Chapter 17 Seventeen

The inside of Arla's bedroom is almost identical to mine; plain white walls, a single bed, a bedside table, a chair and dresser. It smells of her perfume—a citrus and vanilla concoction—and a strong bleaching agent. She has a diffuser and decorative candles lined on her dresser and plastic flowers in a plastic vase on her bedside table.

"Do have a seat," she says to me with a stoic expression on her face. She places the tray of apples and a sandwich on the dresser then opens one of the drawers and rummages inside it. She comes to sit beside my feet on the floor bearing two glasses and a bottle of vodka. Then she proceeds to pour out the liquids into the two shot glasses.

"I do not drink alcohol," I say to her, repeating myself.

She gives me a blank look. "Who says I want to give you any? These two glasses are for me." She throws her head back and swallows the vodka one shot glass at a time then she fills both of them up again.

"An alcoholic ballerina, how delightful," I comment sarcastically.

"Like you are one to judge," she snaps then gulps down a third glass.

"How did you sneak the alcohol in?" I ask incredulously. Alcohol is one of the many things that are not allowed in school along with a sane mind and good cheer.

"I have my ways." She gives me a watery grin, her pupils dilated and glistening.

"Do not share if you do not want to." I try to sound as nonchalant as I can.

She nods to my shoes which are still strapped to my feet. "Are you not going to take those off?"

I had not realised that I was still with my shoes on. I begin to untie them, taking it step by step, unravelling the ribbons that crawled around my calves.

"I hate those," she says with pure disdain laced in her words. "I hate those bloody confinements."

"You wear these bloody confinements every day," I point out as I wiggle my toes and flex my feet.

"That is all the more reason to hate them."

I do not reply because I do not know what to say to her. Suddenly, I feel silly and ashamed to be here with Arla. What was I even doing here? She probably tricked me into coming here. I am about to open my mouth and tell her that I have to go when she begins laughing. "What is so funny?" I bark, highly insulted.

"I am laughing because I cannot believe that Cleo had put one the good girl act and everyone swallowed it, hook, line and sinker." She pauses, entertaining a smug look on her face. "Everyone but me, of course."

I get off her bed and gather my shoes in my hands. "That is it, I am out of here."

"Your loss," she mutters, not even looking at me.

That infuriates me the more. "Why did you call me here, Arla? Was it to make fun of me or something? Is this a prank?"

"Far from that, Gigi," she says quietly. "I have no energy for pranks."

"Then spit it out so I can get out of here!"

She clucks her tongue, shaking her head from side to side. "Do you remember the first day we met?"

I let my shoes drop to the floor and squeeze my hands into two fists to restrain myself from plummeting her face. "We have been in the same class since the beginning."

"I remember the very day you walked into our class. The teacher introduced you as a new student and we all thought that it was weird that you were allowed to join us late."

"That was because I aced my audition," I say through gritted teeth.

Arla smiles and it reaches her eyes; crinkling it at the edges. "I was drawn to you. Do you remember me talking to you that day and offering you a tour?"

"No," I lie blatantly. "All I do remember is you pooping in your tights that day."

Arla's eyes grow dark as the sky on a rainy day. "Cleo did that to me," she growls and throws another shot into her mouth.

"That is a big fat lie, Arla. How did Cleo have anything to do with you pooping in your panties."

"She noticed that I was getting friendly with you and she did not like that so she spied on me and when I was in the toilet taking a piss, she locked me in knowing that I have claustrophobia." Her voice breaks and her face twists as she relives the memory of that day. "When the cleaners found me, I had already soiled myself. I did not come to school for a whole month because I could not face the humiliation. She wanted you and she got you just as she got Adam."

"Cleo does not have me! I am my own person."

Arla shakes her head. "Oh you poor fool, how can you not see that she has her claws sunk deep inside you? You are still obsessing about her and she knows it."

I realise that it is true. My thoughts have been completely consumed by Cleo but how can I not be rattled when she was my best friend and she backstabbed me. "Do you happen to know what methods she used to get Adam?" I dare to ask.

Arla gives me a small, shrewd leer. "That is a topic for another visit, Gigi." The leer disappears and her face transforms into a plain, blank canvas. "I want to sleep now. Do me a favour by leaving and closing the door behind you," she says dismissively, waving her hand like she is shooing a pesky fly away.