Chapter 4
"So you're asking me why I'd destroy something I spent two weeks arranging for her?" I said.
I looked at Emilia and said, "Emilia, why don't you come up with a reason for me?"
Emilia's face went pale for a moment, but she bounced back fast, and her eyes reddened on cue.
"Galilea, I never said it was you. I told the counselor at the time, I wasn't sure, maybe I just lost it myself," Emilia said.
"Yeah, that's what you said." I nodded. "Your so-called 'uncertainty' was just telling the counselor only you and I had keys to the dressing room.
The private room went dead silent.
Emilia's tears finally spilled over, and she turned to Rashad, her eyes pleading. "Rashad."
Rashad's fork paused in midair, his expression turning grim.
He didn't say a word.
The air hung heavy for a few seconds before Kayla finally broke the silence.
"Alright, let's not dredge up the past. Come on, let's drink." Kayla said.
Everyone chimed in, pretending nothing had just happened.
But I caught a hint of something in Rashad's eyes when he looked at Emilia.
It was barely noticeable, so subtle that Emilia didn't even catch it.
Shannon still hadn't arrived.
I glanced at my phone. Another twenty minutes had passed.
Cameron messaged me: [Shannon's still about half an hour away. Do you want me to come get you first?]
I replied: [No need, I'll wait.]
As I put my phone away, I caught Emilia watching me from across the table, like she was sizing me up.
Our eyes met for a split second, and she immediately looked away, lowering her head to laugh and chat with the person next to her.
She played her part flawlessly.
Suddenly, I was struck by a feeling.
Six years had gone by, and she'd only gotten better at playing her part.
Back in college, she was the campus queen. Now, she looked even more elegant, nothing like the timid girl in a floral dress who used to call me "Miss Hensley." She was a completely different person.
I could still picture the first time she knocked on our dorm room door.
She transferred in sophomore year and got the spare bed in our dorm.
She barely brought anything with her and was all bones, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm Emilia White. Hope we get along."
When she smiled, two little dimples showed up, which made one just want to be good to her.
I was good to her.
She didn't know her way around, so I took her all over campus.
She was afraid of the dark, so I always walked her back to the dorm after night classes.
Money was tight for her, so I always paid for her meals.
She told me she never had an older sister and asked if she could treat me like her older sister.
I said sure.
And she really did, for a whole year.
Later, she found out Rashad was chasing after me.
She said, "Galilea, Rashad's such a great guy. You should say yes to him."
She was more eager than anyone to push us together.
She helped Rashad figure out what I liked, helped him plan his confession, and even decorated the classroom for my birthday.
I really thought she was happy for me.
But everything changed that winter in our junior year.
One day, I went back to the dorm early to grab something. When I pushed the door open, I saw Emilia sitting on my bed, scrolling through my phone.
She didn't even notice me come in.
I stood in the doorway, watching her for three seconds. She scrolled to my chat history with Rashad, and the look on her face wasn't curiosity.
It was pure hatred.
I'd never seen her look like that before.
She seemed like a totally different person from how she usually acted.
I called out to her, and she nearly threw my phone. Then, in a flash, she switched to that innocent look.
Emilia said, "Galilea, your phone fell on the floor. I just picked it up for you."
I didn't say anything.
But from that day on, I started keeping an eye on her.
And that was when I started noticing a lot of things I'd never paid attention to before.
The notebook I gave her? She handed it off to someone else and claimed it was hers.
She never mentioned that I helped her with her homework. Instead, she'd sometimes make it sound like, "Galilea's under so much pressure from her studies. She always asks me to help her relax."
She followed all of Rashad's social media accounts, liked and commented on every single post, but she never mentioned him around me.
Each of these things on its own didn't seem like much, but when I put them all together, it was like a web she'd been weaving for over a year.
By the time I realized what was going on, the web she'd spun had already tightened around me.
It was Christmas Eve in the second semester of my junior year.
Rashad said he'd spend Christmas Eve with me, but he got a call and rushed out.
I waited for two hours, but his phone was switched off.
My roommate told me she saw his car driving to the restaurant near the back gate of the school.
I took a cab and rushed over. When I looked through the big windows of the restaurant, I froze at what I saw.