Chapter 44: FUCKING PERFECT LIFE!

**|BLAKELY**

The cursor blinked on my screen, waiting for me to press play again. I dragged the video back to the very first second. Again and again, making sure it was really the first second and I wasn't missing anything. My finger hovered over the mouse for a beat before I clicked play, and the video began to roll.

I didn’t really focus on myself, though, where I was in my own too little world, trying to come up with a reason why I decided to just ruin my peace and attend the party of a person who's now giving me a cold shoulder and acting like I didn't exist.

Or not really not-exist.

She either glared at me whenever we cross part or take another route, because she sure as hell knew I'm going to give her a hard slap ok the head,I don't see why I wouldn't.

My focus were glued to the figures behind me, dancing and watching.

The video reached the halfway mark, and I paused, leaning forward. The knot in my stomach tightened as I dragged the playhead back a few seconds. Maybe it was a glitch, or maybe I was just imagining things. But the person I saw standing there wasn’t who I expected.

Rewinding again, I squinted at the screen. No, it wasn’t a…mistake? I'd recognize that face even in my sleep. I rewinded again Just to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.

When I paused it again, I knew I was no longer in Egypt. The person was reaching out slightly, her hand stretching toward me just at the moment when I tried to turn.

Heather.

Fucking Heather!

I had come back home earlier than anyone expected. With the SAT Subject Tests and the final exams looming, everyone assumed I’d be stuck in those after-class cram sessions the school had so graciously “enabled and enforced.” But honestly? That wasn’t really my biggest concern at the moment.

The AP credit transfer my stepfather sorted out was airtight. I wasn’t scrambling to impress anyone or prove myself.

Okay, maybe I was. It's an ivy league university for fuck's sake.

So there was no need to panic, but I couldn’t tell them, though, especially when the the real reason I skipped those lessons was because I needed to carry out my little investigation.

Someone who clearly didn't do it for the shit and giggles.

Someone who knew of my wreaking fear of water.

Someone who's image I was staring hard at on the screen right now.

Why didn't I think of it? Why wasn't she my first suspect?

The mouse in my hand creaked under the pressure of my grip. I hadn’t realized I was squeezing it so hard until the faint crack made me glance down. The tiny lights on the mouse flickered weakly.

Heather.

My pulse thundered in my ears as the name echoed in my head.

Why didn’t her name cross my mind the moment I climbed out of that damned pool, drenched and shaking? The moment I swore I was going to find who the fuck it was? The moment I almost lost everything?

I mean she did promise to do all these things the day we—I went my separate way.

I hit rewind on the video again, dragging the bar back to the beginning. It played on loop, each second of footage driving my irritation higher. The more I watched, the more I wanted to throw the laptop across the room.

She was standing behind me, just out of my line of sight. Her hand stretched forward slightly, like she was testing how close she could get without me noticing. How close she could get to killing me.

The audacity.

The bitch who had come so close to destroying me before with her reckless ego, her drama, and her constant chaos. She had always been a thorn in my side, and if anything she had a medal for it.

I paused the video again, freezing her face on the screen. My jaw clenched as I leaned back, every nerve in my body on fire.

And she had been so close to getting away with it.

The thought sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through me. My grip on the mouse tightened until the plastic whined under the pressure again, and then, before I could stop myself, I flung it across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud, breaking apart as it fell to the floor.

Heather!

It was always Heather.

I exhaled shakily, forcing myself to sit back in my chair. My hands gripped the edge of the desk as I tried to calm the storm in my chest.

Oh, Heather.

My fingers clenched tightly into fists, nails digging into my palms. The urge to slam my hands against the laptop was almost unbearable, but I held myself back. I couldn’t afford to damage it.

I exhaled sharply, pushing away from the desk. My chair scraped against the floor as I stood and began pacing the room.

Heather.

Heather fucking you-owe-me-your-life-it-hurts.

The more I thought about it, the harder my chest tightened.

She shoved me into that pool and leave me to panic, choking on my own fear. And knowing Heather, she was watching, and probably thought it was poetic.

My pacing slowed until I came to a stop near the bed. For a moment, I just stood there. Then I sat on the edge of it, my hands gripping the edge of the mattress so tightly my knuckles ached.

"Oh, Heather, You fucking bitch."

She fucking ruined her life, and suddenly decided to find someone to blame, like she always did. Like she always did to me. Blamed me, cursed me, made me her ragdoll. Yet…

Yet! She thought that wasn't enough.

She just woke up one morning and thought, 'hey… I think I'm going to drown someone, since she doesn't want me blaming her for ruining my fucking perfect life, which she didn't do by the way.'

Her fucked up life?!

Her fucking fucked up life?!