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____________Pugsley/Lee____________

Dad once told me that you only drink tequila in excess if you want to do one of two things--make babies or embarrass yourself in front of your friends.

This was two days ago and I clearly wasn't listening.

Head screaming with my stomach rioting in protest at the sudden movement as I turned in bed to hit the alarm on my phone, I was regretting my choices from the night before. So so much regret. I couldn't remember the half of it. Somewhere after the seventh shot, that's about when my brain just said nope and checked out for the rest of the night. But there's parts--sections of shame and awkward flirting that I remember. And how I wish I could fucking forget them.

It was an "end of summer" party one of Jug's friend's were throwing and he didn't want to go stag so Wen and I joined him. The excuse was that we'd get to meet some of our peers that we'd be going to school with. Wednesday had gone postal one too many times at West Adams Prep after we both got ourselves booted from John Marshall. As such, mom put her foot down because dad was too much of a softie and decided to enroll the three of us at her old charter school in the Palisades--our consequences of our antics looping poor Bertie into this mess against his will which he still hasn't forgiven either of us for.

None of us were excited to say the least. Even more so after last night.

Why mom thought this was a brilliant idea, I had no clue. Her perception was warped because she had fond memories of that gilded cage since it was where she met dad; the charming but brilliant inner city boy that swept her off her feet much to her parents dismay. And while that was all well and good, none of us could see the reasoning behind sending us there just because Wen was a closet pyromaniac and I had an authority issue. They could have picked any other school. There were enough kids in East LA to fill the innumerable schools that had been popping up left and right. And we would have been close to our friends--our community which both mom and dad always stressed the importance of.

But maybe that was the problem, we'd be close to our friends. The same friends that sort of--kind of--encouraged our bad behavior.

It wasn't all of them. Just a few of them. But it was enough of them that dad would get into screaming matches with me about my recent behavior then storm off cursing in broken Spanish while mom stood there exasperated.

So it was off to the bougie borough of the Palisades with us.

Fantastic.

Have a good day at school, honey! Xavier texted me as I rolled out of bed with my contacts glued to my eyeballs and my shirt from the night before smelling like cigarettes. You guys gotta wear uniforms?? Please say you have too and there's an ugly tie or something.

"Shit, sorry," I grumbled after bumping into Bert in the hallway when he came padding out of the bathroom half dead and blinking back the sleep that had dried up his eyes. No. There's no uniform. I told Xav. I'd hang myself if there was. Jfc I really don't want to go. You think they'd call the house if I ditched?

Your mom would beat you to death so fast.

Rip man.

Slipping out of my shirt, I found a white smear of something on my jeans--totally confused what it could even be. Looking up at my phone after a minute, I answered back quick. Ttyl. Gotta shower

Later. Remember to scrub behind your ears and between you're toes. Gotta be squeaky clean for the body snatchers.

*your. And fuck you. Later.

Music on shuffle, I jumped in under the cool stream of water hoping it'd help wake me up and provide some sobering effects since my stomach was still knocking at the back of my throat, reminding me what bile and chili cheese fries tasted like when they came back up.

Last night was a bad idea. A shit idea. But I did get to have a little bit of fun. I think. Again, the memory bank was on strike and I couldn't blame it. But from the threads I could pull on to piece some sort of picture together, I remember there was a brunette with violet lipstick and glitter eyeshadow that couldn't keep her hands to herself and kept grabbing at my junk. Tucked away in the corner closest to the slider door that connected to the backyard was a blonde that looked entirely uncomfortable in her own skin. Wouldn't make much eye contact with anyone as she hung on the wall like a moth but didn't look away when we locked eyes from across the room.

Did she go to our school? My school, I guess.

Or was she a friend of someone's from another charter or something?

She didn't seem too social. Didn't look like she wanted to talk to anyone either. Anyone except for the other blonde I saw that came up next to her, whispered something in her ear, and rubbed her shoulder before they both walked outside. Maybe it was her sister. The second one did look a little older than the shy one.

"Hurry up," Wednesday commanded from the other side of the bathroom door as she slammed her tiny though mighty fist against the center panel. "I need to shower too."

"Use the downstairs shower."

"Mom's getting ready for work. Hurry up or I'll drag you out myself."

Mouthing her words to myself, I rolled my eyes but didn't agitate her further. My twin and mirror opposite, Wen was crank and slightly blood-thirsty in the mornings. It was even worse when we were kids and had to share a room while mom and dad renovated the house because I'm quick to rise with the sun whereas Wednesday would soon rather stab her eyes with needles than get up before noon. Her words, not mine. And because we had both been drinking last night I knew better than to antagonize her over something as trivial as a shower. I was reckless but I wasn't stupid.

She'd even cut the limbs off my favorite stuffed animal once when we were little because of a prank I had pulled on her while she was sleeping.

So getting lippy and dicky with Wen before noon was a no.

Putting my music on blast, I quickly washed up. Made sure to get the reek of beer and cigarettes off of me so mom wouldn't catch it when I kissed her bye on the way out. I didn't know what it was about moms, especially Hispanic mothers, but they could always catch three things--your bullshit, the sound or smell of you getting up to no good, and anything thrown their way as you tried to escape the wooden spoon or slipper they disciplined their kids with. And being the little shit I was from start to finish while lacking the cleverness of my evil twin, I had figured out the art of self-preservation post-screw up. Or, simply put, covering up my tracks as best as I could and praying that the patches hold.

Yelling at Wednesday when she came 'round again while I was singing along to "Maldita Pobreza" I clicked my tongue at her partly hollow threats to flush the downstairs toilet which would--thanks to the wacky plumbing of this old house--would scald me. Not banking at her exercising mercy this morning, I finished rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, did the tedious after-shower routine that came with having curly hair. Mousse and gel in so that I didn't look like a poodle by the afternoon, I shaved and took out my contacts with a sigh of relief. It was like they'd been glued to my irises and were only freed from where they'd stuck themselves to because of the steam and water as I washed my face.

Tossing them because those lenses were toasted now, I'd have to check my account later to see if I Joaquin's dad had deposited my check for last week. If he did then I'd buy a new contacts after class. If not, it was glasses for the next two weeks.

"Ooo, looking sexy papi," Bertie snarked as I came out of the bathroom wearing my glasses--his hair half dry with him smiling like a little shit wearing the Ghost Face pajama bottoms he got for Christmas and a Nirvana tee with holes in the neck. "Estas soltero?"

"Pinche pendejo."

Throwing the towel I was drying my hair with at him with a laugh when he flinched as it hit his face, I dodged Wen as she came barreling through. Chuckled and gave Bertie a half-serious grimace when the door slammed behind her. Looking at him of a second then the door then back at him, I snorted a laugh when he said I was driving us to school this morning. Single-celled brains think alike because I was just about to say the same since our sister was a menace on the road when she rage drove.

Switching my music on in my room, I finished getting ready for class. There was a moment of hesitation when I stood in front of my closet wondering what to wear. A moment when I considered trying to look the part so that I could blend in just a little and have a few less eyes on me during lectures. Everyone would figure it out quick enough that I wasn't from their tax bracket which was fine. I didn't want to be part of that to begin with. But high school sucks enough as it is and being a teenager nowadays was more mentally taxing than it was when my parents were seventeen. Between the constant stream of material that came from socials fueling trends and modes of thinking to the evolution of hive mind thinking that made it a crime to step out of the box, us three were marked for death the moment we got back our test scores that sat high enough on the scale for sender school kids that we were accepted in.

Jug and Reggie told me it wasn't too bad in the Palisades. That the viral strain of viciousness there was less biting than it was at Bel Air where sender school kids were openly alienated and looked down on. At least over in Palisades they made an attempt to mask their privilege and a portion of the student body didn't care about what part of the city their classmates came from or what they looked like--if they had the right clothes, the right memberships, the right cars, the right everything and anything. But that was only a fraction of them and the traumatized kid in me held their breath for a second as I recalled the vicious bullying I endured in elementary school and junior high because I was quiet, had a stutter, and didn't know a thing about upkeeping physical appearances. It was stupid to still freak out internally over things that happened years ago but human psychology is twisted and shit sticks with you when it's beaten into you like that.

But I wasn't that kid anymore and the reality of the situation was that a leopard could never change their spots. And trying to blend in and assimilate was impossible so why even bother?

I just had to make it through this year and then I'd be free. Wen and I already had our death pact to go to university together because it's what mom and dad wanted. We'd get our own place, go to classes together, work on our music with the band and just live our lives the way we wanted. And when Bertie graduated next he'd come to live with us too and the gang would be complete. Toni had even made a "manifesting" moodboard to hang up in her garage where we all practiced after school so we'd have a visual of our goals. A house to ourselves near Dogtown, guitar amps with colorful lightning bolts shooting out of them, polaroid's of us from parties and hangouts at Xav's, and cutout pictures of luchador chihuahua's because Toni loved the monsters and had asked if we could smuggle my gremlin, Bonita, out with us when Wen and I moved out for school.

Slipping into my tried and true black jeans that could use another patch-up job, I pulled on a clean white tee, grabbed a flannel and my hoodie because I could already hear mom saying "it gets cold over there so take your jacket." Shrugging the strap of my backpack over one shoulder, I snatched my set of car keys from the top of my dresser then headed downstairs. Kissing abuelita on the forehead as I passed by her in the living room, I said "morning" to abuelito's picture on the offerenda we kept up year round in the corner by the window that looked out into the garden.

"Mañana papá," I said as I patted dad's shoulder before setting my backpack down on the counter before squeezing past mom to get to the fridge.

Stopping me in my tracks with a gentle scolding about how I greeted dad but not her, I groaned with a slight smile while mom lamented over how she missed her angel boy that would always kiss her cheek first thing in the morning. Rolling my eyes, I hugged her. Gave her a kiss on the forehead with a shitty smirk when mom said I was growing up too fast and I told her I wasn't growing up too fast and that she was just getting shorter. Dad snorted a laugh while pretending not to be listening as he read the news.

"Incoming!" Bertie hollered as he came plowing through making a b-line for the fridge. Grabbing the leftover takeout from two days ago even though mom had made everyone breakfast, he stood there chewing on an eggroll for a second before swallowing. "What?"

Mom said nothing. Just huffed and smacked his shoulder as she walked by to go give dad a kiss.

"Remember," mom began as she sat down next to dad with his hand in hers right as Wen came in to join us in the kitchen, "you need to check in with the dean today before fifth period and your counselors."

"Wait, I have to talk to the dean?" Bertie stopped mid-bite with a look of offense. "Why?! I'm not the one that nearly burned down the school."

"It was a bathroom trashcan and I hardly came close to burning down the school," Wednesday retorted at the indirect assault on her honor and reputation. There was a reason the guys in the guys in the area called her pequeña psicópata. "The counselor already emailed Lee and I yesterday and told us we have a joint appointment with her during third period," she informed our parents--quashing moms worry that I'd ditch and Wednesday would sass her about it. After what happened at the close of junior year, we both knew better now. "She said she'll accompany us during our meeting with the dean. Your request, I assume?"

Mom popped a brow at her with the corners of her lips turned up into a slight smile. "No but I'm happy to know they're taking the initiative." Checking the clock on the wall, mom got up and kissed each of us on the forehead. "Time for school. Traffic likely won't be ideal so Lee--"

"I know," I cut her off already knowing where mom was going with this. "I've got my keys."

"Can I ride shotty?" Bert asked; shrugging his backpack up onto his shoulders while pulling the hem of his hoodie down. Looking between Wen and I as we stared at him for a hot second, he relented. "Fine. Sheesh, it was only a question. Don't have to go Shining sibs on me."

Shepherding us out of the kitchen and toward the front door because we were running behind now, mom ran down the list to make sure all three of us had our house keys, laptops, phone chargers, and wallets. Telling her to stop worrying about these little things would be a fools errand so we humored her and repeated "yes" as many times as needed. It was also nice having parents that worried about us to such a point. I had buddies whose moms gave them free range to come and go whenever they pleased and dads who didn't know they existed or worse.

"Wen gets to ride Spock so I'm dj'ing," Bertie stated sternly with his whole chest as we slide into our seats while he reached for the aux cord to plug his phone in. "Fight me."

Ignoring him, Wednesday slid her sunglasses up just a bit to unlock her phone screen then punched in the directions to campus. "Gross."

"What?" I asked, glancing over to her as I started up the truck.

"There's an Erewhon by the school."

"So they're free range grazers is what you're saying," Bertie joked while I snorted a short laugh. "Anyway, Bad Bunny or Tame Impala?"

"I vote neither," Wednesday droned. "You guys have overplayed them."

"No such thing. Also, you're not driving so..."

"I hate you."

"That sucks because I love you so much," Bertie cooed knowing he was poking at a sleeping bear as he smushed her cheeks between his palms from behind, the final straw coming when he pinched her nose and Wednesday growled while swatting at it. "Lee, choose."

"Un Verano."

"No, you've played that album all summer long," Wednesday protested.

But Bertie shouted over her saying "the man has spoken" as he hit play and Tarot began to play. Brushing of her complaints and stopping her as she reached for the volume to turn it down, he broke out into dance. Tapped at the back of my seat as we backed out of the driveway and began the hours long trek to the gilded glittering hellscape of the Palisades. Wednesday put her headphones on a minute later after punching the address into google maps on my phone so she could listen to her own music and nap on the drive over. This was the usual routine on most mornings though especially the ones she was feeling stabby on. So rather than getting into an argument with us she listened to her own music.

And doing one further than only that, she suddenly unbuckled at the stoplight and climbed into the backseat of the cab slapping at Bert in silent command to move over. He pivoted. Grumbled to her to stop putting her boot near his nuts even though she couldn't hear him with her headphones on.

Clicking his tongue while I shouted at both of them to put their seatbelts on, I hissed at Bert when he climbed over the center console right as the light turned green.

"Oye! Que la chingada?!" Dodging Bert's hand as it planted on my headrest, I slapped the back of his head while he laughed with that familiar shit-eating grin we all had. "Oye cabrón, dale, dale! La luz esta cambiando!"

"Cállate, estás gritando en mis oídos."

Threatening to smack him again but not following through, I rambled my slurs as I reminded myself that one day he'd have kids who were little shits just like him and I'd die laughing on the couch after parroting those words to him when he asked me for help with them. Break-checking him just for the hell of it, I got a hard flick to the back of my head from Wen but couldn't care less because Bertie had nearly face planted into the dash.

Calling a truce when we stopped by our favorite coffee place on Alvarado and Sunset, we hung out for a minute to sit down and actually eat because none of us had really had the chance to grab breakfast on the way out despite mom making us a full spread ahead of time. It'd be in the fridge when we got home though and I could make something with it before band practice. Or after practice if we went straight to Toni's since she lived in Ocean Park now with her mom.

Switching between the routes on her phone while mindlessly chewing on her buttered everything bagel, Wednesday grunted and mumbled words at me while showing me the streets we should cut across and the side streets that would bypass the majority of the traffic on the main streets and highways. Nodding along silently, I just agreed because she knew these roads just as well as I did. So if she said skip Fairfax then we'd skip it. We'd take a quick pitstop once we UCLA so that I could switch spots with Bertie and he'd drive until we got to the Brentwood Park area.

Mom and dad let him get his permit but didn't have the time to teach him how to actually drive and Uncle Fester and abuela weren't exactly the best instructors--Fester being easily distracted with the attention span of a squirrel while abuela leaned hard into road rage. So it was up to Wen and I to make sure he learned not only how to drive correctly but also "correctly for LA" because those were two different things.

Shoving my chocolate croissant into my mouth when I saw the time, I rushed them out--us three freaking out in broken chorus as we fumbled with the seatbelts. Making sure Wen was secure in her seat since she was the height and weight of a tic tac, I gunned it when we turned onto the first side street. Unbothered in the back with her headphones on and sunglasses down as we rocketed down the road, Bertie laughed and chanted "Faster! Faster!" with one hand on the oh-shit handle. Taking the turns hard and sharp as we cruised through the primly dressed McMansions and homes surrounding Holmby Hills, my eyes blew a little wider when we skidded just a hair on an embankment. And while Bert was entertained, Wen and I panicked for a good second. Yeah, we could have wrecked but I was more worried about getting chewed out in the hospital by mom than I was of dying in an inferno and chances were that Wednesday was thinking the same.

Cooling it until we got to UCLA, I parked the car just outside of the campus boundary and swapped with Bertie. It was crazy watching him adjust the seat less and less over the past few months since he turned sixteen and hit his second growth spurt. The same height as me now and filled out for the most part, even I was doing double takes sometimes--telling myself that he was younger than me and not a full ass man yet despite how massive his boulder shoulders had gotten considering how scrawny Bert had once been.

"Remember, foot on the clutch when you break, 'kay? Otherwise you'll stall out like last time."

"Got it." Jolting the truck forward then stalling out almost immediately, it was Wednesday laughing at Bertie from the back this time. Clicking his tongue, he glanced at her through the rearview with a growl. "Cállate bruja."

Ignoring her continued cackling because nothing tickled her wicked humor more than us falling on our faces, Bertie recovered from the fumble and got the car into gear--taking it easy for the first couple of miles as he got back into the flow of moving his foot between the gas and brake while tamping on the clutch and shifting up and down to adjust for speed. He wasn't too bad at it. Was leagues better at driving than Wen who only had a license in case of emergencies but was never trusted to actually drive. She wasn't an aggressive driver so to speak like abuela was. It was more like vindictive as she had, on occasion, tailgated them just to piss them off or would cut in front of them only to slow down.

So we didn't let her drive often.

"Music?" I asked Bert to see if he was relaxed enough to have anything playing or if he wanted the cab quiet.

"Dealers choice," he said coolly. Rolling down the windows to let the warm late August air roll in, he watched university students not much older than us head to campus in droves with sweatpants on and coffee in hand. "You know, I'm both stoked and scared to graduate. Like, look at them..."

"Yeah," I agreed but with a tone of acceptance since that would be me pretty soon. "How do you think I feel?"

"But you don't have to go to school for what you want to do. Technically, I mean."

"And neither do you because we're all going for music."

"Okay, but you're going for general. I want to do composition."

Rolling my eyes as I continued scrolling through my music, I mumbled, "Okay Danny Elfman." Jumping when Bert braked hard for a guy on a skateboard that shot out in front of us out of nowhere, I looked at him while my heart eased down because a couple seconds more on the gas and we would have hit the guy. "You okay?"

Breathing in sharp through his nose then out, he gripped the wheel then unclenched his hands--repeated this twice out of habit as he nodded. "Yeah. It's fine. I'm okay."

"You wanna switch?"

"No, I'm good."

"'Kay. Let me know if you need a break."

"Can you put something on?" he asked, still a little tense in his shoulders and prickly around the edges.

"Yeah, yeah. Anything's good?"

"Chili Peppers maybe? Or something like that."

"Sure, I got you."

Scrolling down all the way to the Red Hot's I tapped into the artist then hit shuffle. A second later "Californication" came on which was likely exactly what he had been wanting to listen to because Bertie's jaw relaxed and his shoulders rolled back a touch. Posture relaxing and expression easing as he sang along to words, the mood came back down to baseline. It was funny how there were numerous ways to defuse any one of us but the fastest and most effective was to put on good music. Maybe it was because mom used to sing us three to sleep when we were little and that carried over. Or maybe it was our obsession with it and how we couldn't live without something playing in the background. Whatever it was, it helped to know this funny little ism since we often had to use it on each other.

Tapping Bertie out once we had made it to Brentwood Park--well, a little past it--I drove the last leg of the trip, feeling my stomach shrivel up and boil in its own bile when we got to the Palisades Village. There was this common misconception that "quiet luxury whispers." Well, maybe it did when put up against blatant shows of wealth like highlighter pink sports cars that cost half your soul and Gucci glasses that could pay the electric and water bill for a family of four. But wealth and elitism spoke volumes when you grew up on the stark flipside of it. Even if you didn't know the brands they were wearing you knew that it was worth more than your existence. And if it didn't have a label, the price quadrupled.

That was the rule of thumb and it seemed to hold true.

Just past the shopping center that housed the Erewhon Wednesday silently hissed at and Bertie audibly boo'ed was our new school. A glittering beacon of narrow-minded thinking disguised as liberalism if I'd ever seen one, I'd read up on the place. Had Jug and Reggie fill me in on what to expect and it wasn't good.

Insidious racism veiled as social work and fundraisers. Sender students being made into charity cases to make donating families and businesses feel better about themselves while they donate to political campaigns for politicians who couldn't give two shits about the working class. I could see it in the way they looked at us as we pulled up into the student parking lot and hung up the parking permit from the rearview mirror. They were sizing us up. Knew without having to ask that we were from somewhere else. Somewhere where it wasn't commonplace for sixteen year old's to have access to their parents Amex Black card.

Eyes down on the steering wheel for a moment as the girls to our right sat in their brand new canary yellow Jeep Wrangler "whispering" loudly about how dirty the truck was, Bertie reminded me it was only for a year and that chances were not everyone would be as bad as I was making them out to be in my head. Wednesday snorted a laugh from the backseat and I shot her a glance through the mirror saying "Probablemente sean monstruos chupadores de sangre." With a hard reluctant sneer, I forced myself to unbuckle. Grabbed my backpack from the backseat, slipped on my sunglasses, and heaved sigh.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this."

Shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders, Wednesday stood beside me staring at our new prison. "Just close your eyes and count to ten. It'll be over before you know it."

"Promise?"

"No."

Should have known better than to ask. But it made me laugh nonetheless. And that was the only upside here really. I wouldn't be going at this alone. I'd have Wen and Bert and a couple friends if Toni made it through the testing process since her mom made her apply too. We'd be okay. Not great. Not fine. But we'd be okay.

We'll survive.

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____________Cheryl____________

I've never liked mornings. Ever.

I pretend that I do. I smile at the house staff. Make polite conversation with Fatima as she makes Jason and I breakfast. I've always gotten up at the crack of dawn, washed my hair, washed my face, did my skincare and body care, makeup, hair with the perfect blowout, and I've never had a poorly matched outfit since junior high when I started styling myself. Everything was right. Everything was perfect. Beautiful and aesthetic.

But I hated it all and wanted to lie in bed and rot until my bones decayed into dust on the pillows.

Every time I opened my eyes it was to a ringing in my ears that wasn't tinnitus or something that could be medically treated. My psychiatrist said it was nerves. I told her it was stress and exhaustion. Mom told me to stop being dramatic and dad said nothing.

So I ignored it. Lived with it as best as I could.

Light splashing offensively onto my eyes as it intruded through the blackout curtains I hadn't drawn shut completely, it was accompanied by my alarm. I had asked Lydia to stop waking me the way she woke up everyone else in mid-June. I never explained myself and was chastised for it. And honestly now it felt like the request had been a jinx because my relationship ended less than a month later and the privacy was no longer needed. Well, not of the intended purpose. But it did grant me space now to gather up the pieces of my face that sat scattered on the floor where they had fallen to the night before and reassemble my perfect self so that I could tolerate the world that sat beyond the exterior garden walls.

Routine on repeat like some b-rate film that used timelooping as a metaphor for repeating the past until the main character righted their wrongs, I put on my morning music playlist as I stepped into the spacious en suite bathroom that had been warmed to seventy-two degrees for me. My shampoo and conditioner never seemed to run out. My bodywash was always in supply. Shaving razors never dulled and toothpaste never emptied paste the halfway point. The only thing I was burdened with was remembering when to restock my skincare items which, even when they did run out, it was never a problem because there was nothing that couldn't be handled with a quick call.

Perfectly controlled and acclimated. It was like a dollhouse inside of a greenhouse.

Everything's monitored and privacy is a privilege.

You missed practice this morning. It was from dad, the message brightening the screen of my phone as I stepped out of the shower. We'll double up tonight's session and split it for before and after dinner.

Staring at the message, I hesitated. Could hear the small scream itching at the back of my neck like nails dragging down the nerves hidden beneath my skin.

I wanted to throw up and I hadn't eaten anything yet.

I'll have homework. I told him.

You can do it afterwards. Slacking off once leads to habitual laziness Cheryl. No excuses.

My stomach knotted. Worked itself up until the familiar aftertaste of vomit ghosted itself on my taste buds.

The cold sweats that came with it.

The dizzying nausea.

Looking at myself in my vanity mirror, I dissected the bags under my dull brown eyes. Examined my hairline to see if it had thinned anymore than what mom had pointed to over the summer when we went on vacation to Portugal. "It must be from the stress. You should sleep more darling" she had said. At least my lashes had grown back after my nervous snap over spring semester. The last run of qualifiers had taken their toll on me and the mounting coursework that had been piling up over the weeks hadn't helped either.

I had lost more weight. Likely muscle and not fat, unfortunately. I could tell just from looking at my face as I lifted and turned my jaw around to make sure I didn't look gaunt. Bags under the eyes could be covered up easy. So could the lingering tinting of the bruise that encircled my left eye. But you could always tell when someone lost weight and when it was done the "wrong way." It didn't matter if it was depression or the latest miracle cure injected into Hollywood socialites. If it wasn't done with discretion, grace, and proper deflection, it was done the wrong way.

Funny of me to obsess over such things when I hadn't done anything the "right way" since I was nine.

I hadn't done friendship properly. Sisterhood. Being a daughter which I consistently failed at. Dad was so focused on me winging the junior US Open but I had already won gold a multitude over.

This is why I hated mornings.

Too many echoing thoughts and not enough static to drown it out. During practice I could brutalize any tennis ball that met with the teeth of my racket. At school I reigned and always had someone talking to me. Someone trying to get my attention. Another girl. Another boy. Another party with drink after drink--one right after the other. Controlled chaos to drown out the silence that was so quiet it screamed.

It wasn't always this silent here. There used to be days I would wake up smiling.

Looking up at the photo stuck to my vanity, I hated that I could not bring myself to crumple up the polaroid and forget her completely. To erase her from this world entirely because having that last shard of glittering glass twinkling in the dim like a dying flame hurt more than the total darkness ever would or could. Perhaps I was a glutton for pain. It was likely.

She was so beautiful with eyes so dark I could see the stars in them and skin that smelled like lilacs.

So divine. And now she's gone.

A picture and nothing more.

A ghost that left me with her parting words in a poisoned kiss.

You're too much.

I know.

It's suffocating. The hot and the cold. I can't do this, even if I love you.

I know that too.

I'm sorry. I just... I'm sorry.

Gazing at myself in the mirror again, I felt my hollowed out spirit hovering free from my body. Could see her ghastly apparition looming over me--hanging like a corpse swinging from a tree with little grace in the way her heels knocked together; face pale and sickly and hair a frazzled mess. My banshee that screamed in silence every minute of every day. I was her mask. Her sword and shield. My purpose was to keep her safe--concealed and hidden because she hadn't always been a banshee. Just like all broken women, she had been made into this. It was a shame though. I thought we would have made it free from this place before her spirit had withered into this.

But hope wasn't a thing with wings. And dreams did not live in this house.

Going through the motions, my arms and hands operated outside of my control. Like phantom limbs they moved about prettying me up. Pulling and straightening my hair until the curls had been worked out leaving a sleek drop of fiery red down to my chest. Perfectly manicured fingers massaged my serums and lotions into my dull skin giving it new life then patted on the necessary color correctors and concealers. Foundation, highlighter and bronzer but in moderations, blush, lip stain, eyeliner... Lashes fanned out like the wings of angels and brows groomed to perfection, the version of me in the mirror was finally presentable.

A pretty face mounted to a pretty piece of flesh.

Little time was spent on figuring out the days outfit because it was tradition for Betty, Veronica, Winnie, and I to wear our best white skirt sets on the first day. It's what we did by accident on the first day of freshman year when we had met. Now we did it at the start and finish of every year. Pulling on my favorite cloud white knitted sweater--cropped with a deep cream stripe encircling each wrist and the collar of the v-neck, I paired it with the matching skirt with the hidden shorts built in. Shoes and socks on. Two sets of mini gold hoops. My favorite butterfly necklace with my blood red scrunchie on my wrist.

Perfection.

My senior year self, she was so pretty.

Kissing the mirror goodbye with my backpack packed, I head to the kitchen near the front-east of the house. Technically there were two kitchens but one was for the staff and one was for our normal day to day use which was why that one was just "the kitchen." Father wasn't home. He never was whenever the first day of school came around. Jason once joked it was because we had been too chaotic as children to handle that we had turned him off of the experience all together. But we both knew that wasn't it.

I didn't care though. Not this morning. I looked too good and I was wearing my favorite knit set so there wasn't any room to worry about the frustrated ponderings of a negligent parent. Jumping Jason who had his handsome nose buried in the fridge, I hung from his broad shoulders with my feet dangling above the white tiled floor as he laughed and I giggled--not letting go as he spun to shake me free. Dressed in simple jeans and a tee shirt with his letterman's jacket on despite the summer heat, he was two parts charm and one part heavenly.

Hair in perfect waves the same shade of red of mine with eyes more amber than mine that strayed toward brown, Jason was my mirror. The angel with me the little devil. He'd always been the shier of us two. Mild mannered but well-spoken and confident when he stood up for causes or people he supported. A natural born leader. A reluctant leader but still one nonetheless. He was the darling of our school. The darling of our parents and me. My favorite person. My only person.

Waiting patiently as he swung me around and sat me down on my feet, I smiled bright when Jason kissed my forehead just above my brows. Beamed brighter when I held his face in my hands. He was finally smiling again. And genuinely. It had been a while since his grin last reached up to his eyes. Had been a terribly long wait to see his cheeks apple and the bridge of his nose crinkle just a bit.

Last December hadn't been kind to him. Hadn't been kind to a number of us.

But Jason suffered more than anyone here.

It was good to see him like this again--glowing and radiant, as he should be.

"Ready for class?" I asked with arms looped around his neck as I drooped against him in my usual annoying fashion.

And as per usual, Jason humored me. "Morning Cher-bear," he droned with a grin, prompting me to greet him back since I'd forgotten. Pinching my nose after I had said "morning JJ" Jason leaned against the counter eating spoonful's of Fruity Pebbles, giving me bites too every so often. "Is that a new outfit?"

I nodded, happy that he had noticed. "You like it?"

"Mhm," he hummed, the sound muffled by the cereal temporarily stored in his cheeks. "It makes your hair and eyes stand out. It's really pretty on you."

"Thank you. I want to seduce all the boys and girls this year and break all their hearts."

"So make my life more difficult. How kind of you."

Clicking my tongue, I opened my mouth in silent signal for another helping of Fruity Pebbles. "You know," I spoke as I worked on the cereal I was chewing, "you don't make it easy for me either. Do you know how many girls I've had to eject from your DM's on Instagram over the summer? It's obscene the way they throw themselves at you."

"And the jockstraps slobbering over you isn't?" he challenged with a wicked smirk.

I loved how mischief looked on him when it was written in his eyes and curled the corners of his lips.

"Men will always be sloppy in their approach with you being the only exception." Jason snorted a laugh. I nudged his side before my expression dimmed just a shade or two. "How are you feeling?"

Chewing slowing, Jason stared down into his bowl of children's cereal. "Empty." I watched a moment longer as he sorted through the words in his head--as he searched for the right way to describe the sense of utter abandonment. Loneliness. "You remember when mom separated us when we were six because we couldn't share a room anymore. How I'd cry and cry and you'd come crawling into my bed each night even though you knew she'd spank you? It's like that but this time no one comes and I can't stop crying. Like my tears have dried up but," he chuckled as if it were the funniest thing he'd said all morning, "Honest, I don't think I have any left in me. But inside there's this sharp ringing in my ears and I can feel myself wanting to cry. But I can't."

There wasn't much I could say to help him. I was terrible with words. Especially ones that were meant to heal. Jason was the dove between us two and I was the crow. The fire contrasting his healing rain. But drought had hit us both. Turned our Eden that was just us into a wasteland with us standing wide-eyed at the center of it all. Summer hadn't been kind. Neither had the spring or last winter.

But he still had me for what it was worth and I had him.

Resting my head on his chest as he finished his breakfast in silence, I listened to his broken heart beating diligently beneath his ribs. Felt him breathe. Felt him shift his weight from one leg to the other.

Gazing across the space to the shoulder opposite of me, I could see her. Her enchanting ghost with eyes so blue they shamed the skies and seas. Golden hair in waves that cascaded to her shoulders. Cherub cheeks and an elfin nose. Her Palisades cheer uniform perfectly pressed with the school colors still vibrant and the mascot proudly placed at the center. She'd forever be this way now. Always serene. Always angelic. Never changing, never fading. She'd always be the loveliest she'd ever been--the princess of the Palisades watching over her somber prince.

"Ready?" Jason asked with a rough voice as he sat the bowl down in the sink and slipped an arm around my shoulders.

Looking from him to where the ghost had been, there was nothing there.

Just air.

Just the ghost of a ghost.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

----------------------------------------------

"Cher, can you turn the music down?" Veronica asked from the back as if she were some road weary toddler on a long road trip. "I can't hear anything Betty's saying."

I don't know what she was complaining about. It was only at seventy percent volume and we had only been driving for twenty minutes.

"Sorry Roni but the queen needs her music for mood regulation," I chirped. Laughed quietly to myself when I spotted her rolling her eyes through the rearview.

I always drove in the mornings and Jason took the after school drive if we took the same car to school. Always. That was just how we did things because he was a zombie most mornings whereas I had been conditioned into being a morning bird due to my early 5:00am tennis lessons with father. But there were mornings when he took his Mustang. They weren't many anymore though. In fact, he'd stopped driving the Mustang altogether recently and parked it in the third garage under a tarp with the gas tank siphoned until it was empty.

But this morning it was business as usual with Jason smiling and laughing as I performed "Gimme More" by Britney Spears with errant strands of hair from my ponytail whipping about my face. He'd dance a little but would lose himself whenever we were at a stop light and the inner cheerleader in me came out. I had been on the squad for nearly all four years of high school with this year being the exception. I had to quit though to focus on tennis since I was finally at the age I could compete in adult-level competitions. But I still enjoyed reliving those moments. Took even more delight from the moment when the girls in the back joined in.

Betty, Veronica, and I singled handedly reinvented the team when we joined as freshmen. Not only cosmetically because, as the captain, I demanded a visual standard from my girls that was a league above what our "competitors" asked for from their squad. But we threw out all the old cheer routines when Bianca reluctantly handed the team over to me when she graduated two years ago. She was so angry--absolutely fuming and it made me giggle on the inside because she could stay bitter for all I cared. That summer, the three of us spent the whole of cheer camp working on new inventive cheers, choreography, and aerials. We had also recruited in more boys to help with the heavy lifting.

It was the closest I had gotten to joy in years.

Me at the center with Betty and Veronica at my side and Jason completing the dream when he made captain of the varsity football team.

I missed it. More than I could put into words. But I wouldn't tell anyone. I wouldn't tell anyone. It was my own personal thought--my own little mourning but I would get over it eventually. I told myself that every day. And if I never did get over it I still would keep it a secret. No one needed to know my personal business.

Honking the horn as we pulled up to the Galpin estate that was fresh out of renovations to fix the roof and gables of the grand Tudor style home, I called to the eldest of the three siblings when I spotted him grabbing the newspaper from the top of the driveway. Smiling as Tyler approached the car looking gorgeous and disheveled as per usual I lamented the fact that he wouldn't be gracing the school halls any longer. A year ahead of us, he and his twin Enid graduated before summer along with Ajax and Josie along with a few of Jason's buddies from the team. He had also been the star swimmer for the men's swim team taking them to Nationals all four years along with City's and Regionals. And as to be expected from an athlete like him, Tyler was sculpted to perfection and knew it.

Bumping fists with Jason as if they hadn't just seen each other two days ago, Tyler leaned against the car with his arms dangling into the drivers side through the open window. I'd never gotten the opportunity to take him for a test drive because we'd both always been so busy. Tyler could also be insufferable at times when he was feeling himself. Like a peacock crowing constantly with their tail up and fanned out for attention. But he'd definitely be a good lay. Not just because of word of mouth but because it was a statistical impossibility. Eyes a deep ocean blue, cold and steely, paired with charming golden brown curls and a face crafted in the Hellenistic manner, bachelorhood suited him while benefitting the masses.

"Hey Cher," Tyler smirked, giving my outfit a one over with his gaze starting and ending at my legs, "New outfit?"

"You noticed."

"Always. It looks good on you."

Giving him an equally smug smile as Jason groaned off to my right, I didn't even need to look him over to know he looked good. "You're looking sharp. Those Christmas flannels suit you," I noted glancing quick at the sleeping pants slung dangerously low on his hips. "How's university life? I hope it's humbled you without mercy."

"The quarter starts in September but that's sweet of you to remember."

"You're actually keeping track of dates and schedules?" I feigned shock.

Tyler met my snark with his own signature flavor of sarcasm. "Impressive, right? I'm also teaching myself how to take notes and use highlighters."

"Careful, you may cause your brain to short circuit."

"You two seriously need to bang and just get it out of your system," Veronica commented from the back with Jason protesting immediately. He'd always been protective of me which made his high school life misery. "Hey Ty, is Winnie coming out soon? We're running behind."

A humored scoff escaped me quicker than she could ask where our missing party member was. "Like we need to worry about making it to class on time."

"She'll be out soon," Tyler assured Roni before looking back to me, "and don't ditch this year. They've been cracking down and gave even me a hard time last semester because I had a couple tardies and absences."

Reaching up, I patted Tyler's perfect pretty face with a condescending smile. "Ty, you know I'm not going to listen to a word you say. Don't flatter yourself."

Pinching my nose as the front door of the house swung open, he murmured, "Wouldn't have you any other way."

That wasn't fair. Neither was the shitty little wink he shot at me with as he took a few steps back.

Mask coming down as he went into "mother hen mode" Tyler stopped his sister in her tracks. Ran down the list of necessities to make sure she had them all. Phone, phone charger, wallet, water bottle, iPad, and her pepper spray. Droning a yes in response to each question, Wynn could not look more peeved had she actively tried to do so. Hugging her tight with a kiss to her forehead, it looked like Tyler was trying to make up for ditching his family for the summer in favor of traveling through Europe with Reggie and Archie. Enid hadn't minded it as much as the littlest Galpin did. But something told me not to pry. Not to snoop despite how much I wanted to.

Waiting for Wynn to climb into the back of the Jeep, I gave Tyler a wink and blew him a kiss as I started the car back up. Rocketing down the road with the music on high, I was all smiles feeling better about myself than I had all morning. All week, actually. I had spent most of the last two weeks of summer cocooned in my room when I wasn't at practice with my one outing being End of Summer party that Archie always had at his place.

"He's gotten so much hotter over the summer," I said aloud to myself mostly as we drove. "I wonder if he's still hooking up with Duke."

"Moose is dating Kevin," Jason informed me as if that weren't common knowledge.

"Yes, and? That hasn't stopped him before."

"Could we not talk about my brother's sex life?" Wynn asked so sheepishly from the back I almost couldn't hear her.

Looking at her through the mirror, I smiled. Fought the urge to roll my eyes as I did. "Sorry about that Baby G. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

It was childish of her. Prudish even. She was seventeen now and still acted like that? No one saw me whining and griping whenever Jason was lip locked with Polly or when she talked about her first time with him. Did I like hearing about how he fucked her within an inch of her life? No. I'm obsessive, not incestuous. But would I chastise her for being a normal teenage girl with a working brain and sex drive? Never. Society may shame women for their desires but women should never shame other women for wanting such things or for talking openly about it.

But I forgave her. Let go of it because Wynn was one of us now. With Tyler and Enid gone she had lost the only two people she talked to so it was up to us now. She was also part of the cheer squad which made her one of the sisters irregardless of anything else. Wynn would get used to our girl talk with time. Until then I'd take this opportunity to practice my patience.

Pulling up to campus with five minutes to spare, I swallowed the snarl bubbling up on my tongue when I spotted a dirty pickup truck in my spot. It wasn't reserved but it was my spot. Mine and Jason's. We always parked in the left corner at the farthest end of the student lot where the pink stargazer jasmine covered the fence completely. And the other students respected this. Observed this unspoken rule leaving the spot empty each and every morning. The offender was likely a freshman or a sophomore trying to be cheeky. And to dirty up my space with their half-bald tires and muddy undercarriage? Disgusting.

Squaring my jaw, I told the others to hop out and scamper off to class before they were late. Jason and I hung back though because we were never reprimanded for being late. Even if Tyler told us that they were starting to crack down on tardies and absences it wouldn't effect us. The teachers may not like us at times but the principle was a family friend and the dean of students plays racquetball with our mother.

Parking next to the truck, I toyed with the idea of getting my Jeep as close as I could to it so that it'd be difficult for any passenger to get in. I decided against it though because that would mean dirtying my own car with the gunk caked onto theirs and I had just gotten my sweet thing back from the detailer.

Shimmying toward the back of the car once I had gotten out, I checked my sweater and skirt for any dirt that may have gotten on me. Patted myself off just in case. Thanking Jason when he came around to my side to hand me my backpack and cherry red water bottle, I rested my head on his shoulder as he draped an arm over mine while we walked to campus. Smiled and gave a small wave to those who stopped to say hi.

It wasn't narcissistic or vain to say that we were the power duo of our school. The queen and her king. Maybe dynamics and social hierarchies like this didn't exist on other high school campuses but this was the Palisades, not the Valley or the inner city where students were coddled and told everyone's special. Here, you had to earn your reputation on your own and often it was fought for. Everyone came from someone of influence here. Everyone had money. Had power and a trust fund to fall back on. And because everyone had the same things that made them all boring. One of the dozens, if not hundreds, of cookie cutter pixies just like the clip-in’s filler queens over at the Bel Air country club that called themselves serious athletes despite having only picked up a tennis racket because Zendaya made it look fashionable.

You were a nobody until you were told otherwise.

And in this hillside arena adorned in fragrant roses and towering palm trees that overlooked the ocean, Jason and I ruled.

Stopping by my locker to drop off my backpack, I checked my makeup to make sure everything was staying put. Touching up the corner of my eye, I looked off to the corner. Watched as Jughead chatted up Betty even though I told her she could do better. They were friends. For now. And hopefully they'd stay that way. He had a cute face in a young Leonardo DiCaprio sort of way, I'd give him that. But there was nothing he could give her. His family had lost everything years ago. Everyone knew. That's why he was a sender student now and even then, the way he got in was questionable. But Betty was hopeless and never had someone to guide her through things like this.

"Don't," warned a voice from over my shoulder when I closed the door to my locker a little too hard when I saw Jughead flip the curl of Betty's ponytail.

Looking over my shoulder, I huffed a sigh. "Morning Reggie."

"Morning."

Tilting my head as I continued watching this awkward display of flirting, I grimaced. "Why is she laughing?"

"Maybe because he said something funny?"

"Jughead? Funny? Get real. This is the same guy that had a loyalty complex about his father's gang for years and wore the same beanie all through junior high because he didn't want to shower."

"Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk or do you just open your mouth as say the first thing that comes to mind?"

"A swimmer with higher brain function? Shocking," I countered with a snide smile. "I thought you all were too water logged in the head to think critically while on dry land."

"Coming into the new semester with knives out already," Reggie chuckled, not put off in the least by my response. This was our usual banter after all. "What do you have for first period, queenie?"

Pursing my lips, I opened my phone and went to my notes to check. "Spector for AP Econ."

"Gross."

"You?"

"AP Romantic Lit with Lehran."

"Vile."

"And in the morning no less." Jerking his chin toward the hall and stairwell behind us, Reggie started walking and I followed. "So how was summer break? You do anything?"

I gave him a look. One that told him he knew better than to ask that. "I had approximately one week to relax and then it was practice from sun up to sundown. Practice and flying from one match to the next. The junior US Open followed by the Australian Open and then the Wimbledon qualifiers."

"Yeah, I saw that last one. Sorry you didn't advance."

I shrugged. "I just have to train harder. It was my own fault that I didn't move quick enough to catch that last play."

"You looked like you were moving quick to me," Reggie countered with a tone so casual it were as if we were discussing a monumental failure but instead talking about what we were going to have for lunch. "Maybe instead of training harder you should cut yourself some slack and relax a little. You're running yourself into the ground Cher. It's not 'not moving fast enough', it's burnout."

"I'm hardly burnt out Reg." And even if it was, it wasn't like I had a choice in this. "And if you're going to criticize me you may want to tidy up your side of the street. You think I haven't heard about you blowing out your shoulder over summer?"

"That's different. I was on vacation and we were having fun."

"You were still swimming."

"On vacation. Keywords there."

"Uh huh. Anyway, I got to go so Spector doesn't pitch a fit over nothing. Lunch at the usual spot?"

Hugging me, Reggie gave a half nod. "You bring your friends, I'll bring mine."

I rolled my eyes. "Later."

"Later."

Heading off in the opposite direction of me, I went left and he went right. I may not have been exceptionally late to class. Ten minutes out of nearly an hour long lecture was nothing. And it was the first day so it was just syllabus review and people pretending to be interested while others didn't and sat in the back texting friends and talking amongst themselves.

Arriving just shy of twelve minutes into Spector's overview of the course, I politely apologized for my truancy. Told her that parking was abysmal this morning and that it wouldn't happen again. Her and I both knew that was a lie but I said it out of formality. And if she whined about it at all I'd just have Jason come to my rescue because she adored him just like everyone else did.

The perks of having him as my twin.

Quietly making my way down the third row of seats toward the far end of the room with the windows overlooking the main courtyard, I paused when I saw an unfamiliar face sitting in the seat I wanted. And when I say unfamiliar I mean alien because I had never seen this person once in all my years living in the Palisades. I knew almost everyone of consequence and I certainly knew all the faces in the AP program because it was more difficult to get into than the honors group and had double the perks.

Taking a picture of the newbie so I could ask the girls or Reggie about him over lunch, I tucked my phone away and approached. Clearing my throat politely, I stood there for a moment. Waited a minute more even while the annoyance his presence caused gnawed at the nerves at the back of my neck. Doing it again but making sure I was louder this time, I forced a smile when the boy looked up.

Definitely not from here.

It was so obvious too.

Fantastic. Another sender student. There were so many of them now and usually they didn't bother me none. Well, apart from Jughead. He annoyed everyone though. But for the most part they minded their own business, didn't try to mix with the rest of us because they didn't have the time or money to do so after school, and they sat at the back of the class. This guy, however, did not seem to get the survivalist's handbook.

"What?" he asked with a dose of indignance--looking at me with dark eyes that looked more bothered than apologetic.

"That's my seat."

"There aren't seating assignments and there's plenty of spots open."

"No, that's my spot."

Staring at me like an idiot a moment longer, he shifted as he turned himself around. Looked me up and down with a weird expression. Like he was humored but also offended.

"Sorry Pip. Find another seat."

"Excuse me?" I wanted to rip his throat out. Pip? Pip?! "I already told you--"

"Miss Blossom," Mrs. Spector interjected. "Please sit down. We're in the middle of lecture and you've already missed the first half of the discussion."

Who gave her the audacity? "I'm trying to sit down Mrs. Spector but this boy--"

"Mr. Addams came to class on time. You did not. Pick another seat. There are plenty left by the windows."

Looking from her smug leathered face to the boy's indifferent expression that hid a taunt in his eyes, I stared at him a moment longer. Remembered his face. Remembered his name then sneered slightly before taking the seat behind him.

He was new here and didn't know how quickly things moved by word of mouth. But he'd learn fast not to step on the toes of the locals.

He may be a classmate but he was also a "visitor." And visitors had to play by the rules too, just like everyone else.

Sending the picture I took to the girls in the group chat, I asked them if they could send it to Kevin and Reggie to see if they knew anything.

Addams...

I'd remember that.