Alessia.

"What is it with you and disrespecting kind people?" She asked, "First with me by being my ex's affair, then with your blackmails to Kiara, now, you're onto Dylan. That's disrespectful. Both to him and to Olivia. And you know it. But you don't even care."

Alessia, sighed, trying to walk around Lizzie so she could use the toilet. Lizzie side-stepped, though, blocking Alessia.

After a few moments of staring at Alessia with a look of disgust, her arms across her chest and a smile formed on her lips. She seemed to have an idea. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you need to use the toilet?" She asked.

Alessia deflated, not even wanting to try. But she did anyway, "Just move, Lizzie." She said weakly.

Lizzie's nostrils flared, "This is what I mean; this is disrespect. You didn't even say 'please'."

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