love like fools ➙ glee

twenty-five ; toxic.

If you'd told Alicia one week ago that, soon enough, Clara Santiago would be sitting on her bed and looking expectantly around her room, she wouldn't have believed you.

She would've freaked out and wondered how you knew Clara, too. But that was irrelevant.

Clara was dressed as professionally as always, if a bit more fashionably than during middle school. Today, she wore black high heels with white ankle socks, a plaid black and white skirt, a loose-fitting white blouse, and a not-so-loose-fitting black cardigan, halfway buttoned. Her purse, a small black leather bag, was resting on her lap, tan hands clasped over it.

"I like your room."

"Why are you here?"

Well, that wasn't the "thank you" Alicia planned to say.

Clara frowned. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear, pink lips pouting. Clara, despite her sweetness, was secretly tougher than anyone Alicia knew. Except for maybe her own mother. Wariness was appropriate. "Would you like me to leave? Because I did come a long way, amiga. San Francisco isn't exactly a quick jog away." 

Alicia flinched. Clara had always called her that, usually to calm Alicia down when her anxiety became overwhelming (it was far worse back in middle school). Clara had never called Ashleigh that. She'd chosen another nickname: querida.

The usage of the familiar name, in that familiar voice, with that all-too-familiar kind face was too much, too fast. Alicia didn't know why or how Clara was back in Lima, much less why she'd chosen to spontaneously appear in her bedroom. Mostly, she couldn't comprehend why Clara would want anything to do with Alicia after what she caused.

She didn't deserve to be around Clara. In fact, she didn't even deserve to be around Ashleigh.

She had ruined everything.

"I don't think I can deal with small talk right now. I think I'm going into shock."

Clara's eyes narrowed. "Niña, please spare me. I am very happy to see you, and you're killing my buzz. Really." She scoffed, but her dark eyes flickered with humor. It seemed Clara still had the tendency of only acting bitter. Everyone knew she didn't have a streak of bitterness in her. Or at least, not when Alicia knew her.

But people changed.

Alicia wouldn't blame her for changing.

"Let's not act like strangers, no? I know it's been awhile. My life has changed dramatically, and clearly yours has, too." With a mischievous smirk, Clara whipped out a photograph. One that Alicia had kept hidden under her pillow since it was taken early this summer.

Alicia gaped. "You went through my room?!"

Clara shrugged unapologetically. "I was bored." When she noticed Alicia's horrified expression, she backtracked. "I didn't find any secret diaries filled with torrid fantasies, I promise. All that really caught my attention was this photo. Is this tu amor, amiga? I always knew this day would come--"

"No," Alicia insisted. Finn was not her love. Not in the way Ashleigh was implying. Not where they kissed and held hands, a duo against the world. It would never be like that. And it was better that way. "We're just friends."

"Are you sure? You are looking at him like he hung the moon in this photo. That is the look of a girl who is so deep in love that it might as well be quicksand."

Alicia swallowed hard. "He has a girlfriend."

"Yikes."

Pressing her lips together, Alicia snatched the photo away from Clara, sliding it under her pillow again. When Clara reached for it, Alicia settled her hands on her hips. "No. This is not about him. Or me. I . . . I want to know what you're doing here, Clara. You're right, it has been a long time. Too long. I don't understand."