AARAV HATED MADISON ASTER.
Alright, so the word hate was too extreme. But the two had never gotten along. Tensions between them had been high from the day Madison knocked over his block tower in kindergarten to him beating her in the middle school spelling bee to her winning NHS president over him. Not to mention their fierce rivalry for valedictorian.
Aarav found the redhead standing by her locker, surrounded by a giggling gaggle of friends, prim ponytail swishing side to side. Her high-pitched voice cut through even the chatter of high school gossip.
"You have the papers I missed last meeting." He ignored the cutting green glare sweeping over him. Her face was a creamy smooth that reminded him of the fondant on cakes. Sweet upon first sight, but it left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"Skipping meetings as vice-president. How irresponsible." She'd drawn herself up to her full height, reaching a solid 5'9 in her heeled designer boots.
Leaning against the nearby locker, he stared down at her, matching her cold gaze, and raised an eyebrow. "Do you have them or not?"
With a huff, Madison turned to her locker, spun the combination, and yanked open the door. Although her red ponytail whacked him in the face, she didn't seem to notice. Or it was on purpose. She grabbed a folder from the shelf and shoved it into his chest.
"Remember: officer meeting in ten. Your presence would be much appreciated, Aarav."
Aarav rolled his eyes. "I know. You can't accomplish anything without me carrying the load for you."
Her nostrils flared and eyes sharpened before she smoothed her face into a placid expression. In response, Aarav offered a crooked smirk. "I'll head in early then."
Straightening his shoulders, he walked to Mrs. Anderson's classroom. In the near distance, Madison's heels clicked after him against the shiny tiles. "You cannot walk off when I'm talking."
When he crossed the door, he yanked the handle so it shut behind him in Madison's face. She huffed and forced it open. "You could've at least held it."
Oh, what a fool he'd been to hope a door could stop her. Ignoring her, he flipped through the folder, adjusting his glasses while he scanned the neat black text: upcoming initiation ceremony, plans for a winter fundraiser.
"Now you're awfully quiet." With a raised eyebrow, Madison crossed one leg over the other.
"Well, I wouldn't plan your murder out loud." Perfect conversation starter.
"And here I thought you'd already hit rock bottom."
"Turns out there's a basement."
From Madison's ears materialized invisible white puffs of steam. He bent his head over the papers, focusing on last meeting's notes rather than her dark glare. When the door opened, two other students filed in: Iris Saetang and Carlos Rodriguez, secretary and treasurer.
Iris smiled at Aarav and perched next to him, then nudged his shoulder. "Missed you last meeting."
"Yes, some of us are irresponsible and can't be bothered to show up," injected Madison.
"Some of us have other commitments than kissing up to the headmaster," retorted Aarav with an eye roll.
He set the papers back in the folder and closed it. The rest of NHS officers walked in and found their usual seats, followed by Mrs. Anderson. Good, the quicker they started the meeting, the less time he spent with his worst rival. He allowed some of the tension to seep from his shoulders.
"Attention!" Madison banged her glittery pink gavel on the edge of the desk for everyone's attention. Not that it was necessary: every inch of her, from her sparkly barrettes to her stiletto heels, screamed for it. She always made herself noticed.
With all eyes on her, she stood up from her seat. "As you know, the initiation ceremony is coming up soon. First, we need to decide on schematics like the refreshments and color scheme, then organize a planning committee."
"We could try darker colors this year, like a deep orange or red. Add in some gold accents for a more regal design," Aarav suggested.
Madison, who'd decided last year's colors, shook her head. "Not a chance."
"This is a democracy so why don't we let everyone
"Alright Aarav Deshmukh, if you hate my color scheme idea—"
"He is correct," interrupted Mrs. Anderson. "All in favor of Madison's theme from last year, raise your hand."
No one did except for Madison and Iris, who slowly lowered hers. "Sorry," she whispered to the fuming girl.
"All in favor of Aarav's idea?"
All hands except Madison's raised. She gritted her teeth and sat back down. "Alright, we will use reds and golds. Now let's move on to the fundraising. We can start selling chocolate bars again."
"That wasn't successful last year," Aarav commented.
"It worked perfectly well." For a microsecond, her eyebrow twitched before she smoothed her face into a tranquil mask. "Besides, the school's endowment will cover everything."
"We can't wait for Westminster's funding to cover everything." Again, Aarav rolled his eyes.
"Actually Madison, sales were quite low," Carlos corrected, flourishing a balance sheet marked with neat, tidy numbers. "We could use some changes."
"How about a winter carnival? Even if we don't raise much, it'll still be fun," suggested Iris.
"There is no way we have enough members to pull that off," Madison said stiffly.
"Let the other clubs host booths too. Everyone could use some more money outside of Westminster funding," Aarav suggested. Not to mention that the academy had a tendency to overlook numerous extracurriculars in favor of athletics.
Iris chirped, "It could be a whole school bonding thing!"
"Or we can continue with chocolate bars," she said, her nose wrinkling.
"All in favor of the winter carnival?" asked Mrs. Anderson.
Everyone's hands, save Madison's, raised in support.
After the longest twenty minutes he had ever experienced in his seventeen years of life, Aarav found sanctuary in the hallway. However, to his misfortune, Madison stormed out after him and cornered him at the trophy case. Sighing, he removed his glasses, and wiped the lenses with the edge of his sleeve.
"What is it?" Resting his head against the glass, he rubbed his eyes. He hadn't consumed enough caffeine to tolerate Madison for much longer.
"I'm will only say this once: stop undermining my authority."
"What authority?" With another heavy sigh, Aarav pinched the bridge of his nose. "You only won president due to sharing the voting form with your non-NHS friends—which, might I add, is against the rules."
As though to hit him, her quaking hands curled into fists. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't—not when it would risk a mark on her perfect record. "Stop getting in my way."
"How so? What did I even do wrong?" he questioned in mock innocence.
"You're insufferable," she grumbled before whirling around and sauntering away.
"The feeling's mutual," he muttered under his breath and shook his head.
. . .
After classes ended, Jackie walked on the side of the hallways, keeping her body pressed against the lockers so she wouldn't block anyone. Another reason why she hated how often her mother moved them around. Each time involved the same process: adjust to the new school, make some friends, and prepare to cut ties again. It hadn't taken long to figure out Westminster Academy's social structure. Everyone had their own friends to chat and walk alongside, and there wasn't room for a random new girl.
Jackie's breath caught in her throat when her eyes met those of Madison Aster's. She gave a tiny nod, her gaze lingering before she turned the other direction, followed by her two faithful friends. A silent agreement in one passing look: they would pretend the other didn't exist. It was fine with her. She only needed to tolerate living with Madison for a year before the girl went off to some fancy university.
Seven minutes before rehearsal time, she opened the theater doors. Despite the bell having rung only a moment ago, Aarav and a few others were already there. Near the front of the stage, he was occupied talking to Mr. Wilson, a clipboard in hand. When he turned in her direction, Jackie smiled and offered a little wave. He nodded in acknowledgement before facing the teacher again, so she lowered her arm.
"Hey there stranger." Across from Jackie stood a petite girl with black ripped jeans and an oversized Hamilton t-shirt. She had smooth umber skin and tight bouncy curls cropped short.
"Hi?" She didn't recognize the girl from auditions. "I'm Jackie."
"The name's Aaliyah."
"I didn't see you at auditions?" Damn, everything coming out of her mouth sounded like a question. It was like she was perpetually confused. Jackie bit her lip and reached up to toy with her red hair ribbon.
"Part of stage crew." With a shrug and flick of her hair, Aaliyah jerked a thumb in the backstage direction. "No need for auditions."
"Maybe you could show me some of the backstage work sometime." She walked a couple of feet closer into the light, and Jackie could see there wasn't that much of a height difference between them. Aaliyah was still taller but only by a few inches.
"I can do that now. Come with me."
Jackie followed her through the backstage door at the end of the stage, which resembled entering a portal into a different world. Gone was the glitz and glamour of the spotlight, replaced by wires and mechanical tools. She traced a finger against the wooden supports of a half-finished set—a staircase leading to the skeleton of a house.
"Don't touch that. It's still fragile."
Immediately, Jackie jerked her hand away.
"It's supposed to be the sorcerer's lair," Aaliyah explained and opened a color-coded binder with rainbow notes scrawled in the script's margins. "The staircase is detachable, so it can be turned and converted into the clock tower's lower floor."
Jackie raised her eyebrows. "You're prepared."
"You know how actors study the script before auditions, right? Well, the stage crew starts building the sets over the summer to make sure they'll be done by opening night."
"In fact, I've been emailing Aarav back and forth to understand more of his vision for this play," Aaliyah continued while she held up color samples and printed photos. "I want to experiment a little to accurately represent The Clockwork Town, and I've been studying a ton of architecture photos."
With a flourish, Aaliyah swept the black sheet off a spare prop, sending dust clouds into the air.
Jackie played with the ends of her hair ribbon. "That's a lot of responsibility to have."
Aaliyah nodded emphatically. "You bet. It's a mystery how no one has collapsed from exhaustion yet."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "Is Aarav always so stressed?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much normal Aarav. The guy runs on pure caffeine. Hell, his entire clique does."
"Clique?"
"Aarav, Iris, Madison, a couple others. Their families have known each other since forever," Aaliyah explained. "The classic overachievers. The ones whose grades rank in the top twenty, leading clubs, running charity events, winning a ton of awards."
Sounded like the type of people Madison would hang around. Briefly, Jackie remembered the snide remarks her stepsister had made about Aarav. But supposedly they were friends?
"He's even more intense this year since we're aiming for the national Center Stage awards," Aaliyah continued.
"Center Stage?" Jackie's eyes widened. She'd always dreamed of one day performing in such a large-scale competition. But it had always been just that—a daydream. It'd never felt like a possibility. None of her previous schools had even bothered.
"Yeah, you didn't know?"
"It's just that you need to be invited first and even then—"
"Well, that's the plan for opening night. Aarav is submitting a video to the judges." Balancing a series of bags on her arms, Aaliyah hoisted up a box of smaller items. "Enough chatter. You better head back out there before Mr. Wilson admonishes you, and I need to set up for rehearsal."
As though on cue, she heard Aarav's muffled voice calling for her to run a scene.
Taking a deep breath, Jackie walked onto the stage, her heeled boots clicking against the hardwood. She tightened the red ribbon around her ponytail and relaxed her shoulders. The stage crew set up the rest of the props to simulate a fairytale-esque cottage. Liam stood across from her and flashed a disarming smile, his blond hair shining under the light.
"You're playing Leon? The male lead?" Jackie questioned.
"Yeah, you didn't see the cast list?" His smile widened while he laid down, pretending to be unconscious.
"Oh right. Right."
When Aarav cleared his throat, she flinched and whirled around. Front and center before the stage, he stood with his head held high, his own marked-up script in hand, next to Mr. Wilson. "Start from the top of page 20 when Leon uses his story-spinning powers to bring Astoria back to life."
Eyes narrowing, he tapped the watch around his wrist, nails clicking against the glass. "Hopefully you're ready soon."
"Right!" With a nervous laugh, she straightened and cleared her throat. "Okay, starting now."
Aarav motioned to the back with a quick spin of a finger. The lights dimmed except for a warm yellow glow cast on Jackie. "Once the logistics are worked out, the sun will be visible through the window."
Outstretching her arms, Jackie exhaled and envisioned herself as a character newly reborn. She would become Astoria, truly embodying her.
When the overhead light cast her in a warm glow, she looked at her hands as though in wonder that she was alive. "What... what happened? Leon?"
Her eyes scanned the surroundings wildly, and she sucked in a sharp gasp when she found the spilled ink quill and smeared pages stained with crimson. Afterwards, her gaze slid to his unmoving form. Hesitantly, she walked over and reached out a shaking hand to turn him over, then cradled his head in her lap.
"Tell me this hasn't happened." With her elbows resting on the stage, Jackie lowered her head until her face was mere inches from his and cupped his cheek with a hand.
Liam's eyes fluttered open and his hand weakly clasped hers. "Astoria, you're back," he croaked.
"You... you've written me back to life." Mouth falling open in horror, she grasped the scattered pages. A scarlet pendant tumbled out of them and clattered against the ground. "What have you done?"
"You can't achieve what you want without sacrifice," he wheezed, and his chest rose up and down with heavy breaths. One grabbed the pendant and held it out to Jackie. "My heart... I traded it. My humanity for yours."
"No, no," she cried and shook her head. "You shouldn't have done this. I shouldn't be real. I shouldn't be alive."
"I don't care." Liam reached for her face. "I just needed to see you again."
"Take it back." Jackie lowered the pendant to his chest.
"Don't," he snapped.
Although Liam's hand grabbed hers to stop it, she continued pressing until his fingers twisted around the gem and it split in two. Wry laughter escaped his lips. "I suppose we can both keep half."
Despite the sickly green glow the lights cast on his skin, his voice strengthened. "Please stay."
Mr. Wilson whispered to Aarav who nodded and waved a hand to cut them off. "Alright, let's try again from the top. This time, Jackie, a little less shrill on your last line."
"Did I make a great dying guy?" joked Liam, who was still laying on the ground, which elicited a couple snickers from the other actors.
Mr. Wilson sighed and shook his head before massaging his temples. Meanwhile, Aarav returned Liam's comment with a dark glower made no less intense by the glare of his thick glasses. With the clap of his hands, everyone fell silent. "Now that we're all focused, let's continue rehearsal."
. . .
Torture, as Aarav would come to find out, equaled being wedged in a booth between his teammates while they inhaled burgers after cross country practice. While swirling the spoon around in his milkshake, he avoided eye contact. If it weren't for his parents' insistence, Aarav would've never taken up sports. However, cross country would add to his resume—one more extracurricular to tell Stanford about—and he didn't mind it too much.
"Are you finishing that?" Damien asked, pointing with a fork at the milkshake.
Without a word, he slid it over before losing himself in thought once more. He would've spent the rest of the hour locked in his head if not for Liam jabbing him in the ribs. "Loosen up a little."
"Shut up." But Aarav forced a smile anyway. He'd only agreed to come out of the sacred honor of childhood friendship.
The blond simply rolled his eyes and burst into conversation with the rest of the table, and boisterous laughter filled the diner. Underneath the table, he clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling like a stretched wire ready to snap at any moment. Restlessly, he tapped his foot under the table. Aarav gritted his teeth and pressed his twitching hands against the edge of the chair.
In an instant, he stood and excused himself from the table, muttering a vague explanation that his parents wanted him home that night. The second the door swung shut behind him, the tension seeped from his body. Aarav climbed into his car and sat alone in the dark, staring blankly out at the night. He retrieved the stash of cigarettes hidden underneath a mess of old crumpled homework and napkins. He pressed the cigarette to a lighter, but his hands spasmed and it jerked away from the flame, rolling under the seat. Aarav released a rattling breath and adjusted his glasses.
Reaching over, he checked the time on the dashboard. 8:43. With a sigh, he leaned back in his seat and tilted his head to the ceiling. Only when it hit 8:45 did he turn the key in the ignition and start the engine.
Aarav drove around aimlessly. While exhausted, he didn't want to return home just yet, although he couldn't explain the feeling of reluctance. Cruising under the eternal stretch of inky night sky, he rolled down the window. The outside air was warm and comforting, the slight humid offset by an occasional breeze. If Aarav listened closely, he could hear the faint sound of chirping crickets.
He slipped a stick of tobacco between his lips and flicking the lighter, ignited an orange spark. The ends of the cigarette crumbled away into gray ash, and he inhaled sharply. With the release of smoke followed the tension seeping from his body, superseded by an immediate relaxation.
After a moment, he stopped at a bridge that overlooked a little pond surrounded by tall pines. Rippling silver-blue water reflected the pale moonlight while the smell of fresh earth and grass hung in the air. After shutting off the engine, Aarav stepped out the car and walked closer.
Down by the bank was a slender figure shrouded in shadows. Carefully, he made his way closer, stepping over precarious stones and trying not to lose his balance on the steep hill, causing leaves and twigs to crunch beneath his shoes.
The stranger turned around and Aarav found himself face-to-face with a girl. Round dark eyes and long black hair. A tiny nose with a low bridge. Wide oval face and golden-toned skin. He blinked upon realizing who it was.
"Jackie, what are you doing here?"
She shrugged. Her gaze shifted to the cigarette between his fingers. "I could ask the same of you."
"Needed some time to think."
"So did I." The girl seated herself on a larger rock, the tips of her feet grazing the water. The air was still and quiet as though the noise and chaos of the world had been shut away. "It's peaceful out here."
Aarav dropped the cigarette and ground it out beneath his foot, crushing all sparks. He pushed his glasses up his nose and examined her. Jackie's demeanor was relaxed and open, and her eyes carried an unusual innocence.
"What are you doing?"
"Skipping stones." First, she found a pebble and weighed it in her hand while she looked out at the water. Next, she tossed it into the pond. Immediately, a disappointed look flashed across her face when the stone simply sunk.
"Or trying to," Jackie corrected.
Aarav almost rolled his eyes at how pathetic the attempt was. Almost, that is, until he reminded himself that he was supposed to be nice. He picked up a round, flat rock and gripped it between his thumb and pointer finger. With the flick of a wrist, he sent the rock skipping five times into the water.
Jackie's eyes widened. "Wait, do that again."
Lips curling into a slight smirk, he handed her another rock, then explained the technique and guided her hand around it. As for Jackie, she listened with rapt attention as though a lecture on skipping stones was the most interesting thing she'd heard all night. Again, she launched the pebble into the pond.
Aarav snorted when the rock sank. "Not much of a competition now."
"So now it's a contest?" She raised her eyebrows in a challenging look. "You're on."
When she tossed another rock, it only skipped twice. An improvement, though not enough to beat Aarav's initial try. Jackie grumbled. "How are you skilled at this anyway?"
"I used to skip rocks in my pool, which infuriated my mother. She claimed they would contaminate the mineral water."
"You have a pool at your house?"
"Don't most people?" Aarav raised his eyebrows. Why was she acting as if it was a foreign concept? Not like he owned a white tiger.
"Forget it." The girl simply shrugged and turned away. "Anyway, it's not fair that you already got practice beforehand. This is my first time so this contest is rigged."
"Life isn't meant to have a level playing field." He tossed another stone, this attempt reaching seven times.
"Show-off." Jackie hopped back onto her rock and crossed her legs. While she toyed with the red ribbon in her hair, the other hand drummed against the surface.
"Giving up so easily?" He fought back a laugh but a chuckle escaped his lips. "So what were you thinking about earlier?"
"Getting personal, are we? Just stuff about my family. How about you?"
Aarav mulled over his answer and settled for a vague response, an explanation that wouldn't give away too much about himself.
"Sometimes my connection with people feels superficial." Although his friends were tolerable, he doubted they would continue contact after high school.
"Superficial?"
"It's... convenient. Our parents know each other, so I might as well hang out with them."
"That sounds empty," Jackie muttered. "At least you have friends. Meanwhile, I don't know anyone."
At her words, Aarav frowned. While he was introverted, even he admitted that he couldn't stand being alone for too long. After all, it was human nature to interact with others, and the need must've been stronger for someone like Jackie—who seemed to thrive off validation from her peers.
"It's just lonely, you know?" she continued speaking. "I'm grateful I can attend a great school, but it's exhausting to be the new kid."
"Can't understand what that's like."
Jackie shrugged her shoulders. "It's not your fault."
"Maybe you'll grow closer to people in the play."
"Maybe."
The girl was silent for a moment and twirled a blade of grass around her finger. It wound tightly around her skin before she released it and set her hands in her lap.
"Do you ever wish for more genuine friends?"
"Sometimes." He turned to look at her. She had a round oval face that was framed by long dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. There was a certain earnestness in it that he didn't find in most people.
"Maybe it'll help if you quit acting like a drill sergeant when directing, and you know, actually be a nice person?" Jackie teased.
"That's a low blow." Aarav slid his twitching hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. She was right despite her playful tone.
He thought of what to say to her. Something nice? That had never been his strong suit. "Well, I enjoyed your performance during rehearsals."
There, everyone enjoyed being lauded for talent. His walls lowered a bit now. Jackie kept her composure, but he didn't miss the gleam of excitement in her brown eyes.
"Thanks." She hummed and fiddled with her hands. "So you admit it: I'm not that terrible of an actress."
"I never said that."
"Your behavior implied it."
"No, you make rash assumptions."
"And to think that I was beginning to tolerate you. Now you're back to being insufferable." Her voice was soft, lilting. Sweet and lighthearted.
"Fortunately, I'm leaving." Hands in his pockets, Aarav turned to head back to his car. To his surprise, the little interaction had improved his mood. The weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter. Alas, all wonderful things came to an end. It was already late and no doubt his mother would be worrying over his whereabouts.
"Hey wait."
He hesitated and turned around to look back at her. She stood under the moonlight, the soft glow catching strands of flowing black hair. "What is it?"
A look of uncertainty crossed her features and she bit her lip. "I wanted to say bye."
"I'll see you in school, Jackie."