Loyalty and Secrets

The next morning, Saturday. I dragged my hungover self to the school field for track practice. It wasn’t optional. Everyone had to pick an extracurricular, and I chose track because the adrenaline kept me sane and fit.

Let’s not pretend my baggy jeans and oversized sweatshirts were just fashion statements. My girls knew the truth, I had a few extra pounds that sunlight wasn’t allowed to see. Before you call me a foodie, it’s called comfort eating. And I’m always stressed.

Freda had crashed at my dorm after Slater’s party, and now both of us looked like walking migraines as we stumbled to the field.

  “You two sure look like you had such a splendid night,” Amaya smirked, as we slumped onto the grass beside them.

  “My boyfriend said he saw you at the footballers’ party,” Lana added, eyeing me. “I cannot believe Slater invited you, Zephyria. Of all people on campus, he…”

  “Excuse me, madam?” Freda cut in, voice sharp. “What exactly do you mean by of all people?”

  “Oh please,” Amaya rolled her eyes. “Don’t start acting like you’ve got exclusive friendship rights over Zephy. She's our friend just as she's yours.”

  “I didn’t say anything wrong,” Lana scoffed. “All I said was, Slater’s parties aren’t exactly Zephy’s vibe. And now she’s suddenly getting free access to the golden boys? It doesn't make sense.”

I groaned, cradling my head in my hands. “Girls, please. It was just a party. Can we not fight about who got in and who didn’t?”

  “Wait! Are we going to a party?” Oliver’s voice came out of nowhere. We all jumped.

  “Oh my God, Oliver!” I gasped as my water bottle slipped from my hand. “You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” he laughed. “Saw you girls from across the field on my way to the gym. Thought I’d say hi.” He squinted at me. “You don’t look great.”

  “Cramps,” I lied without hesitation.

  “I can bring you hot soup after practice,” he offered, full of concern.

  “No, no. I just want to crash after this. I’ll be fine,” I replied quickly, guilt washing over me.

  “We’re heading back to the dorms after anyway,” Freda chimed in, trying to cover up my lie. “We need the rest.”

  “Speaking of stress,” Amaya said, her tone dripping with mischief, “isn’t that your girlfriend, Oliver?”

She pointed toward someone walking in our direction.

Of course it was Lindsay. Surprisingly, she wasn’t with her usual set of minions. Her sport joggers barely covered her bum, and she’d turned her jersey into a crop top. I honestly wonder how she gets away with indecency. Pretty privilege is definitely a thing.

  “Hi, baby,” she called in her annoyingly exaggerated soprano voice.

  “Lindsay? W-what are you doing here?” Oliver asked, suddenly acting like he’d been caught doing something bad.

  “I was over there with my girls,” she pointed in the other direction, “when I saw you here with these ones.”

Freda and I exchanged knowing glances. I could’ve blamed the fact that I was beginning to hallucinate on my hangover. But this is real. The same Lindsay we saw clinging to Slater’s arm last night. Lindsay, who I served a drink to, was here calling her supposed boyfriend ‘baby,’ acting like all was well, when everyone in our friend group was aware of her neglect.

  “Hi, Lindsay. You look well,” Freda said, shooting her a look.

  “Hi,” she replied, before turning back to Oliver. “Baby, my assignment is due Monday, and you've been too busy to help me out with it.” She was doing that thing again. Giving an Oscar-worthy performance in manipulation, and Oliver was going to fall for it.

  “Oh… I forgot. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. But you can bring it over later today and I’ll go over it with you.”

  “Oh no, baby. I’ve got a nail appointment with my girls scheduled for later. I brought it with me so you can have it after practice and I’ll get it from you on Monday before classes,” she pouted. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

  “Sure. I can,” Oliver said, casting me a look I clearly avoided. “I’ll go over to the gym now. See you girls later,” he said and jogged off.

  “What a guy. Come on, Lana, let’s go change. See you girls later,” Amaya said as she dragged Lana along with her.

They’ve also never been fans of Lindsay. And unlike me, who had to endure her excesses, the rest of the girls don’t have to.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Freda snapped, arms folded like she was holding herself back from hitting someone.

I knew that tone. She'd been waiting to confront Lindsay since we came back from the party. But me, I’m not wired like that. I’m the friend people talk over, talk around, or flat-out ignore.

  “What’s the meaning of what?” Lindsay asked, lazily twirling her hair like we were boring her.

  “Last night?” Freda said, stepping forward. “You were all over Slater like he was some long-lost soulmate. And now you’re back here acting like Oliver is the love of your life. Like you haven’t been ghosting the guy for weeks.”

  “And?” Lindsay said in that same dry, unbothered voice.

  “You don’t expect us to just sit and watch you treat Oliver like garbage,” I said before I could stop myself. My voice didn’t shake. For once.

  “If you care that much, why don’t you date him?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, Zephyria?”

My stomach twisted. “Don’t you dare flip this, Lindsay. We saw you. You’re cheating on Oliver, and honestly, who knows for how long.”

  “You need to stop playing games,” Freda added, voice sharp. “Come clean or we will.”

Lindsay’s lips curled into a smirk. “No.”

  “Then we’re telling him.”

She stepped closer. “No, you’re not. Because if I were you, I’d be very careful not to step on toes. Don’t forget…” she tilted her head at me, “...you’re here on grace. A fragile kind of grace. One bad move and poof! No more scholarship, no education. What would you do then, Zephy? Go back home and be miserable for the rest of your life.”

  “Are you threatening her?” Freda asked, voice rising.

Lindsay smiled. The kind of smile that made you want to slap someone or run. “It depends. Zephy can decide if that was a threat… or just good old advice.”

Then she turned, hips swaying, and walked off toward her little clique like we didn’t even exist.

Freda hissed. “That witch.”

But I couldn’t hear her anymore. All I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears. Because Lindsay might be wrong about a lot of things… but she wasn’t wrong about the fact I had always wanted Oliver.

And now I had to choose between loyalty and a secret I shouldn’t be keeping.