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Again, not a surprise, they’re both excellent test takers.
They even went to the same college. When Arrow got a scholarship for playing soccer at a college in California, Sarah made sure to end up at the same school. They even picked out an apartment off campus so they could live together.
And when Arrow graduated a semester early – no surprise there; he’s a genius – and got picked the January of last year to go pro and play for the LA Galaxy, they continued their relationship long distance. Not only that, Sarah made sure to complete her degree in Public Relations and follow him to LA, a few months later.
Now, she works with the PR firm that represents Arrow’s team.
See? They’re perfect for each other.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
They’ve conquered every obstacle in their path to get to this point where they have a nice, expensive apartment in LA. He plays the game he loves and she has a bright future in PR.
They belong together.
So where do I fit in?
What is my role here, other than being this evil, witchy girl who wants her older sister’s boyfriend?
I don’t think I have any role except to be the villain in their love story.
The girl who has violated all the codes.
The betrayer.
Who feels warm at the sight of her sister’s boyfriend. Who shivers when he smirks. Whose heart fills with an immense joy when she sees him on TV, scoring a goal and who wants to fly over to him and hug him and tell him how wonderful he is.
How freaking amazing.
Some girls fall in love and a boy catches them. He waits for them at the bottom of the cliff with open arms.
And then there are other girls.
Girls like me.
We’re the girls in love with the boys who belong to someone else. We’re the girls in doomed love.
When girls like us fall, there’s no one to catch us. Least of all that boy for whom we’ve taken the fall.
We’re the girls with secrets and witchy hearts. We’re the girls who listen to sad songs. Who slow dance to them with tears streaming down our faces, even as a smile lingers on our lips. Who cry in our pillows at night and who ride our sunshine-yellow bicycle along the empty, desolate, miserable places, where no one goes.
We’re the girls who run away in the middle of the night.
Like I was doing.
Because I’d overheard a conversation between Leah and him. Well, only Leah’s side of it, but I heard enough to understand that Arrow was getting ready to propose to Sarah. He’d bought a ring and everything.
That’s when I decided to run.
Because they’re getting married.
Married.
I mean, I always knew that they would. But something about the talk of a ring really shook me up.
Arrow was going to propose to my sister.
She would obviously say yes, and they’d have a wedding day. Kids and a family.
Like a voyeur, I’ve been there for every moment of their love story.
I’ve watched them fall in love. I’ve watched them be in love for years. I’ve watched them go out on dates, go to the prom together. I’ve watched them hanging out together in the backyard. I’ve heard them whisper and talk out in the hallway, just by my bedroom. I’ve watched them leave for California. I’ve watched them when they’d come to visit over the holidays.
I’ve watched it all like the worst sister in the world.
I’ve watched him like the worst sister in the world.
I’ve watched him, craved him, loved him in secret.
I’d been the witch long enough. I had to do the right thing and get my toxic presence out of their lives.
Before they got married.
Right that very second.
And that’s why I stole that money and I was running away.
But I got caught and now, I’m stuck here.
Until another opportunity arises.
When it does, I’ll take it. I’ll steal again and I’ll run again.
I’m not a thief but there are worse crimes than stealing money.
There’s no way that I’m staying close to them any longer. And I’m definitely not attending their wedding.
Not at all.
Because aside from the fact that their wedding should be full of people whose hearts are pure, there’s this other thing, this other urge in me.
A very strong urge.
A dangerous urge.
I got it the moment I heard the word ‘ring.’ I got it the moment it dawned on me that he was going to be hers.
Irrevocably hers.
Forever and ever.
It’s an urge to burn down all my inhibitions of eight years and say: choose me.
Choose me, Arrow.
Pick me.
Yeah, that’s what I was thinking the night I was running away. I was thinking about how badly I wanted to say those words to him.
How badly I wanted him for myself.
How badly I wanted my sister’s boyfriend – soon to be fiancé – for myself.
And God, he’s coming back now and he’s injured.
