Page 31 of Play Dirty
I should never have been there, but I can’t stop watching.
Not back then.
Not now.
Not when everything in my life feels dead.
And she’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.
Chapter Twelve
Shiloh
After hours of trying to mold my pain into something tangible, I gave up. It’s getting late, and as much as I want to continue to grieve and isolate myself, I can’t. It’s not my reputation. It’s not who I am.
At least not inside these walls.
There are expectations, especially when you’re one of the chosen ones, a crowned one. The standard of what a woman should be. I let out a sigh, my shoulders sagging as I walk towards the door, hoping I don’t see anyone. I’ve been avoiding my friends and even Delta Kappa— I just don’t have it in me to pretend. However, if I’m going to find out what happened to June, I need to be around the circle. By the time I leave the studio, the sun has already set, and the chill of fall evenings is in full effect. I quickly throw on my school jacket and fold my arms in front of my chest.
It’s fucking cold.
For the first time in a while, I enjoy the silent walk to my dorm. Keeping my head down and enjoying the sound of the leaves as they rustle on the ground. From a distance, I spot a figure crouched by my doorsteps. The silhouette blends amongst the shadows. My heart begins to flutter, my stomach knotting as I slow down my pace. Quietly approaching the trespasser, when suddenly the figure shifts.
From the small bulb that illuminates the door, and as the string lights around the tiny garden out front flicker on, I recognize the figure as Michaela Santores— one of June’s friends.
“Hey,” I call out as she crouches near the small fairy garden June had built. Black strands of hair fall over the side of her face as she places small trinkets near the small tree house.
“Hey. Hope you don’t mind.” She replies, not bothering to look back at me.
I approach her slowly, trying to see the new additions, wondering if she was the one who left the snacks the day of the funeral. Only one person besides June knows what my favorite snacks are, and that person is somewhere in the Caribbean. Tatiana Vargas, the completion of our holy trinity.
The other girl who loved June as much as I did… I just wish she were able to come back in time for the funeral. I could have used the support. I’m sure she could have, too. Snapping out of the jumble of fragmented thoughts, I catch Michaela staring.
“You know she talked a lot about you?”
I quirk a brow. “She did?”
She dips her chin slowly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Yeah, I have never been a fan of popular girls.” Scanning her hand down her body, she points out her attire. Despite the strong uniform policy, her uniform was cut shorter, pins adorned her jacket, and her tall black socks had red ruffles, unlike the white socks we are supposed to wear. “I don’t quite fit in here, and you might be wondering where I’m going with this. It's simple. I don’t like you, don’t understand how someone nicknamed the ice queen could be friends with someone as kind as June.”
Her words are harsh, but they don't offend me. It’s not the first time someone has said something like that to me. This isn’t new. No oneunderstood our dynamic, especially when Tati came into the mix. All three of us are so different, but still the same.
“We were friends because it’s just who she was.” My hand instinctively moves to the bracelet I keep around my wrist, the one that now contains a book charm - locket. With a piece of her hair, the only part I will ever carry of her.
Michaela is silent for a moment before she lets out a breath. It’s like she’s struggling with something heavy– something unspoken. Just when I think she will just leave without telling me, she rises to her feet. Dusting her hands to remove the leftover dirt.
“Do you know what happened to June?”
The question itself didn’t surprise me. It was the ominous look on Michaela’s features, the way she said it, that caused my body to shiver. It was as if she were sure of foul play. “Why?”
She sucks in her lower lip, looking around the lot to make sure we are alone. A shiver runs up my spine, coiling around my throat.
“Listen, a lot fucked up shit happens when there’s money involved,” she winces, looking at me as if she can see my secrets. The mask I keep perfectly in place. “But this is—”
“Do you know something?” I interrupt, stepping closer.
Michaela lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, she was distant. Weird.” Shaking her head, she tries to find the words. “Something was off with her, you know? And then I walked in on her during a call; she was scared.”
“Scared?”
