2.

ALORA 

Head high, chin up, one steady foot in front of the other.

Remember, direct eye contact always.

a flawless smile and don't flinch.

Don't let them see her again.

It's a new you, the perfect Alora.

Don't let them near those walls you've struggled to build.

Those were the words that echoed in my head as I walked into the building of the prestigious St. James University. A private elite university.

Classes were starting, and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. I couldn’t tell, but I was certain that I had spent more than thirty minutes in my car deciding if I wanted to drive back home, bury myself under my covers and sleep, or call Ronan.

But I chose the third invisible option, which was to suck it up and find my first class, because I knew what I had to sacrifice to get here, and it was too much for me to back down last minute, like I told Ro and Tris.

I resisted the urge to check my outfit again in the transparent glass I had just passed. I had worn a custom-made denim dress with white sneakers and a custom-made tote bag. I put my locs into a bun, added some cowrie and shell hair accessories, and finished it with a makeup no-makeup look I'd spent weeks trying to perfect.

Stares followed me down the hallways, and I instinctively tugged my dress lower because of how uncomfortable the stares made me feel.

Mama had told me that things would get better when I became skinny, but I didn’t feel so good.

I stole a glance around the hallway, and there were faces that I recognised because St. James was filled with people from the same circle, and I had gone to a high school with the same circle. They were surprised as they tried to comprehend if I was still the same girl they loved to bully back at high school.

The same girl, they were always thrilled to call Alora the pig.

“Awwwn,

Little Alora thinks she’s prettier than the others now that she has a great body and a face to die for.

You can continue to dream, but you are still the old you.”

My steps faltered as the familiar harsh whispers of the voice cackled in my head.

No…. Not today.

“I won’t listen to you. I won’t let you get to me.” I muttered angrily, trying to fight the panic that was trying to surface.

“I am you, Alora. You can’t get rid of me.

You need me to function, to remind you how pitiful and miserable you will be for the rest of your useless life.”

My eyes watered with every harsh word it spewed. It didn’t matter how often I got to hear them; there wasn’t any getting used to being constantly reminded of how pathetic you were.

My hands trembled, and I clasped them at the edge of my dress to hide how nervous and close to tears I was. I kept my head high as I continued to walk while trying to mimic the cheerful expression on the other students’ faces.

My relief, however, was short-lived when I saw the last person I wanted to see.

Dilora Andrews stood in front of my lecture hall with a frown on her face as she watched me approach. My hands became clammy, and they flew to my stomach out of instinct.

I sighed in relief when it didn’t fall on my bulging stomach. It was flat now, and it was still hard to get used to my new body.

  

"You are not the same fat girl she used to bully," I whispered, trying to encourage myself even though my knees still buckled when I thought of the last time I saw her.

 I studied Dilora with raw envy.

Yes, we had almost similar names, but that was the only similarity we shared. Dilora was every bit the perfect person I had always wanted to be back in high school. Her long brunette hair was straightened to perfection, her clothes screamed high-end stores, and her makeup was flawless, like always.

I couldn’t remember Dilora being anything but pristine and classy. A stunning spawn of the devil. I hated that even though it had been seven months, Dilora was still able to make my stomach feel like it houses rocks in its pits.

 I exhaled softly before putting on my armor and approached the door, determined to ignore her and not give her any chance to bully me.

Just as I was about to open the door, she reached out to stop me, and I flinched back in horror when I felt her hands on me, but I was quick to cover up the terror on my face.

“What do you want? Why are you touching me?” I snapped out of panic, and I gave myself a mental pat on the shoulders when my voice came out cold and not the wreck I was on the inside.

Dilora’s brows jumped at the hostility in my voice, and she moved back a few steps. “It’s really you, Alora. When I saw you enter the building, I thought you were someone else. You even dress and talk differently. You’ve changed a lot,” she said, eyeing the septum nose piercing.

I tensed at the edge in her voice. “And you still haven’t told me why you stopped me,” I hissed. “Did you stop me to tell me about how much I’ve changed? I have a mirror at home, so I know I’m not the pig you used to bully."

"Alora, I promise I am not looking for trouble. I just want to apologize," Dilora said quickly, and I scoffed.

“You want me to believe that you want to apologize?" I scoffed, “The same person who made my life a living hell because I shouldn’t have been allowed in the same space as you? Try something else,” I sneered bitterly.

“I promise I am not lying,” she rushed out. “You can ask Ronan. After I tried to reach you to no avail, I called him instead, but he wouldn’t give me your new contact,” she explained with a tinge of desperation.

I arched my brow in surprise. This was news to me. Ronan never told me about her, but I wasn’t surprised. After the hell I lived in high school, everyone was overprotective and didn’t want me to have anything to do with the past.

“You are serious?” I asked with disbelief, and she nodded.

I couldn’t help it. The next thing I knew, I was laughing hard.

I lifted my hand to wave at her. “I’m sorry for laughing, but this right here is funny." I gestured to the space between us. “I just can’t believe that you would say sorry to me, so spill it. Tell me what you really want."

“I mean it,” she insisted. “I want us to be friends."

If I didn’t know better, I would have believed her, but this was Dilora, the person who hated me more than anything. I knew she just wanted me to drop my guard down so she could strike, except…

“I get it now,” I said, crossing my arms across my chest. “You probably want to be friends now because I lost weight. You can now add me to your rich circle of obnoxious friends, but I’m sorry. I don’t want to be friends with someone as terrible as you,” I spat, my voice dripping with all the hatred I felt towards her.

“I understand why you would feel this way, but I promise that I mean it." She reached out to touch me again, but I pulled back before she could. She dropped the hand and stared at me helplessly. “I know I did a lot of childish things back then, but believe me, I’ve changed for the better. I want to make it up to you."

I had a mountain of doubt as I stared at her. I didn’t trust her and never would, but if she was claiming to be a new person, I was tempted to keep her close and see how long she would pretend.

After all, they said to keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

I eased, “I guess I could give you another chance,” I told her, but flinched back when she tried to hug me.

"I promise you won't regret forgiving me," she said with a broad smile that I didn’t bother to return.

"I hope so," I muttered.

"Stupid Alora," the whispers mocked snidely.