picture: mirrorball; and when I break it's in a million pieces

eight

Betty inspected the mess in her room. Shirts, shoes, swimsuits, scarves were pouring out of her bottomless suitcase. Unpacking's a bitch. It's been a day and a half since she was back from her vacation. She had spent the entirety of yesterday napping and chatting with her mom, delaying the inevitable torturous work for today. Now, she felt exhausted just by looking at her belongings. Her reluctance to work and the last bits of summer laziness creeping into her again.

That, and James.

She had not stopped thinking about him for a single moment. If not directly, he always remained in the shadows of her ever present mind, taunting and haunting her with cruel flashes from the day of prom. With some quality time away from town, she had done a lot of thinking; deciding to reconcile with him as soon as she can. In the hindsight, she understood the reasons for their fight were quite childish and immature. She can do better.

But there was something else. Call it instinct, or gut feeling, Betty felt the air change around her. She had also been thinking about this particular feeling all summer but never had the guts to face it headfirst. She blamed it on her excessive thinking mind, that always assumes the worst of people. Something about the way James talked to August that night made her insides churn. She felt it then. She feels it now.

Taking a deep breath and forcing her thoughts to simmer down, she plucks out her cardigan from the heap of clothes. Her fingers graze the soft material, first over the pale white threads of wool, then the patches of stars. She lifts the fabric to her nose and inhales.

His scent faded away over the summer.

The door next to her bursts open, taking her by surprise. She jumps a little as her Mom gives her a quizzical look, then surveys the room.

"You better clean that up, young lady," her mother motions to the clutter in the room. Before Betty could reply, she continued, "There's someone at the door for you."

All at once she could feel her pulse throbbing in her throat. "Who? Is it James?"

"No. It's a girl. I'm sure I know her but can't recall her name." She appeared to be thinking for a moment, "She's definitely not a friend type. Do you want me to tell you're not home?"

"What? No, mom. Why would I do that?"

"Just a suggestion." Her mom chuckled and briefly raised her hands in a surrender motion. "You look like you need the help."

So it was apparent that she was freaking out. For a weird moment, Betty thought of August. Curiosity made her drop the cardigan and follow her mother down the stairs.

"Tell me if you want to organize a getaway," her mom winked and left for the kitchen. With her heart in her mouth for reasons she couldn't come up with, she walked the short distance to her door and stepped out. It was the last person Betty was expecting to show up at her front porch.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Jeez. Nice to see you too, Miss Perfect," Inez Reynolds said with an exaggerated roll of her pretty eyes.

No wonder her mother was acting like that. Inez was the self proclaimed queen bee slash gossip girl of their high school and Betty couldn't find a single reason as to why she was talking to her. They were not friends by a far reach. She tends to stay away from Inez and her crowd. So if it was one of her usual schemes, and she wanted Betty to get involved somehow, she wouldn't hesitate to slam the door on her face. But Inez said nothing and kept looking at her face blankly, occasionally fumbling with her freshly manicured nails.

Moments passed and the situation turned beyond awkward. Betty raised one eyebrow and tapped her feet against the porch. She was about to head back inside when Inez spoke suddenly.

"You didn't tan at all." She blurted, "Didn't Daddy Number Two have a sun at his farm?"

Betty squinted her eyes. "How do you know I was at–" Inez raised one perfect brow. "Okay. Wrong question. Of course you knew."

When she didn't say anything further, Betty sighed and answered her. "I was mostly indoors. What are you doing here, Inez?"

"Visiting a friend," Inez shrugged but made a disgusted expression. "Okay. Not friend. Acquaintance. I have some business with you. Can I come in?"

Betty didn't have an opportunity to answer her, as Inez slipped past her through the door. Not in the mood for one of her theatrics, she hoped whatever it was, would be done soon. If she was to take a guess, Betty would assume it was something to do with needing her help for the summer project. Wouldn't be the first time students have randomly come up to her with the task. Still, she didn't think Inez of all people would fit into that category.

Betty waited for Inez to speak but she was busy scrutinizing the framed pictures in their living room. A sudden flashback of her father seeped into her brain and she gulped the thought down. Inez eyed her mother in the kitchen and made a face.

"Can we talk more private?"

"That's my mother," Betty defended, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yeah, and not mine. I'm not comfortable. And I wanna get this over with fast."

This was torturous. Betty motioned for Inez to follow and the pair made it out the back door into the garden. Betty's garden was large enough to hold a party and it was her favourite place in the house. She usually read novels or did her school work at the swing chair. On occasions, like Thanksgiving or Christmas, when they would have some family over, they always dined in the garden; decorations and laughter all around. When she was young, her father would set up an inflatable pool and they would stay in it all day, eating and drinking. She didn't like to think back on those days.

Now Inez walked around the fresh grass in her stilettos, staring up at the sky, at the bench, at the swing. Anywhere but her.

"So how's James doing?"

The question knocked all air out of Betty and she stumbled over the threshold, her hand shooting up to grasp at something to regain her balance. Two months worth of thoughts came rushing back to her, building up the panic. Any other time, Betty would regard it as a harmless question. But she'd been having doubts for a while now. But most of all, this was Inez. Inez, the newspaper. Showing up at her house. If anyone could confirm the reason for her tempestuous emotions, it was her. Still, controlling every last muscle on her face, Betty exhibited a nonchalant expression.

"James is fine. Why do you ask?" Betty leaned against the swing chair for support. Inez looked at her now and pursed her lips. Something about her gaze made Betty feel naked. Like she was watching right through her.

"When did you last see him?" She quizzed again and sat on the bench, her hands professionally clasped on her lap.

"Any reason you're interrogating me?"

"Well, obviously." She rolled her eyes, "I'll get to it when you stop interrupting me."

"Just say what you're here to say, Ine–"

She cut her off. "Did you break up with him?"

Betty clamped her lips shut. In all honesty, she herself didn't know the answer. She hasn't known answers to anything since the night of the prom and it frustrated her beyond measure. And here was Inez. Trying to get into her business for her own pleasure. There's no way in hell she was making a cavernous rumour out of her relationship with James by confiding in Inez. But instead of telling her to go fuck herself, Betty found herself telling the truth. Because a part of her wanted to know what she feared was already true.

"No. We didn't break up." She paused, "We just fought for a stupid reason, I guess."

"Well, ouch," Inez whispered to herself but Betty heard it nonetheless.

"Why?" She was anxiously desperate now, her heart picking up the rhythmic pace, "What happened?"

"So, I'm not someone who sugar coats shitty situations and tell you it's gunna be a happy ending and you'll ride off into the sunset or whatever. I don't think I can even console you, to be honest. The fact that I'm here actually speaks volumes for a person like me, now that I think about it but –"

"Inez!" She snapped her eyes to Betty, "Spill."

"James cheated on you."

~•~

It's no secret that Inez isn't trustworthy, or barely even reliable for that matter. Scandalmonger is her second nature. She thrives in gossips and high school drama, and has done her fair share of spreading false rumours, cleaving relationships, and publicizing them. Betty would have called it a big fat bluff and thrown her out of her garden, if not for one minuscule reason.

Inez didn't tell her anything she didn't already know. She only confirmed it.

It was bizzarly out of fashion for Inez to directly approach Betty. Knowing her as she does, Inez would prefer to call Betty out between a hoard of people and snicker comments as she passed. Upon questioning her, she merely shrugged. Besides, there was hardly anything anyone could do to stop the rumours from reaching her own ears. Apparently, quite a lot of people were aware of the situation. Everyone from her grade, some juniors too. The rumours spread like fire in the last one week, but Betty was 'saved' because she'd been away – Inez' words. She doesn't feel all that saved now.

What lacerated her heart more than she could put into words, was that it wasn't a one time thing. It wasn't one desperate moment of weakness and one ginormous mistake. He chose it. Over and over and over. For the whole summer. And he had ostensibly gotten so comfortable, that they went out in public freely. Any discreet measures they enacted on deemed worthless by the end of the month. They got used to each other's company.

They. James and August.

August.

Betty knew August the way everyone at school knew each other. Passing through hallways between classes, sharing a few periods together, coming across her at lunch. The only attribute Betty for sure knew about her is that she is an artist. She puts up stalls of her artwork and canvases during Creative Weeks; and teachers occasionally take her assistance with decorations and murals. She didn't categorize August as someone mean or menacing. Someone who would steal your boyfriend. She didn't think the sweet girl had it in her.

Or maybe she doesn't know anyone anymore.

~•~