Back then, it had been as easy as a pie. Telling off little Novah in her pink leggings and her sweatshirt which had Harvard printed across her small bust. Isla derived pleasure from humiliating her.

A satisfied smirk had spread across her face when Novah bit back a sob, a tint of red stealing into her cheeks. Her bottom lip quivered in embarrassment, and she was shuddering like she had a fever.

"I guess I'm sorry, Isla. I'll__" her voice broke down, "I'll eat more salad." She had cried, then she ran from the cafeteria.

The laughter of other students still echoed in Isla's ears. Poor Novah had borne the brunt of getting on her nerves for that day, and she had had the worst experience of her life.

"Aww, you're so sweet." Craig had moaned.

A feeling of pride bobbed in Isla's chest. Mission accomplished.
"Such an idiot she is, right?"

Or maybe Isla herself was the idiot.  But Craig would die before her refused to suck up to his best friend. At times like that, he almost told her off but was scared of hurting her. She was sensitive; he knew that too well.

The last time he'd scolded her over something, she'd cried for a week and whined at him in class. Isla had even persuaded her Dad to withdraw the invitation to Craig's family to attend their Christmas brunch.

Then his Dad had forced him to play the gentleman and make it up to her by buying her a real silver necklace. She'd worn it every damned day till tenth grade when she mislaid it at the home coming party. Isla shivered in the bathroom. She had no idea of how much time she'd spent there.

Half an hour? More? She couldn't care less. Her hands shook as she tore off a wad of tissue and blew her nose. God, she missed Craig but Satan would have her dead before she admitted it. Her throat was dry and itchy. But they ached to cry, Craig. I need you. Eyes red and swollen. But they ached to see Craig.

Speak of the devil, he was worried to death when he realized that Isla had abandoned her own party. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his heart raced a thousand times faster. Fear. Anxiety. Anger. Everyone of those emotions crowded his mind at once, till he gave in to the pressure and excused himself from Novah.

"Come on, don't leave me here. I don't want to be paired with Peter. You know he's a horrible partner for this game." She whined like a three-year old.

Her dependence irked him a bit, but it was also what he loved about her. She always looked up to him with dark moe eyes, batting her eyelashes, reminding him that he was her bloody lifeline.

"They dare not."

"What?" She was confused.

"Pair him with you. I'd kick him in his balls if he fucking touches you." He was more anxious by the minute, impatient to fly to wherever Isla was.

He saw the look on her face and knew that he was in deep trouble. She tipped his head towards her with her index finger. Her eyes were trained on him in primal desire, and a shock ran through his body when she leaned in closer. She knew what she was doing. Maybe she wasn't as stupid or dependent as he had assumed. Novah trailed her fingers over his abs gently, keeping him in that state of shock. He couldn't move. He was waiting, eager for her fingers to sail over his groin.

Her magic was working. He melted to pulp when she pressed her lips to his, urging him to deepen the kiss. Her mouth worked wonders on him. She was slow, needy, erotic with her tongue, rendering him weak. His crotch exploded in hardness, and all he wanted was to kiss her back. To flow with her rhythm.

Then the image of Isla's weeping face zoomed in his line of vision, and he was torn between both choices: make out with his girlfriend or comfort his best friend. Neither seemed better than the other. Novah wanted him. Isla needed him. With all the effort he could muster, he broke the kiss. It was the first time he'd ever declined her lips, and she was amazed. No, hurt.

"Fine. Have fun." She said curtly.

"Novah, I__" He couldn't bear to leave her like this, broken.

"It's all about Isla, isn't it? I know damn well that you're going to look for her and wrap your arms around her and comfort her. Don't you understand what she's trying to prove, Craig? That no matter how badly she's treated you, when the time comes to choose between her and me, you'll always go for her. I'll never be good enough for you, anyways."

"Novah__"

She commanded,"Leave."

"Novah__"

"Leave!" She shrieked, burying her face in her palm.

A knot formed in his throat. His head was throbbing hard. She had every right to be mad at him. He'd just proven himself to be an asshole. Her words slashed him deep in the guts. When she lifted her head, he was gone.

Craig was tired and unhappy with himself. He felt as if he bore all the sorrows of the world on his shoulders. Isla wept in torrents, soaking up the entire roll of tissue. Her tears wouldn't stop flowing as her heart was rent in pieces.

"Isla? Are you there?"

Relief washed over her. Craig. He had come.
She gasped at the sight of her bloodshot eyes in the mirror. He would know. She had been crying. Isla could swallow her pride and run into his arms, relishing his honeysuckle cologne that she'd missed for so long. She balled her fists in determination.

"Yes, I'm here. And I'm asking you to leave me alone." She muttered.

That was when his world crashed.