CLAIRE JACOBSON DESPERATELY needed her own episode of "What Not to Wear". With a head of scraggly dishwater-brown hair and a face full of caked-on makeup, it was hard not to watch as she crossed the cafeteria. Her flowery, fuchsia dress and bleached blue jeans would actually make Stacey and Clinton scream.

Mia leaned across the table, her fork pointed in my direction. "Just look at her." Her voice was softer than a mouse, yet sharp with malice. "Yellow sequins. They look old and crusty. Did she try to add those to those jeans herself?"

"I'm still trying to figure out why she'd wear a knee-length dress with jeans," Rissa grumbled to my left. She stabbed at the pitiful public-school salad in front of her, shoveling a forkful of less-than-fresh lettuce and ranch dressing into her mouth.

To my right, my best friend Natalie snickered. She tucked a loose strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. "Claire's outfit is just plain ugly. That's all there is to it."

I lifted my bottled water to my lips, taking a sip as Claire sat down at an empty table. As she unwrapped a brown paper bag, a small surge of guilt began to nibble at my stomach. I swallowed thickly and suddenly felt the weight of my friends' gazes.

The guilt chewed deeper now, gnawing at my chest.

Ignoring it was second nature now.

"And here I thought jeans were supposed to flatter everyone," I added with a roll of my eyes. "Do you think she stole them from her grandma? Or a millennial?"

Laughter bubbled through the cafeteria. A few students from the tables closest to ours joined in. Claire glanced back over her shoulder, uncertain light bright eyes scanning the tables behind her. Her gaze found mine and immediately dropped. Her shoulders sank as she focused on the sandwich in her hands.

That guilty feeling clawed through my stomach.

I seriously doubted she could hear anything we said. But it was still painfully obvious that we were talking about her. I mean, absurdly obvious.

Rissa made another off-hand comment, picking apart Clarie's hair, and then took another bite of her salad. Natalie and Mia laughed. I ignored them this time, picking absently at the label on my water bottle.

Claire was honestly such a nice person. Like 'volunteers-at-the-local-soup-kitchen' level nice. She didn't deserve any of the vicious comments or sneering looks.

But I couldn't help it. It was just so much easier to be mean.

Like I'm popular – it's literally my job.

I'm not as popular as Natalie though. My best friend was the current reigning "it" girl of Paradise High. She rose to fame about a year ago, when she dated our old quarterback, Noah Rosewood. He was the typical hot jock and she was the real-life Regina-George. It was a match made in heaven. Until it wasn't.

Even after she dumped him though, her status as the ultimate queen bee was fully cemented into place. No one dared to oppose her.

And as her friend, I rose through the ranks as well. Being popular was a lot of pressure, but the actual job itself wasn't that hard. All I had to do was make Natalie laugh and harshly criticize the world around us.

And given my naturally sarcastic nature...

Nat's compact suddenly snapped shut.

Startled, I glanced at her – just in time to see those sky-blue eyes canvas the room, already searching for her next victim. She combed her fingers through her curled blonde tresses and sighed dreamily. "Oh, Ceia," she said in a sing-song voice, elbowing me gently. A mischievous grin tugged at her glossy lips. "Don't look now. But I think the football players are talking about you."

My heart skipped a beat.

I lifted my bottled water to my lips again, allowing my gaze to travel around the room, toward the rowdy table in question. The table was roughly two away from our own, and overflowing with bulky, muscular bodies in matching navy hoodies. A ferocious silver-colored shark was embroidered on their chests – our school mascot, NAME.

One of those muscular bodies in particular caught my eye.

Travis Wayne.

He ran a lazy hand through his messy brown hair, lips pulled back into a cheesy grin. He said something I couldn't quite make out, and laughter erupted at the table. His amber eyes sparkled.

I wanted to swoon.

"Are you sure they're talking about me?" I heard myself ask. "They're not really looking this way."

There wasn't an immediate answer. Alarms blared through my head, and I shot a nervous glance toward Natalie. Her seat was empty. My gaze snapped to Mia, a frown forming on my face.Mia smiled, almost apologetically, and nodded toward the football table.

I knew what I would see. But I looked anyways.

Natalie stood behind Travis, one perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder. Her body pressed against his as she leaned past him, playfully trying to nab a french-fry from his plate. Laughing, he swatted at her hand and then moved – creating a seat for her at the table.

A wave of irritation swallowed me whole.

The water bottle in my hands crunched up, my iron-clad grip forcing the plastic to fold in on itself. I forced my gaze down, focusing intently on some random chunk of lettuce that had fallen onto the table. Mia's eyes burned through me. "Jeez, Ceia. Let the bottle breathe."

The lights above our heads flickered. Once. Twice. Instantly, there was a weird pause in the endless chatter that filled the cafeteria – the entire room fell silent for just a few seconds, everyone staring curiously at the lights. Then everything went back to normal.

I forced my fingers open, staring down at the deformed water bottle in my hands. Deep indents had formed into the sides, along with several small cracks. A small wisp of white light danced in the fractured reflection of the lights above, glimmering in the broken plastic.

I blinked. The white light disappeared.

"Well, that wasn't creepy like at all," Rissa said. She glared uneasily at the lights, tucking her short, inky hair behind her ear. She stood and brushed the crumbs from her yellow blouse. "I'll be back," she told us then, blowing us a quick kiss.

Mia muttered something under her breath and stood, brushing the crumbs from her yellow blouse. "Are you coming?" She glanced back over her shoulder, and we both watched Natalie squeeze in beside Travis, giggling. Rissa claimed a seat on the opposite end of the table, cozying up to the players seated beside her.

"Someone's gotta hold down the fort," I told Mia with a dismissive wave, urging her to join them. "Besides, Jason's looking extra hot today. And single."

"Wish me luck!" Mia squealed.

I watched her dance away, making her way toward the empty seat that Jason had already created for her. His dark eyes glimmered with excitement as Mia slid in beside him, already laughing and grinning and obviously head-over-heels.

Heaving a sigh, I leaned forward, folding my arms atop the table in front of me. I watched the table for a moment — waving cheerfully at any questioning looks sent my way. The guys seemed mighty pleased at the new additions, and I knew it wouldn't be long before Natalie had them all eating out of her perfectly manicured hands.

I moved my purse — well, the pale blue mini-backpack that I kept my wallet and phone in — onto the table, propping my phone against it. It took about two seconds to find my ear-buds and plug them in, and then another two to select a random YouTube video. I rested my cheek on my fist.

I just needed to get through the rest of lunch. Then I could go home and sulk and get over whatever remained of my stupid little crush on Travis. Plus, it was Tuesday. That meant Mom would be cooking tacos.

In Natalie's defense, I hadn't exactly told her that I saw Travis as some sort of Greek-God-like beacon of teenage beauty. I had actually hoped to talk to him first, maybe even woo him with my hilarious personality. Then reveal my mild crush to everyone.

Now it was too late.

A loud buzz rattled the table and a text message flashed at the top of my screen. I jumped a little at the sound and, weirdly enough, I noticed the lights flicker above my head again. Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone and dragged my thumb across the screen, skimming through my notifications.

The message was from my dad.

"That's weird," I muttered under my breath. Confusion crawled through my veins, chased by an unusually icy chill. Dad never texted during school hours. Not unless there was an emergency of some sort.

The message thread expanded across the screen, revealing our typical one-sided conversations. I read over the newest message. 'Mom died. You need to come to the hospital on South Jackson St. Already called the school. Natalie can drive you."

My fingers twitched and the phone slipped. It clattered against the worn table-top. I just stared at it, unable to move. I couldn't think. The lights started to flicker above my head, more rapidly than they had before. I watched through the reflection of my darkened phone screen as the light-bulbs burst, sparks twinkling within the intricate spider web of cracks now splintered across it.

Darkness washed through the cafeteria, only deterred by the few windows that lined the walls. Someone screamed dramatically. A few people laughed. Then a storm of whispers burst through the massive room. Several teachers began to shout, trying to regain order and herd the students outside.

"Ceia?"

Every cell in my body had frozen solid. My body refused to work. I couldn't bring myself to respond —to even react or acknowledge the fact that Natalie's hand had curled around my shoulder. I saw Natalie's other hand reach out and pick up my phone. "Oh ouch," she said as she examined the damage. "This looks bad, Ceia."

"I need you to drive me to the hospital. The one closer to my house."

Somehow, the words came out. They sounded distant, as if I was submerged beneath water and someone else had spoken them. I managed to meet her questioning gaze.

Natalie's eyes widened. "Get up. Let's go. Right now."

It was easy to escape the school through all the chaos — with all the students spilling out into the courtyard, none of the teachers thought to monitor the door that lead to the student parking lot. Natalie dragged me to her bright red mustang and buckled me into the passenger seat.

"It'll be okay," she assured me.

The words were soft spoken and full of warmth. It reminded me of the Natalie that I knew as a kid, back when popularity was a myth. She added, "I don't really know what's going on but I know that it will be okay, Ceia. Just breathe."

I couldn't bring myself to look at her. Or to even choke out the words that would explain what was going on.

And Natalie didn't press for answers. Instead, she just drove silently, casting a worried look my way every couple of seconds. It wasn't long before the mustang turned into a large field of concrete and cars. Ahead of us, a bright red and white sign hung above a three door glass entrance, displaying the word 'Emergency' in giant letters.

I didn't even wait for the car to stop.

My hands worked faster than Natalie's brain. I unclipped the seatbelt and threw open the door. Natalie's mouth dropped in shock and she slammed down on the breaks.

"Ceia! Hold on, Ceia! Wait!"

The thin soles of my baby-pink sandals slapped against the concrete as I bolted. I zeroed in on the entrance door. Distantly, I heard Natalie scream from behind me. "Panaceia! Wait! You can't just run in there like a crazy person!"

The doors slid open and a blast of air sliced across my skin. The hairs on my arms stood straight. I slowed to a stop and looked around wildly, searching desperately for my father's face. The hospital lobby was painfully barren. Several people were strewn about, slumped within the brown leather chairs that lined the walls. Some were injured. Some were not. It was hard to focus.

Natalie suddenly appeared. I felt her fingers ensnare my wrist. "Panaceia," she whisper-hissed into my ear. "Just slow down for a second. We don't want to cause a panic."

My jaw clenched. "I don't see my dad."

"Maybe we can ask the front desk," Natalie suggested. She tugged me deeper into the lobby, toward the small window that was situated directly across from the door.

A plump woman sat behind it, dressed in blue scrubs. Her fingers tapped against the keyboard in front of her. She looked up as we approached and smiled. "Good afternoon! How can I help you, girls?"

"Panaceia?"

I turned, only to suddenly find my face smashed against someone's shoulder. The arms around me tightened. Just when my lungs were about to cave, I was released and my attacker stepped back.

It was a woman — a complete stranger. Her moss-colored eyes were glassy with tears. "I'm so sorry," she said, her laugh humorless. "You probably have no idea who I am. I haven't seen you since you were in diapers."

I stared at her.

She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Most of her long dark hair had been pulled back, piled atop her head in a messy bun. A butterfly pin held the up-do together, its wings a deep, melancholic blue with inky dark spots. It was scarily realistic, its tiny feet lost within the strands of her hair. "It's a shame that we have to meet again under these circumstances, isn't it?"

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hey there, friends! :) it's been a while since I've written anything...but I'm determined to finish Ceia and Roman's story. Thank you so much for your patience with me!! And I promise this is the last time I re-write this chapter lol. 

love, ash ♡