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Chapter Text

A chorus of ‘happy birthdays’ rung out around her, making her giggle and flush under the attention. 

“You got me a cake?” Evangeline asked the two girls standing over her, Scarlett holding the cake while Tella held the lighter with just a little too much excitement, a little too close to her styled and excessively hairsprayed curls.  Eva’s eyes were wide and on the verge of happy tears.

“Of course we did, Eves, 13 is a very important age,” Scarlett said, setting the cake down in front of her.

“And you are a very important girl!” Tella said gleefully, bouncing up and down, despite the lighter being forced out of her hand so Scarlett could light the candles. 

Evangeline swallowed hard, pressing her lips together trying not to cry and embarrass herself or ruin the makeup her stylist had worked so hard on minutes before.  But — she had never had friends who wanted to celebrate her birthday with her, which to be fair was partially her fault because every year she really just wanted to celebrate with her parents instead.  But even so, she had many, many friendly acquaintances.  Not many friends.  And though the girls were 16 and 17, which seemed ages away from Evangeline’s newfound 13, she knew that the warmth that was filling her heart was because they cared, like friends would.

She sprung up out of her chair and threw her arms around both girls.  Scarlett hugged Eva gently and thoroughly, and Tella was, as always, buzzing with energy and hugged the breath out of Eva quickly before pushing her back to her seat. 

“Now blow out your candles and make a wish, preferably a very dramatic, very ridiculous one.”

Scarlett snorted, “she’s not you, Tel, don’t give her any ideas.”

Eva smiled up at them, the candlelight shining in her eyes before she shut them and thought ‘what else do I possibly have to wish for?’

In hindsight there were many, many things Evangeline could’ve wished for.  World peace, maybe a pet, protection for her friends, safety for her family, happiness for everyone.  Maybe if she had been more observant and less sheltered she would’ve seen the remnants of bruises that peaked out from Scarlett’s sleeves.  And maybe she would’ve wondered why Tella insisted her makeup be done on her own when for every other process she basked in the presence of others.  Maybe Evangeline would’ve noticed her mother was skipping work to go to doctor’s appointments constantly.  And maybe she could’ve wished all those things better.

But she had been filled with such a sense of joie de vivre back then that in that moment she couldn’t think of a single thing she would want to change.  And looking back, she couldn’t even wish that her younger self had been more aware of everything that was to come.  She couldn’t wish that her 13 year old self had known that every birthday after this one would be cursed, that after it all, that bliss would not be her daily life but instead would be a fleeting sensation, never pure and always marred.  She wouldn’t want to take that last day of true, unadulterated joy away from herself.  It was those memories that she needed to get through everything that happened after that. 

So she opened her eyes, smiled, and blew out the candles, laughing as everyone cheered for her, then laughed some more when she choked on the smoke coming from the candles.  How lucky she was that her life was so charmed, that everyday was this perfect. 

Exactly five years later

She blinked once.  Twice.  Tilted her head, not able to reconcile what she was seeing with her reality.  But then again, Evangeline had always been too trusting, too optimistic.  Maybe if she thought about it long enough this actually made perfect sense. 

Standing on the sidewalk in front of her house she stared into her kitchen window.  And no matter how many times she closed and opened her eyes she was faced with the same image - Luc, her boyfriend, with his tongue down Marisol’s throat. 

“Oh! God,” she squeaked covering her eyes and planting herself on the sidewalk when she saw Marisol reach down from her perch on their counter to grab at Luc’s…oh god. 

Nausea from the bus she had just gotten off of was only amplified by the scene, Evangeline tried to take some calming breaths and ground herself.  One. In. Two. Out. And so on until she felt she could take on a little bit more reality.

She was still a little shaky, but sitting on the sidewalk in the city was not really a sustainable hiding spot, she’d already been glared at and bumped into by a few pedestrians and their low swinging bags.  So she stood up, backpack in tow, and walked through the front door before she could stop herself. 

Her eyes closed as she turned into the kitchen, hoping and praying that it was some kind of hallucination she had seen outside.  She opened only one of them before her futile hopes were quickly crushed and she opened the other, faced with the same horrible truth.

“Eva!” Marisol breathlessly said, her voice two octaves higher than normal.  Her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were wide, a deer in headlights.  Evangeline immediately had to repress the desire to apologize to her for barging in when Mari was so clearly uncomfortable. 

Luc wiped his mouth with his hand and let it linger on his chin before awkwardly dropping it with a sigh, “Eva,” he said, “we didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

Evangeline just stared at them, her mouth slightly agape.  She had cheer practice three days a week, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, which ended at 5:00 promptly.  Tuesdays the football team had off when they were out of season, and since it was May she always came home instead of heading to her father’s shop to work, hoping to spend some time with Luc.  This had been true every single day.  For the past four years. 

“I’m always home at 5:30 on Tuesdays,” she managed to say, “every week.”

Neither of them seemed to have anything to say in response. 

After several more moments of strained silence Marisol stuttered out, “We were making you birthday cupcakes.”

Evangeline didn’t need to look on the counter where Marisol was gesturing, she saw the chocolate batter on their clothes and faces well enough.

Marisol opened her mouth to say something else but Eva shook her head incredulously, her hands gesturing out towards the pair who had hardly moved an inch from each other. “Marisol, I saw you.”

A high pitched noise came from Marisol’s throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth and threw her head down.

“Look, babe, it was just…” It was all Eva could do to just sit there and listen to Luc explain while Marisol shed her self-pitying tears.

“Luc, you’re hooking up with my sister,” Evangeline interrupted whatever he had been saying with an expression that she thought spelled it out for him.  There was nothing he could say, no explanation within the bounds of reality that he could use to save himself. 

Instead all he said was, “your step-sister.”

Evangeline’s jaw unhinged, “are you,” she was flabbergasted, “why does that matter? Do you think that makes it any better?” Now it was her voice that was rising in octaves.

Luc just shrugged, having the nerve to meet her gaze head on with not even an ounce of shame.

“Oh come on, Eva, don’t be sore.  I thought you cared about the both of us, don’t you want us to be happy?”

Right now? Not really. Eva was horrified at the cruel sentiment and forced herself to say out loud “of course I do! I just… you’re cheating on me.  I think, I mean I’m supposed to be mad.” Then his words registered a little clearer in her mind and she tilted her head.  “Wait, ‘you want us to be happy’” she quoted, “are you saying you’re breaking up with me right now to be with my step-sister,” she emphasized the word to dig at him, making sure he was aware that she wouldn’t be moving on from that comment anytime soon.   

Clearly he either didn’t understand it or he just didn’t care because all he said was a lackluster, “yeah.” And then he threw an arm around Marisol, which she quickly hid her face in, while Luc stared at Eva expectantly.

Finally, she couldn’t keep the tears at bay and a few leaked out the corner of her eyes while she stood staring at them, at a loss for words.  “I-- I don’t… but, it’s my birthday,” was all she managed to say.  Her already flimsy mask crumpled when she said ‘birthday’ and the sheer desolation and pure hurt she was feeling became quite evident on her face.  It rocked through her body and she had to clutch the doorframe beside her to keep herself standing.

When she looked down at her whitened knuckles holding on for dear life she was reminded of her idiotic, sparkling little promise ring that Luc had given her months ago.  She looked at it and felt like such a pathetic, naive teenage girl.  Why was it that she felt so, so stupid for something that wasn’t her fault.  She hated it, she hated it.  And she hated that stupid ring, so she tore it off her finger and tossed it to the ground.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots, Marisol, I wouldn’t get too attached,” was the last thing Eva said before dashing up to her room, heart broken and world shattered. 

Marisol and Luc’s relationship didn’t even last 48 hours before he broke up with her. 

9:40 p.m. — Eva, baby, please talk to me.

10:00 p.m. — Marisol was a mistake.  In a moment of weakness I let her to seduce me. 

10:10 p.m. — Please, can we talk about this?

10:15 p.m. — I’ve forgiven you for things too, don’t you think I deserve some grace?

That was it, the last straw.  Pathetic text after pathetic text from Luc mere hours after he had broken up with Marisol.  And that last text, it left a rancid taste in her mouth, more so than the others.  Evangeline shot straight up in her bed, the text had reminded her of something, that one awful conversation that had been echoing in her mind for weeks and weeks.  And she had someone right there that could answer her question. 

She tossed her phone on the bed before slipping out her door and across the hall to knock in rapid succession on Marisol’s door.  She opened it with a look of surprise written all over her face, but before she could think of anything to say Evangeline asked, “how long?”

Marisol’s bloodshot eyes looked a little dazed and a lot confused.

“How long, Mari,” Evangeline emphasized, “How long were you sleeping with him?”

“Oh,” she looked stricken, down at her feet, refusing to meet Evangeline’s gaze.  “I didn’t mean… I mean it started sort of,” she stuttered, Evangeline sighed and put her hand on Marisol’s arm.

“It’s okay,” she said, as gently as possible. “I don’t need a detailed timeline, I just need to know how long it’s been going on.”

Marisol looked up with wide eyes and a screwed up nose, looking like she was trying not to cry.  Evangeline’s stomach twisted when she said,  “March.”

“March?  For two months?” Evangeline’s eyes widened.  “Wait, before or after spring break?” When Marisol didn’t answer Evangeline reached farther down and grabbed both her hands.  “Mari, please, before or after break?”

This time Marisol didn’t look back up at Eva to answer.  “Before.”

Evangeline felt her breath shudder.  She dropped Marisol’s hands and looked at the ceiling to keep any tears from falling.  When she felt stable enough she brought her head down and a soft scoff came out. 

She gave a half-hearted, “Okay, thanks,” before walking out and shutting Marisol’s door, not before hearing Marisol’s sobs start.  Evangeline’s bleeding heart tightened but she was too lost in memory to forgive Marisol at the moment. 

Their spring break was seared into Evangeline’s mind.  The confrontation between her and Luc played over and over, and now it was somehow far better and far worse than it had been before. 

The sun was shining in through the window.  Eva stretched out in the mid morning sun, content beside Luc on the floor of their beach rental.  They weren’t too far from home, just the beach front near the city, but it felt like a whole new world.

“Oh I wish we didn’t have to leave,” Evangeline said, turning to face Luc who sat in the armchair above her.

He smiled down, “I know, the beach suits you.  Look at you, you’re sunbathing like a cat.”

She giggled and scrunched her face a bit, “I know, I love it.”  She heard his tell-tale chuckle above her and opened her eyes to him holding out his hands to help her sit up.

“You know,” he started, pulling her up to a sitting position, “we still have today to make count.”  A smile spread across her face before she broke into a little squeal when he pulled her up by the arms, the force tipping her over into his chair. 

“Hi there.”

“Hi,” he echoed then leaned forward to press his lips to hers. 

Their first kiss had been sweet, a little fumbling, a little awkward, but Evangeline thought it had been perfect.  It was the kind of kiss that held promises of the future and nothing but pure intentions.  But now, she thought as they continued their slightly less than chaste kiss, and she felt a bit of his tongue sliding against hers, she was hoping maybe their intentions could be just a little less pure.

When he pulled away, breathing in and out heavily with his forehead pressed against hers, he paused.  “Eva, your heart is beating so fast, what’s going on?”

“I,” she steeled herself, mustering up the courage to just communicate what she wanted to him, “I have a question for you.  Or like a request, kind of?  I just want to talk about something.”

“You’re saying ‘we need to talk’?  Eva, that phrase stresses a guy out.”

“No! No not like a, ‘babe we need to talk’ break-up speech I really mean just talk, it doesn’t have to be a whole thing I shouldn’t have brought it up like this, it’s fine, we can just forget about it,” she rambled, suddenly remembering why she had put it off for so long — anxiety crawled up her throat and squeezed, she felt like she could hardly breathe.

Luc ran his hands up and down her arms, “Woah, Eva, just breathe.  It’s fine, it’s just me, remember?” He gave her one of those charming, quarterback smiles and she loosed a breath, giving him a small one in return,“what did you wanna talk about?”

“Right.  I was just wondering how you felt about, like, going a little further?” She winced at her own clunky words and looked down at her hands. 

“‘Further’? I’m not really following, E, what do you mean?”

Deep breath.  “I mean, so we’ve been dating over a year, right?”

“Right.”

“And I really like kissing you,” he cut her off with a quick peck on the lips and they both let out a little laugh.

Her shoulders relaxed a little more, this was Luc.  He was so good to her, she should be able to talk to him about anything, especially this.

“Okay,” she made direct eye contact this time and tried to unclench her hands, “I just want to know, physically, what you’re comfortable with going forward.  Or what you want,” she couldn’t help but tack on a nervous, “sort of?” to the end of her phrase when Luc leaned back in the chair with brows furrowed. 

“Eves,” she grabbed her neck, anxiously rubbing circles around her collarbone at the trepidation in his tone, “you’re not talking about, I mean, sex,” he stretched the word out awkwardly, “right?” If Evangeline hadn’t been so stressed in the moment she would have laughed at the way his tone dropped to a quieter whisper with each word. 

He looked at her expectantly, “Not just like actual sex, right, I mean everything in between.  I just…wanted to talk about it,” she hesitated when his brow somehow grew more furrowed and his frown deepened into something that made Evangeline wish she had never said anything at all.

He took a deep, somewhat condescending breath and let it out before gently pushing Eva off of him and into the chair opposite his.  She pressed her lips together, trying to stay calm.

“Evangeline, this isn’t, that’s not us,” she felt her breakfast roil in her stomach as he continued, “it’s not fair of you to tempt me like this, I thought we were on the same page,” he shook his head and Evangeline had to swallow her tears.

“I know, that’s why I brought it up, I thought having a discussion about it might be good.”

He rubbed his hand over his face before looking at hers, “This isn’t that kind of thing, it shouldn’t have been a conversation at all, Eva.” his voice was far louder than her quiet one had been and she felt herself shrinking into the chair, “we go to the same church, I thought we had the same values, but you’re acting like, like—”

She stopped him, “I grew up at a different one, you know that,” she remembered the small, old and beautifully constructed little building her parents had taken her to every now and again.  She certainly believed in God, or a god, or some godlike entity, but she had trouble with all the rules, her imagination was too big, her heart too soft, and her mind too forgiving to understand most of them.  Luc partially knew that, but she tried to avoid it since it upset him so much. 

“But we both believe in honoring God, Eva, lust is a sin and you’re being completely unfair to me by bringing this up, especially in that—” he gestured to her pink bikini top with the little heart cut out in the middle, and the jean shorts with the matching pink bikini bottoms peaking out on her hips.  She had little braids in and her rosy hair was wavy and crazy from the salt-water and humidity.  She loved this swimsuit, and she had felt rather pretty in an all-American, beach girl kind of way.  She had been under the impression he thought so too.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Luc,” she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, now, the guilt was slowly but surely eating her alive from the inside out.  “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything like that I just thought maybe you felt the same way but, but it doesn’t matter I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she kept repeating herself, trying to meet his gaze as he continued to look anywhere but her.

“Eva I just need some time, I don’t know if I can resist or even handle my girlfriend for the next few years, and maybe my future wife acting like such a slut.”

Evangeline was sobbing, tears and snot running all down her face and into her hair, now she was sure her face looked as disgusting as she felt.  She ran out of the room, mortification drowning out any potential anger and she locked herself in the bedroom her and Marisol were sharing until Marisol quietly came in and let her know when Luc had left that evening. 

When they got back to school the week after the beach Luc surprised her with the ring, supposedly a promise of his commitment to their relationship.  He’d handed it to her with his soft brown eyes, pleas of forgiveness dripping from his lips — she had forgiven him in a heartbeat. 

Evangeline threw herself on her bed face down and curled into a ball until it was too difficult to breathe, and even then she only tilted herself over so she was in fetal position, holding herself in the way she wished her mom was there to do, so, so badly. Her cheek to the comforter she frowned when the damp sensation rubbed against her -- she didn't know when she had started crying, just that all the sudden she felt the moisture dribbling across her face and could taste the salt between her lips. She shuddered and turned herself face down on the bed once more so she could let out a scream of defeat without disturbing anyone.

Chapter Text

Evangeline appreciated it, she really did, but it was getting hard to breathe at this point. 

“Clara,” she tried to say, her words muffled against her shoulder, “Clara!” She tried louder, this time pushing back on the hand Clara had clasped on the back of her head, holding her in the well-meaning hug. 

When she was finally able to pull away, she took a big breath in, probably a little more dramatically than she had to.

“Oh, I’m so sorry dear, it’s just—” she interrupted herself when moisture welled in her eyes, “oh it’s just so awful, I haven’t the slightest idea how someone could do that to our Evangeline,” Clara’s pity quickly morphed into anger, “Oh just wait until I tell Joan, she’ll go over to his house and wipe that smug grin off his face,” Evangeline just nodded her head indulgently, trying to let Clara get out some of that protective rage that cropped up every now and then, but then her face shifted again.  She turned her eyes on Evangeline, pity at the forefront once more, “oh we tried for your sake, lovey, but Luc was never really our favorite, you always deserved better than some Bible-thumping, middling, small town quarterback.”

“We live in a city,” Eva quipped back, but Clara didn’t really seem to be listening to her.

“You know he was just never quite infatuated with you enough, you know Joan got me a bouquet of flowers every week when we met,” her rant was broken up by the love-struck smile her face unwittingly fell into every time she brought up Joan, “naturally I started following suit, bringing her flowers every week too.  We still do, you know, farmer’s market flowers, they’re quite lovely—” Eva didn’t mind this turn of conversation, she was determined to never be someone so bitter she couldn’t enjoy stories of epic romance and happy endings, and she loved Joan and Clara with all her heart.  Even though Clara had lapsed back into telling her what an idiot Luc was, and how really Eva was lucky to be rid of him, and—

“Clara,” she broke in, “thank you, really, I mean it, it’s nice to have someone on my side about this, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”  Eva spoke to her with a gentle but imploring tone, though Clara was always one to encourage Evangeline to speak her mind, never making her feel bad for saying what she wanted. 

And just as Evangeline predicted, Clara didn’t look hurt in the slightest, she just looked wistful and worried…which Evangeline had to think was an upgrade from the pity, at the very least. 

“I’ll say one more thing, angel, then we can move on, I swear,” she held up her hand, “scout’s honor.”  Evangeline let out a little smile and raised her eyebrows, motioning with her hand for Clara to go on.  Clara sighed, moved her hand to gently rest on Evangeline’s. 

“You are the most resilient person I have ever met.  I treasure your optimism and your relentless romanticism, you’ve always been our little princess, ever since your parents brought you home from the hospital and we were allowed to come visit and lay our eyes on your pink little face.” Oh.  Oh.  Now Evangeline was tearing up, again.  “But it’s okay, you know, if even you need reminding sometimes that what your life is now is not what it will always be.  You are so young, Eva, just eighteen.  I know Luc was your first love, but he will not be your last.”

“But wasn’t Joan your first love?” Evangeline couldn’t stop herself from asking, that’s what she had always assumed, given that most of the stories she heard from Clara were about her time growing up with her mother.

“My first?” Clara laughed and closed her eyes before looking at Evangeline again, “Lord, no, she was not the first person I fell in love with.  But she is the very best.  All the heartbreak pales in comparison to that joy.”  She looked at Evangeline again with those knowing eyes, “I know you always think about your parents, but every love story is different, and theirs is an exceptional case“ Clara sighed, “just don’t forget that even though they first met and fell in love in high school they spent years apart before finding one another again.  They were an entire decade older than you, by then.”

Evangeline nodded, she knew her parents’ story like the back of her hand, knew it better than the back of her hand, probably. 

“Luc is not your Maximillian, hon, and you are certainly not his Liana,” Eva just nodded again, trying to internalize that truth.  Then Clara snorted, “he’ll never get one, not with the way he’s getting on,” now that made Evangeline smile but it quickly dropped — when had she become such a vindictive person?

“You know,” Evangeline said before she could stop herself, “I think a part of me would have been disappointed forever if that was what my epic love was going to look like,” she let out a scoffing laugh of her own, “I would have married him of course, done it all, everything I was supposed to, and I don’t know if I ever would have woken up, in that future, unless he forced me to.”  The thought was too much for Evangeline, it was clashing too strongly with the fresh grief of the loss of what she had thought of as her future. 

“Ugh,” she groaned and flopped herself over the register, “I’m exhausted.”  Clara let out a knowing hum before opening her mouth to respond when — ring.  The bell above the door rang and a small group of people, tourists by the looks of them, walked in.  Eva made a quiet, but reasonably pitiful whine.  Normally she loved talking with customers at her father’s antique shop, you could find out so much about a person based on what they were drawn to in the eclectic place, but she hadn’t slept much the night before, and her conversation with Clara had taken its emotional toll.

She felt a small hand pat her back, “Go out the back, honey, I can handle the place on my own for the rest of your shift.”  Evangeline opened her mouth to protest but Clara gave her one of those withering, ‘do you really want to talk back to me’ glares, and she merely placed a kiss on her cheek before dashing out the back. 

The walk back was not as lovely as she usually found it.  It was a particularly hot day, especially given that it was only spring, but the Carolinian humidity yielded for nothing and Eva was suddenly glad for the two braids she had put her hair in so she couldn’t see it steadily frizzing up around her.  Normally she embraced her home’s weather, she didn’t know anything else, but for the first time in her life she finally understood what everyone meant about the suffocating humidity.

She turned the corner that meant five more minutes on her walk home, and there was yet another bakery — it was the same space turning over each year with entrepreneurs who were sure theirs would be the one to last. 

Standing under the awning, a man holding a tray of free brownie or fudge looking treats was offering one to everyone who passed by.  Evangeline thought he was doing a valiant job keeping the smile plastered on even as she noticed the bead of sweat dripping down his temple. 

“Can I interest you in some chocolate-hazelnut fudge cake?”

Though she had to admit she was intrigued by the conglomerate of dessert words shoved into one title, she automatically smiled but shook her head — then a thought struck her and she doubled back. 

“Actually, could I take one, please?” The man acquiesced but raised an eyebrow at her somewhat sporadic behavior. 

“Sorry,” she blushed, “I don’t care for chocolate desserts, don’t tell anyone though it’s my greatest shame,” that at least got a chuckle out of him, “but my sister loves it.  She’s having a bad day, I thought this might cheer her up.”  The man nodded and gave a small smile once again but Evangeline realized he probably didn’t care much about her or Marisol or any of it so she ducked her head and walked into the bakery quickly, just to put some cash in the tip jar, before squeezing through the crowd and getting back on her way.

Before she got to far she heard — “you’re a very kind young lady,” from the man with the desserts.  She turned and offered him a bright smile, that only dimmed the more steps she took towards her house. 

  A few hours later Evangeline stood looking at herself in the mirror, brushing her hand down across her skirt, indecision tearing apart her insides.  She felt terribly beautiful in her prom dress, and she’d been looking forward to this night ever since her mom explained to her what a prom was.  It was the same conversation where her mom had told her she couldn’t be a debutante, like those pretty girls she saw giggling together in their white dresses, but she could dress up as much as her heart desired.

Of course she had in fact ended up “debuting” since Marisol was doing it, and it hadn’t been a particularly lovely experience, but that was all besides the point.  She needed to decide whether or not she was going. 

It had been the perfect moment, when that old woman had come into the shop looking to donate the dresses from her now closed atelier.  The kind of moment that made Evangeline sure fate existed, that God was looking out for her.  How else to explain the rom-com worthy fashion show Lillian, the dressmaker, and Clara, the store manager, insisted on.  And how else to explain the fact that the very last dress she tried on was the dress. 

The bust had looked a little risqué for her, only embroidered gems providing any coverage, but oh how she loved it.  It was a creamy iridescent material that swirled out at her hips in layers of tulle overlayed with the same light fabric.  She had worried it might look too bridal, but the colorful embroidery took away from that effect, made it more light and playful.  More Evangeline.

She had been beyond excited to wear it for prom night, to dance with Luc and feel like a true princess.  But now she was thinking maybe she shouldn’t go at all. 

But then she remembered the smile on Lillian’s face when she saw Evangeline in her dress.  And she knew she had to at least try.

Mind made up Evangeline steeled her shoulders and turned around to see Marisol standing in her door frame.    

Misery wound itself tightly in every part of Marisol’s face and demeanor, but it was more anxiety than anything else in her voice when she said, “Eva why are you going, you know it’s going to just as miserable as school, probably more.”

Evangeline sighed,“It’s simple.  I love this dress, and he doesn’t deserve to ruin this night,” she paused and looked at Marisol, a rather devious and stubborn glint in her eye,“for either of us, you’re coming with me.”

Marisol’s jaw dropped, “No.  Absolutely not.”

“Yes, come on, let’s get you ready,” Evangeline said, dragging Marisol to the bathroom.  “This is not a discussion!” She said in a sing-song voice when Marisol kept protesting. 

It took them a record-breaking half hour to get Marisol ready between the two of them. And Marisol looked so beautiful, Evangeline was proud of the both of them. 

“How do you feel?” Eva prodded.

Marisol gave her a reluctant smile in the mirror, “Rather pretty, I suppose.”

Evangeline gave her a soft push on the shoulder,“Oh you look stunning, Mari, truly.”  She gave Marisol a quick hug then pushed her out the door, “Come on, we need to catch the CARTA.”

Then out the door they went, both sisters playing pretend to themselves that Luc was a thing of the past.

Evangeline was not the kind of person who couldn’t admit when they made a mistake.  And, oh god, did she make a mistake.  The problem was that all of Eva’s friends were Luc’s friends too, and though Evangeline could be rather charming and got on with adults and strangers pretty well, she was not as charismatic as Luc, not be a long shot.  She just didn’t have as much to offer as he did, and she wasn’t as good at navigating high school politics the way everyone around her seemed to be, not that it had mattered while she was dating Luc.  No one cared who you were, really, when you were someone’s girlfriend.  Evangeline had noticed it before but never truly minded it, or at least that’s what she told herself most days.  But all the people she thought were her friends had apparently forgotten about her the second her and Luc broke up.  How many of them had known about the cheating?  Evangeline couldn’t tell if it was something he’d brag about to his guys or something he’d hide since Marisol didn’t really interact with their group at all. 

Marisol, Eva scanned the room to make sure she was still okay.  She had ditched Eva for her all her art friends pretty much instantly.  Not that Evangeline was surprised, anytime they were at a school function together no matter how much Eva tried to spend time with her and bond, or introduce her to her friends so they could get to know her step-sister better, Mari evaded her as quickly as possible. 

So Evangeline wandered around the edges, making small talk with people she only ever saw in the hallway, some people she didn’t think she’d ever seen in all her time at their school.  She didn’t know how much time had passed before she couldn’t stand it anymore, couldn’t be there and exist in that space a second longer. 

She ducked out into the opaque, windowless hallway, the cinder blocks making it feel like more of a prison than a school.

Though it had been an adjustment from the private school she had attended for elementary and middle, she might just prefer the public school to the constant comparison and guilt and morning prayers everyone said in unison when she attended the christian charter school.  Or maybe it was just her mind trying to trick her into believing the grass really was greener on the other side.  She supposed it didn’t matter for much longer anyway. 

The public school bathrooms though, almost criminal, really.  But in lieu of anything else to do, Evangeline walked in to wash her hands or put on more lip gloss, or anything at all.

But her monotonous plan came to a shuttering halt, because as soon as she walked in she was faced with three of her teammates — her closest friends, until last week.  Another deep breath.  There was no backing out now, so she slowly made her way into the room.   

“Hey girl,” Charlotte said to her, leaning over for a quick side hug.  “I hope you’re doing alright, I was so sorry to hear about the breakup.”  She looked a little nervous and Evangeline decided to put her out of her misery.  Maybe if they just cleared the air the girls would want or at least be okay with Evangeline hanging out with them again, even if it was only tonight. 

“Lottie, it’s totally okay.  We go to the same school in the same social network, I know you and Luc are seeing each other.  It’s really fine, I’m the one who broke it off in the first place.”

Charlotte paused for a moment to make sure the other shoe wasn’t going to drop before letting out a giant, dramatic breath.  “Oh thank the Lord, I was so worried.”  One of Charlotte’s greatest strengths had always been her ability to adapt quickly, Evangeline had always admired it.  And this conversation seemed to be no exception.  Evangeline’s misplaced hope that maybe things could be close to how they were before died a little more with each word Charlotte spoke. 

“He’s taking me out now but I seriously think if you actually texted him back he’d break it off in a heartbeat and come crawling back to you,” Charlotte didn’t look bothered by this as much as Evangeline thought she should, “so if you could, you know,” Eva furrowed her brows in confusion and shook her head, “just like, keep not texting him back, I’d really appreciate it.  And staying away during school is really helpful, too, it’s like maybe if he doesn’t see you he’ll internalize that you’re not an option and that you’re not his anymore.”  Charlotte finally finished her rollercoaster of a statement and honestly, Evangeline didn’t know how to respond to such a mindlessly cruel statement, but Charlotte didn’t seem to mind her speechlessness.   

“Anyway, we’re really excited for the summer competition, it’s going to be so fun.”

Evangeline couldn’t believe what was happening, she felt more like a witness to the interaction between herself and the girls than an actual participant, it was a surreal, out of body, ‘this cannot be reality’ kind of moment.  She seemed to be having a lot of those lately.  How could Charlotte pivot so quickly to extracurriculars?  And how could she think what she said was normal, or okay, or wouldn’t hurt Evangeline’s feelings at all.  Even when Eva had walked in on Marisol and Luc, even then she had never felt as utterly used and discarded and she did just then. 

She didn’t even think the words before she said them, she just looked at the girls in the mirror. 

“I quit.”

All of them turned around in unison, shock written all over them, freezing their tongues for a few still moments in time before protests began to roll out in excess. 

Evangeline was a good teammate, a good friend, and she never, ever made waves or did something to inconvenience someone.  But just then she didn’t care about the symmetricality of the routine or leaving them in lurch and whatever else they were saying at her — she just walked out, leaving them behind.

Unfortunately, the rate at which wildfires spread has nothing on news and rumors spread in grade school.  And by the time Evangeline had done a lap around all the parts off the school that weren’t blocked off and returned to the event, it felt like half the prom had heard that Eva had quit on her friends last minute.  It probably wasn’t even that many people, but it was enough.  Enough judgy eyes on her and whispers and backs turning that she was starting to wish she could just curl into herself and disappear.

It was because she was lost in those thoughts and simultaneously trying to battle the tears of mortification starting to crawl up her rapidly shrinking throat that she wasn’t watching where she was walking.  Her successful streak of avoiding Luc came to an unfortunate end when he sauntered right up to her without her noticing before it was too late.  “Hey.”

“Hey,” Evangeline echoed him and hoped he’d take the hint when she turned away, wanting to move away from him.  No such luck.

He scratched the back of his neck and called her name,“Eva, I know this break up has been really tough, but you can’t take it out on your team.  If we need to be together for a couple months just so you can focus and find your passion for cheering again, I think maybe we could do that.”  His sincere face dashed any hope Eva had that he might be joking. 

She steeled herself, anger making it easier to push down her tears and stand up for herself, she knew none of this was her fault, and she knew she had done nothing wrong and certainly nothing to deserve this treatment.  “Luc, quitting cheer was about how Charlotte treated me, her words and her choices, not you.  And it’s not like cheerleading is a big passion of mine, it’s a fun pastime, I liked the built in friends, but if you had listened to me at all during the course of our entire relationship you would know that.”

Surface level pain swam around in his big, brown eyes she used to love so much.  The eyes she used to crumble under every time.  “I know you.”

Evangeline gently scoffed while she rubbed her hands across her eyes to give them a break before looking at him again.  “What’s my favorite season?  Dream vacation?  What do I do in my spare time and what kind of music do I listen to and what kinds of books do I read?”  She rapidly listed off basic information about herself that she realized nobody else in her life paid attention to, she had just tricked herself into believing her boyfriend had. 

A beat of silence then, “Sci-Fi?”

This time he must be joking, Evangeline thought, and didn’t deign to dignify his words with a response. 

“I’m sorry, baby, please give me another chance.  Let me get to know you.”  She couldn’t do this anymore, she started to walk away.  He was impossible and she had blinded herself to more of his idiocy than she knew she was capable of. 

But then, he kept talking, and she just couldn’t help herself from turning back to him.  And Eva hated that he knew it. 

“Maybe, I have an idea that might help us get to know each other” he bit his lip and Evangeline couldn’t help the annoyance on her face at the clearly deliberate move that slipped out of her indifferent mask — she was never very good at feigned indifference in even the easiest of situations, and the practiced lip bite was really, really annoying. 

“Maybe I’m willing to reconsider what we talked about at the beach,” he raised his eyebrows aggressively as if she wouldn’t remember what he was referencing, as if that conversation hadn’t fundamentally altered something inside her, and brought life back into a seed of self hatred that she thought she had killed, that was growing rapidly and against her will every day. 

She opened and closed her mouth with only noises that were caught in her throat coming out about ten times before she gave up trying to address him head on.  Because her pride was wounded and her heart was broken, but there was that one tiny piece, the part Evangeline loathed that wanted to say yes, yes, take me back and we can get back on track, it can work.   

“Your favorite season is summer, you want to go to Hawaii, you like to play basketball with the little kids in the neighborhood in your spare time and you hate reading, you SparkNotes every book in every class, but your favorite movie is Talladega Nights and you listen to exclusively dad rock and worship rap.”

Now Luc was the one he seemed at a loss for words.

“I always knew you, Luc.  Or I thought I did, because the Luc in my mind never would have cheated on me,” she couldn’t stop the same tears that had haunted her for days from finally breaking past her barriers and welling up once again, “but maybe he never existed at all.”

“You always say the most pretentious, dramatic things, Eva, we’re in high school, everyone does idiotic crap.”  Evangeline started breathing faster and faster.  Why was he incapable of taking blame, and why was he always insulting her, and why was he acting like he didn’t ever like who she was at all?

“Eva?” His hand touched her wrist and she looked back at him.  Tears had started streaming down her face, and she must have looked a little deranged because he dropped her wrist and took a step back like she was radioactive.

“You,” she said, more anger in that one word than she had shown anyone in this school in all four years combined, “you are selfish, and a coward, and manipulative,” her voice grew with each word, cracking from the tears here and there but the volume didn’t lower.  “I am better off without you.  Leave me the fuck alone,” Luc sharply inhaled, Eva never cursed.  She was always a good girl, a polite child, a sweet sister, and a dutiful daughter.  But she didn’t feel like any of those things, she just felt pain both radiating out from her heart and crushing her ribs from the outside in. 

She moved her arms crossing her body, trying to hold herself together.  If she had any room left for other emotions she would have flushed red at the stares they seemed to be attracting.  But Luc opened his mouth, again, and Evangeline couldn’t stand it.

“I said leave me the fuck alone,” her voice faltered and broke for the first time this evening, on that last word, alone.  That’s what she was here, completely alone as everyone looked at her in the dress she had felt so pretty in, falling to pieces before their very eyes. 

She didn’t look at Luc again, instead she ran.  Weaving her way through the hoards of people to where Marisol had been earlier.

And there she was, secluded in a corner where nobody had even noticed the commotion Evangeline had caused. 

“I’m leaving,” Evangeline whispered, this time she was the one not making eye contact with Marisol instead of Marisol refusing to look at her. 

Marisol turned and looked at her, not hiding the shock on her face very well at all, “Oh, wow, Eva.  Are you…” her question trailed off and Evangeline didn’t offer an answer.  “Do you want me to come with you?” Marisol said after a few too many seconds of awkward silence.

“If you want to,” Eva responded quietly.  She knew what the answer would be, and she also knew Marisol would hedge around what she wanted to say until someone said it for her, so Evangeline saved them both the trouble.  She half-heartedly squeezed Marisol’s arm and said, “get home safe and text me if you’re staying over at someone else’s,” before turning on her heel and fleeing the scene of the crime. 

The thing about being the nice one, the girl who never gets to yell or stomp her foot or throw a tantrum, is that when something finally cracks you open, finishing off the fissures that had been building up and cracking within for years, is that too much comes out at once.  Logic and reason and all the values you hold that keep you from showing your rage seem to blink out of existence. 

And Evangeline was so mad, so fucking mad, because she loved women’s bathroom talk at parties, where everyone was just a little drunk so they were saying what they wanted to and exchanging compliments and dishing with people they’d never see again, and now Luc had ruined that too.  And she had believed that people, especially teenagers, were never as bad as everyone made them out to be, and Luc and the whole damn school had proven her wrong tonight and god she was just so angry.  Angry in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be in ages.  Angry in a way that hurt so much it was starting to feel a little like freedom.

So proceeding to write a song without changing out of the gown, or even taking off the ruined makeup is a little senseless, but understandable.  Proceeding to record a video in that dress with mascara running down her cheeks, was dramatic certainly, but still understandable.  But posting that video immediately for the world to see, with all the rage and pain and ugliness laid bare  — that isn’t just senseless, or understandable, instead that is, maybe, the worst decision someone could possibly make in that scenario, but if that someone is lucky, it will also be the start of the rest of their life.

Evangeline really had felt drunk on her tears, and her heartbreak.  Last night she hadn’t cared at all what people thought about her.  But this morning, she thought she was having an aneurysm when she opened her phone and saw all the likes and comments on her video.  100K views.  Not really viral by any means, but definitely more people viewing her video than she ever thought possible.

Oh God she could not go to graduation, if she thought she was dying of embarrassment at that moment, she thought she might genuinely combust and disappear from existence if she had to see everyone from school.  Oh God, oh God—

“Oh my God,” she moaned into her pillow.  What had she done?

The only thing now was to do damage control.  So what if a song going semi-viral was a dream of hers, what if she was still secretly harboring dreams of albums and Grammys and world tours.  She had to take the video down, as soon as possible. 

But before she opened the app again she noticed she had a voicemail, she stopped breathing when she saw who it was. 

Tella, from the movie she had done during her brief stint as a child actress before her parents decided they wanted her out of that environment.  Before her mother had died, and everything had gone so wrong.  Tella was famous now, covers of magazines and movie posters in Times Square kind of famous. 

Evangeline’s fingers shook horribly when she reached to press play.  Then there her voice was, as contagiously vivacious as the last time she had heard it five years ago. 

Hey you!  It’s been forever but I saw your video and was like, no way that’s my little Evangeline singing her heart out — your song is incredible and we need to talk about your future music career if you want that, for real Scar and I have like crazy connections now, but also, god how do I saw this, there was a crinkling sound against the speaker and a more muffled version of Tella’s voice said, Scar stop micromanaging I’m plenty sensitive, Jesus.  Her voice became clearer again and she bluntly came out with it — are you okay?  Cause you don’t look particularly okay or…sane in that video.  Scarlett don’t look at me with those eyes, I’m just being honest, it’s not like that’s a bad thing necessarily.  Anyway, please call me back when you can, even if it’s just to check in.

Alright, still love you lots, I hope we can catch up soon, mwah mwah.

Then the message was over, and Evangeline was left staring at her phone like it was a foreign device wondered what — and she thought the situation called for such language — the absolute fuck was happening.