Just like how I expected it to happen, it's nearly impossible to avoid bumping into Kyle in school.

Almost every time I pick up my books from the locker, he's there, but we don't talk. With eyes barely meeting mine, he grabs his stuff, shoves the locker like he's hitting a punching bag at the gym, and stomps away. Even when I join my classmates for lunches in the cafeteria, I find him sitting at the tables meant for the most popular kids in school. I see Taylor there too, and he often gives me a friendly wave from across the room.

Of course, Kyle notices this and his scowl deepens.

But he still refuses to look at me.

It's not like we are purposely avoiding each other like the plague. As far as I know, he's refusing to acknowledge my existence, whereas I'm at a constant loss of how to explain things to him when I, myself, do not even know the entire story about my past.

Maybe some things are better off with him not knowing. If my old self has really done him wrong, it's better he hates me and channels his anger towards me instead of others.

On a separate note, the limelight of me being the new girl in school has dimmed. Perhaps because I'm way too quiet, average-looking and always wearing my oversized sweaters and comfy jeans, nobody seems to pay much attention to me. Apart from a couple of classmates who are nice enough to ask me to join them for lunches or group projects, I barely mingle with the rest. I'm content living in my own space and observing people as they busied around me.

I wonder what being normal feels like.

Halfway through Calculus class, I take a quick trip to the toilet. When I push the door open, I skid to a stop. To my discovery, a sound is coming from the end, right down to the last cubicle.

A sob.

It carries on for a few more minutes. I can choose to ignore it, but I decide not to. Whoever is behind that door may need some help, and if I walk away, it will only leave me with a gnawing feeling at the back of my head.

I step closer to the cubicle until I'm facing the door. "Hello?" I call out to the person on the other side. "Are you alright?"

Silence answers me, but a response comes a few seconds later.

"Go away."

Half-expecting that to happen, I sigh. "You can't expect me to leave you behind like this."

The toilet flushes before the cubicle's door pulls open swiftly, revealing a girl with purple hair streaks in her raven hair. Dressed in an all tight and black outfit of jacket and jeans, she looks every bit like a female biker. With that downright intimidating glare she's shooting at me, she's by far the toughest-looking girl I've ever encountered in this school.

But the tears on her face ruined that very image.

"Geez, you annoying lass," she snaps at me angrily. "There you have it—the Slut's crying face. Happy? Now you can go out there and tell the entire world about it."

My face scrunches up in confusion at her accusation. "Why would I do that?"

The girl glowers at me through her swollen, red-rimmed eyes. "Isn't that why you came here?"

My frown deepens. "Of course not!"

I move closer to her, but the girl takes a reflexive step backwards and narrows her eyes at me with suspicion. She looks at me cautiously, like she's waiting for me to pounce on her, but she's wrong. Pulling out a packet of tissues from my back pocket, I dab at the tears dotting the edges of her eyes. Even her mascara has smeared from all the crying.

She's astonished by my actions. She stands there unmoving, unable to stop blinking her eyes at me repeatedly with a stiff expression.

"What. Are. You. Doing?"

"What do you think?" I continue to wipe off the remaining traces of eyeliner and mascara from her face. "You can't be going around like this looking like a vengeful ghost."

"Oof. Wouldn't that be a lovely sight?" The girl sniffs loudly, but there's a newfound determination swirling in her eyes. "Think I should grab a knife and chase after my mom's newfound boyfriend like Chucky instead?" she asks. "He's the reason she's been cursing at me the past few weeks for not wanting to meet him. Screw that shit about becoming one big, happy family."

I try to suppress the small chuckle that's rising in my throat. It's amusing how she was crying a moment ago, but looking as tough as a lioness right now. As if she's ready to take on the world.

"Well, you look like the part now, but if you're intending to ask me to be your alibi to escape from the police later on, I'll have to decline."

She snorts. "Traitor."

Grabbing the tissues from my hands, she heads for the sink to splash her own face with water and starts re-applying her makeup. When she looks more presentable, she licks her dry lips and smoothes her hair. Her eyes stare at me in the mirror to study my face.

"Oh." She finally seems to realize something. "You're the new girl that people are talking about."

In response, I shoot her a wry smile.

She shrugs casually, applying lip gloss on her lips. "Our school's population is small, but it's not my fault. I can't remember faces. I only make the effort if the people are worth remembering."

She turns to meet my gaze with a tilted head, looking thoughtful for a few seconds. "But you. Maybe you can be the first face I'll remember properly. What's your name?"

"Riley."

"Cool. I'm Blaire. You're one hundred percent ain't kidding when you said you aren't here because the others told you to?"

"No. Why?"

"Because I might just have to kick your butt if you're lying to me. And...I'm intending to kidnap you."

***

When Blaire means 'kidnapping', this isn't the abduction scene I had in mind.

Ever since our abrupt encounter in the toilet, we've been hanging out after school and during breaks. Despite how vastly different our personalities are, we hit it off immediately. I find out that she's the same age as me and a grade above me. Just like Kyle.

When she questions why I'm lagging in my studies, I tell her they homeschooled me in the past.

"That sounds boring," she tells me before peering into my face closely. "And I know I've said this several times before, but I swear you look familiar. Are you sure you've never been to Lakeshore before?"

I shrug and look away, still trying to keep up with my story. "People say we've at least 7 doppelgangers in the world."

I wince at the way my lies are slipping past my lips like I'm a natural-born actress. I wish I could tell Blaire or someone the truth, but deep down, I know I'm not ready to open up to anybody just yet.

She's not completely convinced, but she drops the subject. "Hm, maybe."

My new friend has a habit of rambling on, but I'm not complaining. I quite enjoy being in her company. Most of the time, she's the one yapping away in our conversations, with me dropping in a few remarks here and there. She doesn't mind the fact that I'm the polar opposite of her, that I'm quiet and reserved.

The reason she's hanging out with me is because she appreciates how I don't judge her like the rest of the people in our school. They think she's weird from her daily Gothic outfits and often calls her a witch. According to the rumors, her mother has a notorious reputation of sleeping with many men in this town, which is where Blaire earns her nickname from—'the Slut'.

She cocks her head at me and asks me for a millionth time. "You still will not run away from me?"

I frown at her. "I told you before—I don't really care what other people think about you."

Because she's a few centimeters taller than me, she makes cooing noises and rubs my head like I'm a little child. "Oh, you little cutie. I knew I was right about you when I first met you."

I shoot her a look of confusion. "If I recall correctly, you almost murdered me with those eyes of yours."

She laughs at the memory. We turn around the corner and walk down the stairs from the third floor of the school's building.

But halfway down, I slipped on the step.

Maybe I've always been a clumsy person. Even after two months of physiotherapy sessions, I still trip over things or experience a sudden jerk in my knees. And right now, this is one of those moments.

Blaire reaches out to catch my left arm, but before she does, somebody else grabs my right arm and steadies me on my feet.

I turn to whoever it is to give my thanks, but the words lodge in my throat when I meet a pair of deep forest eyes instead.

Kyle.

I hold my breath, feeling my heart racing. But it isn't because of how I almost fell. It's from the intense way he's staring at me, unblinking. His fingers grip my arm tightly, as if he's afraid if he lets go, I might fall again. He's standing so close to me I can feel the tickle of his warm breath against my cheek and the slight scent of cologne he uses. He smells like mint and lavender, a scent that's familiar, and washes over me with warmth.

I can't explain.

However, the moment doesn't last long. Without a word, his grip on me loosens. He releases me, turns and walks away without a word.

When he's gone, Blaire takes my other arm and asks me in concern. "Are you alright?"

I nod and we resume our way. Throughout the entire time, I can't shake away the image of how Kyle has looked at me. How his hatred for me flickers to a flash of concern in his eyes, one that quickly hides from me as if he's terrified of me discovering him.

The changes in his behavior confuse me. It's like he's hiding among his 7 doppelgangers and I do not know which one of them is him.

❖

Dear Riley,

Did you ever have a friend?