“Maybe I’m overprotective about the people I care about, Isla,” Willa said seriously. “And yeah, maybe I suffocate them sometimes. But at least I have friends. And I think that says a lot.”
The words were a punch to Isla’s gut which caused her breathing to falter as she watched the other girl walk away.
Isla had always been the one with her finger on the trigger, the one with the power to bring someone else to their knees. But Willa had managed to send bullets flying into her skin, and Isla loathed being at the mercy of someone else’s words. It brought back memories she’d rather keep buried at the darkest pits of her mind.
Memories of when she was the one on the receiving end of cruel whispers and harsh judgments, until she had eventually turned all that pain into power. She’d built a fortress around her and didn’t think twice about pricking someone with her thorns before they got close enough to do any more damage to her already fractured heart.
When you were a blonde with blue eyes who liked wearing crop tops and shorts, nothing else mattered. If the world made up its mind that you were a slut, then that was what you were. Isla wasn’t stupid enough to try changing people’s perspective of her. Instead she learnt how to turn her heart to steel and her tongue into a weapon. And it worked.
It worked until it didn’t, and she could feel her grip on reality slowly slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. Because she’d grown so accustomed to letting herself spit poison from her mouth instead of spilling poetry that she no longer knew how to utter words that weren’t cruel. She’d ripped too many hearts to shreds in order to safeguard her own that she gradually forgot how to differentiate between the ones she wanted to break and the ones she wanted to protect.
Asa had never belonged to the list of people she permitted herself to break.
No, Isla had never meant to break her best friend. She was supposed to be the one who crushed whoever dared cause him pain, but had instead ended up being the one who pulled the trigger.
She was just so, so used to wearing a façade that she now couldn’t separate herself from who she wanted to be to who she let the world morph her into. And if that wasn’t proof of her behaviour heading towards a downward spiral, she didn’t know what was.
After all, there was only so long someone could go on wearing a mask before it either started slipping off or, worse, becoming a part of their identity.
•••
Isla had given up looking for Carmen, assuming she’d already left, and started to drive away from the school when she spotted her walking a few feet away.
She let her car pick up speed, before pulling up right next to her with screeching wheels and a loud honk.
Carmen jumped, her eyes widening from being startled, before her posture relaxed when she realised it was only Isla.
“Get in.” Isla gestured, her voice drifting through the open window as she leaned across the seats to open the door.
“Um, no,” Carmen quickly said, shaking her head. “I like walking.”
Isla blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” She offered a small smile.
“You’re upset with me because of Asa,” Isla accused her, knowing that it wasn’t true but using her manipulative skills to guilt-trip Carmen into accepting the lift. She felt bad doing it, but as much as she liked Carmen, she cared about Asa more. And if taking advantage of Carmen’s compassionate nature was the only way to learn how Asa was doing, then she wasn’t going to apologise for it. There was another way, a part of her knew. She could always just go to Asa and check on him herself. But Isla Martin was a proud person, and it was that very pride that would be her downfall one day.
“Of course not!” Carmen exclaimed, looking shocked at the blunt accusation. “I’m not going to pick sides in a fight that I wasn’t even a part of.”
“Why won’t you get in then?” Isla pulled her brows together, trying to appear as if she was troubled and hurt by Carmen’s actions.
“I just… Never mind.” She sighed heavily and walked towards the car, before getting in and shutting the door after her.
Isla fought back the smug smile that threatened to take over her face. She wasn’t going to let herself feel triumphant until she’d gotten what she needed out of Carmen. The sense of accomplishment vaporised into thin air the instant she properly registered her stream of thoughts.
Until she’d gotten what she needed out of Carmen. Was that how low Isla had fallen now? Was she only going to use the poor girl and then discard her when she no longer served a purpose?
This must have been what Willa was talking about. Maybe Isla really was a train wreck. Maybe she did indeed end up hurting those around her time and time again.
“Get out,” Isla whispered, her hand tightening around the steering wheel.
“What?” Carmen looked taken aback, staring at Isla as if she’d grown a second head.
“You need to leave,” she said, swallowing. “I don’t want to—” But she didn’t continue. She couldn’t continue.
I don’t want to hurt you too, Isla had wanted to say, but long forgotten was the ability to voice out her emotions.
“Wait, Isla, I don’t understand—”
“I asked you to get out of my vehicle,” Isla snapped. “I really don’t see what’s so hard to understand about that.”
She waited for the blow. She waited for Carmen to snap back at her. She waited for the look of disgust.
Nothing of the sort came. Nothing except for Carmen chewing on her bottom lip, as she examined Isla with worry
