Bia

I wanted to hate her, I really did. Ivy’s perfectly combed platinum blond hair screamed prep, as did her pink halter top and white (CLEAN!) skinny jeans. The girl’s lip gloss matched her shirt, for eff’s sake. Her mascara didn’t even clump.

All of her spelled out trouble; bitchy, bitchy trouble, but I was intrigued.

“So, we should hang out,” she was telling Calyx.

“Me too! Hang out with me too!” I wanted to scream, but didn’t. She looked Calyx’s age. Fourteen. I was fifteen. I was darker than her, much darker. And I’d seen things that would make her crap her pants.

“You too,” Ivy said coyly, staring at me. “Um, what did you say your name was?”
It then occurred to me I’d never introduced myself. “Bia. Bia Dellnor.”
“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of you. You go to the prep school, right? You hooked up with Draegan at my neighbour’s party!” Ivy giggled.

I frowned. Apparently everyone had heard. Peachy.

Calyx’s eyes narrowed and a blush rose to her cheeks. But why, though? Did she know Draegan? Did she hear about the party that I never actually attended? Maybe she could inform me what did happen the night everyone claims I hooked up with one of the scariest and most popular boys in the high school.

Because I honestly had no idea.

“Um, that wasn’t me,” I explained, my voice squeaking a little. “I wasn’t at that party.”
“Are there two Bia Dellnors?” Ivy asked.
I shook my head. “No, I just wasn’t there. It’s a rumor. I don’t go to parties.”
Ivy had a split second of disappointment in her eyes, then it faded. “Oh well. Your loss. Do you party, Calyx?”
“No, not really. I mean, I’ve gone to study parties,” Calyx admitted.
“Right.” Ivy did not seem pleased.

I turned my face away from this conversation, not wanting to address the sinking feeling in my stomach. Fable was giving me a strange look but all I could think about was darkness. Again.

“Hey, where’s your brother?” I asked Ivy.
“He’s at our booth,” she breathed lightly, looking over at where she’d once sat. “Or, not?”
Fable started to laugh.
“Omigod, where is he? Mom’s going to kill me! Shit shit shit… where’d he go? I have to find that worthless piece of crap!!” Ivy tore away from our group and ran over to the booth as if he’d gone invisible.

Fable poked my arm which was holding half an ice cream cone. “He ran out the door awhile ago.”

A plan emerged in my head and I couldn’t help but smile as the actions revealed themselves to me. This was perfect.

“We could help her look,” I offered.
Calyx beamed. “That’s a great idea! Um, Fable, do you want the rest of this?”
Fable frowned at the melted maple pecan ice cream. “No. Ew.”

Calyx tossed her ice cream into a garbage can near the counter and we ran after Ivy, who was now storming out the door in the same fashion I imagined her chubby brother to have done. Fable was still clutching her cone, not aware the ice cream was dripping out the bottom.

I was excited.

Ivy would owe us after this. She would HAVE to spread a counter-rumor. I could finally have my name cleared by (what I was guessing to be) a popular.

Awesome.