I look like a fucking joke, with my dark makeup and battered dog tags setting starkly against the bright, happy turquoise string-thing.
I cut my eyes at her. “Yeah, I’m not super into looking hot or incredible.” I tug at the top, making sure my tits are secure. One false move…
I’m not insecure about my body. It’s nothing special, but I’m thin and curvy in the right places. I know I could look good if I wanted to. Which, I don’t.
It’s the scars that are a problem.
I always had passable cover stories, back home. A cooking accident. A bad cliff dive. A track mishap. A fall off my bike. They were believable in their gradual deliveries. An incident here, an incident there… not super suspicious, and if it ever was?
Well, river rats don’t ask questions.
Vomiting out all of those cover stories at once is a different beast. Transparent. Not even remotely believable. Might as well say I ran into a door. I’d probably need to pass around a spreadsheet just to keep up with it all, anyway. Georgia hasn’t even seen the worst of it yet, hidden behind my long hair, and already I see her eyes tracking the strange dots on my thighs, the slash on my ribs, the discolored skin around my collarbone.
Georgia, by contrast, has the most perfect, smooth, glowing skin. Girls at Preston are like that, all clean and flawless and pure. Kind of makes me hate them, if I’m being honest.
Vandy walks out of the bathroom just then, sporting a colorful two-piece. My eyes are instantly drawn to the first flaw I see—a spot of black ink tattooed on her inner thigh. Then they’re drawn to the second, a wicked scar that wraps from her stomach to her back. It makes the slash on my ribs look like the result of a minor scratch.
I freeze—just for a split second—long enough for her to notice me gawking. Her eyebrows raise.
“Uh, sorry,” I say, flustered. I’d heard she’d been in a bad accident, the one that left her with that limp. “I didn’t mean to stare, I was just—” I was just wrong, I don’t say.
She runs her hand over it. “It’s pretty startling the first time you see it. I used to hide it. A year ago, you wouldn’t have caught me dead in a two-piece, but now…”
“Now what?” I ask, trying to follow.
“Now that she and Reyn are boning all the time, she’s a little less insecure,” Georgia pipes in, securing the other tie. “That’s what having a boyfriend who worships the ground you walk on can do for a girl.”
“It’s not just Reyn,” Vandy says, eyes rolling, “although that’s a part of it. I’m just in a better place now. I mean, everyone knows about the accident, so why bother hiding it? And Reyn… well, yeah, he makes me feel pretty damn sexy.” She gathers her hair up to tie it back. “Plus, the scars on Reyn’s back are pretty bad, and he’s still—”
“Your boyfriend has bad scars on his back?”
She goes still, eyes jumping to mine. “Uh, yeah?”
“Are people weird and nosy about it?” I wonder, elaborating, “Like, I mean, your group of friends.”
Vandy’s expression turns shuttered and hard. When she speaks, her voice is as cold as her eyes. “Not until just now.”
I feel my head jerk back in surprise. Holy shit, the sweet little spoiled girl has some serious claws. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just curious.”
Georgia awkwardly jumps in, “I think most everyone’s already seen them by now. It’s not a big deal.”
This doesn’t make his girlfriend look any less like she wants to kick me out, so I think fuck it. If these are the people I’m going to be spending my year with, then maybe Reyn and Vandy have it right. Best to just put it out there and get it over with. I follow Vandy’s lead and pull my hair up into a ponytail, exposing my back.
Then I turn to put my clothes away, shoving them roughly into my bag.
When I turn back, Vandy’s just staring at me, mouth parted. It only lasts a moment before she smoothly recovers. “I was just saying that... you know, people don’t actually care. Reyn’s scars don’t detract from his looks at all.” Her smile is small and sad and vaguely apologetic.
Georgia latches onto this with gusto. “They really, really, really don’t.” She sighs, then makes an apologetic face at her friend. “Sorry. You know I think you and Reyn are end game, but your boy is super hot. Me? I’m still looking for my knight in shining armor. Something tells me he’s not going to go to Preston, but I keep trying anyway.”
“Well,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. I think Vandy just told me I’m still pretty or something. “I’m not looking for my knight or any kind of end game. I just want to graduate and move on with my life. Guys are not on my radar right now.”
Vandy and Georgia stare at me, look at one another, then burst out laughing.
“What?”
Georgia asks, “What exactly is going on with you and Sebastian?”
My lips pull back in a sneer. “Hatred and resentment? He’s an egotistical creep, who for some reason enjoys bothering me.”
“I see the way you look at him,” Vandy argues, and I gape at her.
“Like I want to stab him in the dick?”
She chews her lip pensively for a moment. “Yeah, actually. But there’s just a vibe.”
Georgia agrees, “For someone like Bass, the line between fighting and fucking is pretty thin. I’m not saying the girls around here are pushovers, but he probably isn’t used to one who fights back.” Georgia says. “Like that ice! Oh my god. Leaving that in his locker was inspired.”
“Wait, you’re the one who put that in his locker?” Vandy asks. “Reyn told me about it.”
“Well, Georgia knew his combination,” I say defensively. “And he deserved it.”
“See? That’s what I mean.” Georgia points at me. “He’s good-looking, popular, and comes from a wealthy and influential family. He’s fun but loyal. And fuck, that boy gives the best head. A Preston girl will do anything for that combination, but he’s made it perfectly clear that he’s not into Preston girls.”
“Whoa, whoa, back up.” I hold up my hand. “Did you say he’s good at head? You two hooked up?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, a few times. No sex. Just fun. It started as a…” She glances at Vandy, whose expression is blank. “Well, it was like a dare, I guess. But he’s not what I’m looking for and it’s pretty obvious I’m not what he’s looking for.”
A flicker of emotion burns in my chest at this admission. I like Georgia and have no reason not to trust her. She’s been really helpful to me since I arrived. If she says that she and Sebastian hooked up and everything is cool between them, it gives me pause. But that’s not all I’m feeling. There’s a burning ember of something else. Jealousy.
Not about her being with Sebastian. We all had lives before I came here. No, I’m jealous with the ease that she talks about it all. If only it was that simple to cave to someone like that. Just hook up with no trepidation. To let them see you at your most vulnerable. To let them touch you like that, want you, like it’s no big thing. There’s no way I could do it.