Alamort

8. Priya

Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers

A n alarm blares in my ear. Reaching over to snooze it using the button on my phone, I click it twice until I hear the screen shut off. With a grunt of frustration, I raise my head when the sound continues. The noise finally shuts off. Falling back on the pillow, I contemplate my existence and wonder if it would be so bad to drop out of school and live on the streets. My parents will disown me either way. A stripper? I hear they make good money. The scars on my thighs might disgust a lot of people. I’ll think about it. Put a pin in it.

The bed dips down and the scent of coffee wafts in front of my nose. “Mmmmm. If this is how you wake me up. You can just move in,” I tell River.

“Goooooddd morning sunshine!” Oh God. She’s a morning person. I cringe mockingly, making sure it’s noticeable behind my first sip of coffee. Which earns me a beaming smile in return. With how bright and happy she is, she looks like sunshine. Does she look like that when she wakes up? A model. Pretty sure I look like Anna from Frozen, hair everywhere, drool running down my face.

“I took the liberty of finding out your appointment time with the dean and set my alarm. I laid out your school outfit. I’m not sure what you want for breakfast—” My hand up, I stop her because first thing is first, I need at least a couple sips of coffee before I can face today and pretend like last night didn’t happen. Sweeping it under the rug is the healthiest way, right?

“You’re doing too much.” A little light fades from her eyes. Her sad eyes make me feel bitchy. After last night, I can tell she has a thing for taking care of people. “It’s not a bad thing.” Quickly trying to amend my statement. “Coffee is my breakfast…” There’s a good, awkward pause. The one where I’m trying to fill in the blank with something. I lean towards honesty. “I’m just not used to it. Thank you...” Those words are definitely in need of dusting off. “For the coffee and making sure I make it to the dean on time.” I give a small smile.

“I can tell you’re not used to being taken care of, but that won’t deter me. Get used to it.” I tilt my head, humming my agreement. I don’t take her statement to heart because I’ve learned that no one stays around long enough.

“Coffee or an energy drink is my breakfast usually. It’s quick and gets me out the door faster.” And away from my parents’ wrath. “My favorite color is pink, but the baby pink. Not that hideous hot pink. I’m a loner and I hate being around people.” I figured if she’s going to be around, letting her peek into my head a little wouldn’t hurt. As long as it’s nothing too detrimental. I’m used to dealing with mean girls and hostile people with ill intentions. I’ve had no one take an interest in me or go out of their way to make sure I’m okay, other than my sister, of course. Having friends would mean more secrets and lies to cover up for my father. I’d rather suffer than benefit my father in any shape or form.

Allowing myself to make a friend… that’s unfamiliar territory. I hope this isn’t a trick. A frown pulls on the corner of my mouth.

After 45 minutes of trying to tie a damn school tie, and three seconds of River tiring of my attitude. Like when I’m putting my hair up in a bun and can’t get it quite right and I get so pissed off my blood boils? That’s where I’m at. At that point, she stepped in and seven movements later, she was tightening the black and green plaid tie.

I check myself out in the mirror that came with the room, and the collar of my fresh white button-up that completely hides my bite mark. Accompanied by a black high waisted skirt, the hideous tie, and my black Mary Jane chunky heels to complete the look. It’s ingrained in me to dress up and play a part. River dresses comfortably. I glare at her outfit longingly on the way to the door. I make sure to grab my black bag this time. Wishing we could switch places. My look isn’t as sneaky as I thought.

“You’re a new student and knowing who your family is, I’m assuming being the show pony isn’t far off. So, while you’re uncomfortable…” She trails off when we reach to the elevator to get to the first floor. She clicks the ground level button as she continues, “I will be suffering in my pajamas. I’m doing this for you, otherwise, I would be laid up comfortably in bed binge watching ‘ That 70s Show ’ high off my ass on edibles.” I tsk as the elevator door dings and we step off into the common area. Before I can come up with a smart-ass retort, we’re stopped by my pleasant tour guide, Amber Astor.

It’s too early for the snotty look on her face and the words about to come out of her mouth. She is the type of girl who refuses to leave anywhere without makeup on. Not a hair out of place on her head as if it was hair sprayed that way. Her makeup is flawless. The “fuck me” red lipstick she wears is difficult to miss.

“Already cozy with the lesbian of the school, I see.” Amber gives River a once over before dismissing her and angling her body to me. Anger heats my body at the cold shoulder River receives. River looks ready to fold in on herself. I have to say it doesn’t suit her bubbly personality and that pisses me off more.

“Good morning to you too, Amber. Glad to see you woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.” River shoots back at her.

“I was talking to Priya,” she sneers.

“Be careful. Your face will get stuck like that.” God, I sound like my mother. I grab River’s hand and walk around the eerie carbon copies to move on with our day, knowing I’m damn well not going to be late over anyone’s cattiness. Before we breeze past her, Amber’s arm shoots out, jerking River to a halt. My eyes widen. Who the fuck does she think she is?

“Make sure she knows the rules, dykopath or neither of you will like the consequences.” The threat is obvious. River shakes her off, pulling me to the door that leads outside as if nothing ever happened.

She’s going to let her talk to her that way? I stare at River. Really take a look at her as we’re walking. She puts on a brave front, but at times she seems timid. Outgoing when she needs to be. I’m not one for confrontation unless it’s someone I care about. She’s a gentle soul.

“I understand if you don’t want to hang out with me.” She won’t look at me, opting to stare off into the distance. Her sadness encompasses me like it’s my own and maybe it is.

“What are you talking about? Because you’re into girls? What does that have to do with me? You were a lesbian before me. I don’t swing that way, but I’m not going to treat you differently. You did more for me than anyone has last night. Actions speak louder than words and yours were deafening.” I give her a reassuring smile. Comforting people isn’t a strong point for me. I slip my arm into the crook of hers and continue to the dean’s office.

“Now, what was she talking about ‘rules’ and ‘consequences’?” I mock Amber in a deep, ominous voice.