The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(2)

Desperate. Perhaps that’s just the excuse I’ve told myself.

Chandra was on her phone, walking into the common room, mere hours before the selection meeting, and I heard her complaining about a new girl on the soccer team—a superstar that was going to take away her starting position. She wanted her father to do something about it, but his hands were tied.

I knew who this threat was—my twin sister, Cass.

Cass is the reason I’m at this school. I never really wanted to come here, but my sister suffers from multiple sclerosis, and my parents were too worried to let her attend school thousands of miles from home. So I changed my path, bending it to coincide with hers. A part of me resented Cass for it too. Maybe that’s why I did what I did? Or maybe that’s just next in the long line of excuses I’ve given myself.

Whatever the justification, somehow, I found myself by Chandra’s side the moment her phone call ended. I gave her details about my sister’s multiple sclerosis, filling her in on my parents’ disapproval of Cass playing competitive sports and exerting herself. I told myself it was all in Cass’s best interest anyway. What I was doing, it served two purposes—one that I just happened to gain from.

While my insight piqued Chandra’s interest, I could tell I wasn’t giving her enough. She was walking away, her back to me, my window of opportunity closing fast. That’s when I crossed the line.

I told her about Cass’s past, not completely spelling it out, but saying just the right things to have her believe my sister had an affair with a teacher in high school, letting her draw her own false conclusions from other girls she knew who had given her gossip, not worrying about what it meant for Cass.

I didn’t worry because Chandra’s arm was looped through mine. I gave her more as we waited for the other girls to arrive, and she sat me close to her on the sofa. Soon, she whispered something to her vice president. I tilted my head enough to see the list on the clipboard; I saw my name with a line drawn through it. An hour later, when it wasn’t called among the dozen other girls formally dismissed from our pledge class, I felt a rush. Cass’s secrets had bought me access—and for a while, I got away with it.

I didn’t feel guilt—not at first. My indiscretion hadn’t caused Cass any real pain. She’d still made the team. She was happy. I was happy. Her secrets…they seemed to die right there on that sofa where I’d spilled them.

It was harmless; so I thought.

For the last three nights I’ve replayed the look on Cass’s face—the pain in her eyes as she told me Chandra had used my words against her, had tormented her secretly with the things I’d confided in this woman who I thought was my friend. My sister was assaulted by someone Chandra knew. While Chandra acted appalled in front of me, she was nothing but cruel to Cass, quick to lay blame at my sister’s feet. She even fed the rumor that Cass had acted inappropriately, just like she had in the past—sleeping her way through school and into a spot on the team.

There was no way around feeling the punch in my gut that came along with knowing this was all my fault—I’d given Chandra the impression treating my sister that way was allowed. I haven’t been alone with Chandra since coming back from break. I’m afraid of the words that will no doubt fly freely from my mouth. While she deserves them, I’m not sure I’m ready for the consequences waiting for me if I let go of my tongue.

Chandra—she holds the power. My new life, it only exists because of her. I know I’m a bitch for thinking of myself, but this existence—the parties, the boyfriend, the popularity and status—it’s all I’ve ever wanted. It sounds shallow, but is it really so different from wanting to be the lead in a play or the star athlete? I wanted to be looked up to, admired and envied, and Chandra was my ticket.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I whisper to myself, the last vestige of the fire burning out before me.

A small piece of ash—the final evidence of warmth—floats down from the sky, its silvery reflection lit by the faint light shining through the window behind me. My eyes watch its path, the tears wrestling loose and sliding down my cheek, racing it to the earth until both the ash and my sorrow land at my feet.

The vision of my feet against the cold cement drifts in and out of focus. I concentrate on my black slipper shoes and the perfect line against the paleness of my ankle. Then I notice the haphazard swirls of beads interrupting everything.

Cass made me this ankle bracelet, using the beads from our mother’s store to thank me for coming here. She gave it to me the day we packed up our belongings and drove with our parents across the country to McConnell. She handed it to me in the back seat, a small note wrapped around it expressing her thanks. She didn’t want my mother seeing, because it wasn’t about getting credit for the gesture. It was about her love for me—despite my flaws.

With one thumb rubbing the largest bead, I pull my phone forward to rest in my other hand, my legs now folded up in front of me.

By morning, everyone will see Chandra for who she is. The story will spread slowly to start, but near the end, it will be rapid. Her coach will know. The athletic director will know. The college president will know.

Everyone. Will. Know.

I hit SEND.

These friends that I’ve made—the ones passed out in the house behind me, the same people who love me because Chandra told them to—they’ll know I’m the one who did it.