“You are disgusting and a disgrace to the entire family! I am ashamed to call you my daughter.” The cold, steely voice of her mother echoed in Mallory’s head. Even though the conversation had been days ago, she could still hear the venom woven in those words. And how could she forget? Even if it was the truth — and she refused to believe it was — it didn’t make it sting any less. What was worse was being given the cold shoulder by her own father. Once, Mallory was his favorite little princess. But now, he glared at her as if she was a bothersome pebble in his shoe. “No, no, no. Stop thinking, Mall.” She screwed her eyes close, breathing in deeply through her nose and out of her mouth, hoping it would be enough to drive her racing thoughts away. But instead, the image of her mother’s scowling face and her father’s stony stare resurfaced on the back of her eyelids. Her eyes flew open, and she swore under her breath. So much for that idea. She studied the reflection in the mirror. What did the others see when they looked at her? Was she only a girl with the so-called perfect body and tan; was she just another pretty face with her honey-brown curls and her jewel-green eyes? Did anyone see a worth beyond her looks? More importantly, did anyone look at her — really look at her — and see what she saw: a broken girl on a string pretending to be someone she was not? Of course, she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who decided to give it everything to climb the social ladder, including stepping on others when she deemed necessary. She traded a game controller for a pair of pom-poms; she dated the most desirable boy and stayed with him even as he belittled and cheated on her for clout. All she wanted was to be noticed by her peers. And when she moved here three years ago, it was the perfect chance to start afresh. The hardest part was to suppress part of herself and be what society considered normal. For a while, she made it her mantra: just act natural. But too soon, it was less acting and more reacting on natural instinct. She was good — too good — playing the role of the dumb blonde and clingy cheerleader that everyone seemed to expect her to be. And all for what? Her friends, if she could even call them that, taunted her behind her back. Her boyfriend dumped her to date the school’s nerdiest nerd. And worse of all, she was carrying a child in her belly. Her eyes burned as the start of tears threatened to spill. Hastily, she rubbed her eyes furiously. “Just… stop… thinking!” With more force than necessary, she turned the faucet on. Before she could think better of it, she splashed the cold water onto her face. For a blissful split second, it worked. But the shock quickly disappeared, and the unwelcoming thoughts crept back into her mind. Desperation seized her entire body. She didn’t want to think; she just wanted everything to go away. Falling to her knees, she frantically rummaged through her backpack, disrupting the neat order. It didn’t matter — she could always organize that later. But where was the orange bottle? There was no way she accidentally left it at home! Finally, her trembling hand wrapped around a small container. Pulling it out, Mallory let out a sigh of relief. Just touching it calmed her down. Since when did she become so dependent upon it? Her thumb brushed the bold letters spelling out “Jax Miller” as if to hide it from view. She chuckled hollowly, smiling bitterly to herself. Twisting the cap open, she swallowed two pills dry. “You are pathetic.” Now, it was Alora’s voice that filled her head. It was the first time Mallory had seen the girl so angry. “All you ever do is hurt others! One day, you will regret it. You know what they say: karma’s a witch, but with a B.” Recalling the words again, Mallory trembled with rage. How dare the stupid nerd talked back to her? Alora was the pathetic one! She was just a lowly nerd who thought she could bully her way into the top university with her brain alone. Furthermore, she was a shameless boyfriend stealer. There was no way a guy like Hunter would choose Alora when he could have a woman like Mallory. Pathetic. Disgusting. A disgrace. A quiet whimper forced itself up from her throat, and she couldn’t believe how pitiful it sounded. Did she really make that sound? How did she fall down so hard? What a sorry sight she must be! She, Mallory Miller, the self-proclaimed queen of the school, kneeling on dirty tiles and taking stolen medicine. And in a public school’s restroom, too! Any second, anyone could walk in and— The door swung open, and in walked the devil herself: Alora. Without thinking, Mallory stuffed the medication back into her bag. She readied herself for the upcoming conversation. Just act natural, she thought to herself. It took Alora a few seconds to notice she wasn’t alone. She halted, and her brown eyes widened in surprise comically. Just then, Mallory remembered that her face was still dripping with water. “Um… are you okay?” Alora asked hesitantly. Mallory couldn’t help but laugh. Receiving pity from the very girl who single-handedly ruined her life was a great joke. “Oh, please,” she snapped, standing up. “Cut the sweet girl act — I’m not buying it. Don’t act as if you care!” She stalked forward, and a sick twinge of satisfaction ran through her to see Alora scrambling back fearfully. “Mark my words, four-eyes. I will get my revenge and ruin you. And I will get Hunter back. Who, by the way, is way out of your league.” To her surprise, the other girl’s shoulder haunched together as if the words struck her physically. Her tongue flicked over her chapped lips. “Look. I don’t want to fight you again. Just let me use the restroom in peace.” Alora hesitated, then added, “And if you want, you can tell me what’s wrong. Even if I don’t like you, it’s not okay for someone to be crying alone.” Fight her? Mallory would love to see her try! Didn’t Alora know Mallory lifted girls over her head before? “What’s wrong,” she spatted venomously, “is that I have to see your stupid, nerdy face every day. Do you think you’re better than me? Well, guess what? You’re not!” Alora held her hand up defensively. “I never said that, and I don’t think I am either.” She studied Mallory carefully, her lips tugging downwards. “Mall… are you okay, really? You seem… well, I don’t know… sad.” Mallory flinched, stepping away. Why did Alora try to be so damnable nice all of the time? The storm of emotions warring inside of her was too much to deal with. Why couldn’t the pills kick in already? It was all the stupid baby’s fault for making a mess of her hormones. She wondered how long would it take before Hunter corrupted Alora’s kindness and turned it into something foul. Would he move on to the next girl and leave Alora to raise his child alone, too? Did she even know that Mallory was carrying his child? Probably not. “Just… stay away from Hunter,” Mallory finally said. Instead of taking the words as a piece of advice, Alora took it as a threat. She huffed in annoyance. “You need to get over with him and find someone else who will love you. It’s not healthy to obsess over someone who doesn’t like you anymore.” Mallory turned around, crossing her arms tightly. Though she never loved Hunter, she didn’t want to let him go. She measured out her next words carefully, trying to figure out what to say without revealing too much. “It’s not that. Hunter isn’t an ideal boyfriend unless you want one that disregards and cheats on you.” “You’re lying! Hunter won’t do that,” Alora declared loyally. Mallory stared at her bleakly. Of course, Alora wouldn’t believe a word she said — the two girls’ relationship was far from friendly. “Stop trying to make him look like a bad person; I won’t fall for your lies.” She paused, then added, “Just stay away from Hunter and me unless you want everyone to know that you were crying in the restroom.” To think that Mallory actually thought Alora was a decent person. Hoping her alarm wasn’t obvious, Mallory narrowed her eyes. “No one will believe you, four-eyes.” “Maybe not,” Alora agreed, shrugging casually. “But Hunter will, and everyone believes Hunter.” With that, she spun around and headed for the door. “Have fun crying in the restroom alone like a loser you are.” Mallory watched the girl go, smiling wryly. This is what happens when you try to play nice, she thought to herself. She supposed there was nothing she could really do. After all, each one of them was merely a puppet on a string — none of them have any control of their own lives. Trudging back to her backpack, she fished for the orange bottle again. All these strong emotions couldn’t be good for her child. And what was one more pill, after all?