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Good girls don’t cry.
Good girls don’t let people see them weak.
But it’s been too much over the years.
When we were eleven, we went to one of our mothers’ gatherings and I might have followed Daniel from afar.
Sometimes, I just want to watch. It’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m not going to make him, I just want to see him.
I saw him steal the cake and take it to the other boys. Our eyes met and he paused, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Don’t you dare say anything, Peaches.”
That’s what he’s called me since we were eight, but only when he’s not mad at me. Only when he actually talks to me instead of ignoring me.
And I think I’ve fallen in love with the fruit even more since that day.
“I won’t,” I whispered, smiling.
It was one of the times I felt so goddamn proud. Because Daniel was entrusting me with a secret. We had something in common and I intended to keep it.
However, soon after, someone tattled on him and he thought it was me. I shook my head and went to him, but he pushed me until my back hit a tree.
“Stay the hell away from me, Nicole, or I’m going to hurt you next time.”
“It…wasn’t me.”
“Sure it wasn’t. Is that why you smiled after saying you won’t. You like making people trust you just so you can hurt them, don’t you?”
My eyes stung, but I couldn’t allow the tears to escape. I didn’t let Daniel see me cry when he hurt me before and that won’t change. “You’re a bloody idiot.”
“And you’re a bitch.”
That’s what he started to call me after that. A bitch.
It got worse when my stepsister, Astrid, came to live with us after her mother died when we were fifteen.
Uncle Henry told me to take her with me to Chloe’s birthday party so she’d make new friends.
And guess who the only friend she made was?
Daniel.
They fell in the pool together and then got out laughing and disappeared to where I couldn’t find them.
Since then, they’ve been inseparable.
Since then, I’ve been forced to see him come to our house, make me feel invisible, and only care about Astrid.
Sometimes, it’s like he doesn’t see me. And the only time he does is when I’m mean to Astrid.
Mum dislikes her because she’s middle class and not from our social standing. I didn’t really care about her at the beginning, but she just had to get close to Daniel.
She had to be friends with him in one freaking day while I’ve been hopelessly trying for seven years.
One day, I hid her sketchbook, just because I wanted her to fret. But it was Daniel who got mad at me, got in my face and told me, “Is your life that boring that you find pleasure in making other people’s lives hell? Why do you have to be a bitch?”
Because he only sees me when I’m being one.
