Thalia and Valentina are sworn enemies, their relationship defined by icy glares and cutting remarks. Everyone knows of their mutual disdain, but beneath the surface lies a tangled mess of near-kisses and stolen glances. When Thalia exposes the trut...
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I sat at the edge of my bed, my knee bouncing like it had a mind.
My phone was still in my hand, screen dark, her name stamped across the top of our last conversation like a bad rash I couldn't scrub off.
She left me on read. Again.
Now, every creak in the hallway, every hum of a car outside, made my stomach twist. I didn't want her in my space.
Not when my mom would fawn over her like some long-lost daughter and I'd be expected to pretend everything between us was... fine.
But it wasn't. It never was.
Then it came—the dreadful ring of the doorbell.
I was already on my feet before my brain could catch up.
And there it was: my mother, arms wrapped around Thalia like a long-lost family reunion.
Fucking great.
When they pulled apart, my mom turned to me with that expectant sparkle in her eye.
"Hun, why didn't you tell me Thalia was coming over?"
Maybe because she invited herself into my fucking house without asking?
"Uh... must've slipped my mind, Mama. I apologize."
And there it was. Her stupid smirk.
She liked this—seeing me flustered and frazzled like some broken doll.
I hated it.
"Ah, it's no biggie, Ms. Monroe!" Thalia chirped, fake sweet. "And Val we are just gonna work on our school project and then I'll be out of your hair!"
It always amazed me how easily she put on that mask.
Like none of this tension existed.
Like we were still those stupid little girls braiding friendship bracelets in my backyard.
"Yep, let's get to it," I said, already walking off. "The faster we finish, the faster Thalia can go home. I'm sure she wouldn't wanna miss dinner or whatever."
My mother shot me a look. The kind that screamed, *Stop being rude to the guest.*
But Thalia wasn't a guest.
She was a roach.
A roach that kept crawling back into my life no matter how many times I tried to kill the son of bitch.
I made direct eye contact with her, hoping she'd catch the message. Aka: *Get the fuck out of my house, you witch.*
"Right... anywho, nice seeing you, Ms. Monroe," she said with that performative little giggle.
"Tell your mother I said hello!" my mum called after her. "Ooh, we should have dinner sometime! But I'll let y'all work. Have fun, girls!"
"Oh, of course, dinner would be amazing! I'll let my mom know for sure she'd love it."
