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“Slut. Whore. Liar. Fraud. Bitch was the top word, but I don’t take that as an insult.”
“But why?” I stress and watch her shrug.
“My mom probably found a way to spread my name and image around to say I’m a slut and got my older brother jailed to take his place or something.”
I’m speechless. All I can do is stare at her while she takes a generous sip of her PSL.
“I didn’t call my parents last night. Was gonna do it today… but after that… I don’t think I will.” She looks at me again, but I see the shift in those eyes, the tears that swell in their serene beauty.
“Blair…” I move back to the island and place the book on the stool so I can wrap my arms around her. “Don’t you dare let her win! Your mother wants to make you miserable when you’re the victim. Don’t let her try to make you regret doing what was right for you.”
“I keep telling myself that,” she confesses. “But… the walk of shame is hard when you’re alone, Ophelia.”
“You’re not alone!” I emphasize and lean back to cup her cheeks. “From now on, we’re a unit. They’ll realize if they mess with you, they mess with me, and no one wants to get caught messing with me!” I vow and wipe away her tears with my thumbs. “We’re partners, roommates. We’re going to cruise through N.M.U. and prove to your disgusting mother and your dad that you not only deserve a spot here, but you’re strong, powerful, and a fucking survivor!”
She slowly nods her head and sniffs a few times.
“I am a survivor,” she repeats.
“A fucking survivor!”
“A fucking survivor! Thanks, Ophelia.”
“Always,” I assure her with a tight embrace. “Don’t call them. Let them think whatever the fuck they want. If either of them cared, they would find a way to come here themselves and see you.”
“I feel that’s against the rules,” she notes.
My lips lift at the corners as I pull back to look into her eyes.
“Sometimes, the rules are meant to be broken.”
Don’t worry, Blair. In this new space of trials, you’ll have someone who always has your back.
16
THE OFFICIAL DAY OF THRIVING DISASTER
~OPHELIA~
“AZRAEL!”
We both cheer at the sight of the 6’3” male, who’s further ahead. We come to a stop in shock when he turns around to give us a calm but surprised look.
“Ophelia. Blair. You two made it.” He doesn’t sound surprised by our survival as he moves through the crowd of new and old students to head back to where we’re standing.
Looking like baffled fools.
“What in tarnation happened to you?” Blair shrieks in horror.
I’m still trying to figure out what war this man went through to look like he survived a generational disaster.
Azrael tries to smile, but the poor man looks like his soul was tortured for years.
“I look THAT bad?”
Blair gestures over at me.
“Ophelia can’t even find words to describe you!”
