A Girl Called Malice. Aurelia Rowl B.

      Time slowed as I waited for their reactions. Acutely aware of my racing heartbeat, I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in time with the pounding rhythm. I knew the exact moment my text arrived because Caroline immediately stopped scouring the grounds for me and stared at her phone. My pulse spiked and I sucked in deep breaths through my nose, keeping my mouth shut for fear of being sick.

       This is it…my reckoning.

      Of all the scenarios I’d envisaged, the one thing I hadn’t anticipated was the slow grin which spread across Caroline’s face. She quickly handed her phone to Nina whose jaw plopped open as she lifted her gaze, almost looking right at me. A flicker of emotion—sorrow, or disappointment, maybe even concern—swept across Nina’s elfin features but then it vanished, replaced by a broad smile.

      So much for being gutted.

      Petra’s reaction didn’t show any concern at all. It was surreal, more like I was watching it on a television screen than seeing it in person. Their excited squeals grated on the last of my raw nerves but they stuck the knife in further with a round of high-fives before forming a huddle and embracing tightly. The two-faced bitches then broke apart to do some ridiculous jig that I wouldn’t be caught dead doing.

       What the fuck?

      I had my seatbelt off and my hand on the door release before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be there. No, I was supposed to be tucked up in bed at home, fast asleep and completely oblivious to the absolute betrayal of my so-called friends. ‘To hell with them,’ I yelled, blinking back the tears that blurred my view. I smacked the heel of my hand against the steering wheel again and again, the jarring pain shooting up into my shoulder as the urge to do something stupid grew stronger. Before I could act on it, I gunned the engine and slammed the car into reverse.

      I took one last look at college, then wheelspun away from my hiding place with a screech of tyres. So what if they saw me. Maybe it would wipe the smirks off their sanctimonious faces if they knew they’d just made it onto my hit-list. ‘I don’t need anyone, capiche?’ My strangled voice reverberated around the empty car, a stark reminder that it was just me, on my own.

       Like always.

      I paid no attention to where I was nor where I was headed. It didn’t matter. It’s not like I had anywhere to be. All I could do was drive. Seconds turned into minutes as I fought to block the thoughts which threatened to drown me. A police car came into view so I eased my foot off the accelerator; I didn’t need a ticket on top of everything else. Gradually, the tension eased in my hands and shoulders, eventually spreading to my chest.

      Able to take more than short, shallow breaths again, I filled my lungs with air and focused purely on the mechanics of driving until the monotony of changing up and down the gears soothed me. Despite driving aimlessly for what had felt like an eternity, a brief glance out of the window told me exactly where I was and gave me an idea. Without bothering to check behind me, let alone use my indicator, I moved into the outside lane ready to make the rapidly approaching right turn.

      My manoeuvre earned me a honk from the car I’d presumably just cut up. I shot the guy the finger and clung onto the spark it ignited—that fighting spirit—and channelled it. Less than two minutes later, I turned right again onto one of the streets branching off from the main road then followed it around a large bend, slowing down as the house I sought came into view.

      Devoid of cars, the empty driveway didn’t mean anything, especially when the window above the garage still had the curtains drawn. The odds of Hayden being up and out of the house by ten o’clock were about as good as me joining a convent so I pulled up outside the modest semi-detached house. I’d once harboured dreams of living in a house just like it but then mum had got her hooks into her fancy man and propelled us straight into a grand, detached mansion.

      Our current house was a far cry from the grotty terraced house I’d grown up in, complete with rising damp that always made my clothes smell musty. The area had been beautiful though, all rolling green hills. A part of me wished I could turn back time and go back to that dank house and get back to how it used to be with Mum. Or at least how I remembered it.

      My deep sigh sounded deafening in the silence. With the burden of hindsight, I’d long ago realised none of it was true. Mum had never really been there for me, to the extent that I couldn’t even call her Mum any more; she insisted I use her first name and I had to pretend to be her little sister.

      Keen to escape my darkening thoughts, I reached for the seatbelt clasp but found nothing there to release. In my haste to get away from college I must have forgotten to put it on. Something else that didn’t really matter. Mum—no, sorry, Michelle—would be more bothered about her car getting damaged than me if I’d crashed. Maybe I’d have more success at getting her attention as a ghost rather than her actual flesh and blood haunting and tormenting her.

       Enough.

      I leaned across the passenger seat and grabbed my handbag from the footwell where it had fallen. I’d been driving like a maniac with a death wish yet somehow nothing had spilled out. Grateful for small mercies, I dragged it up onto the seat and rooted around until my fingers brushed my travel make-up bag containing my emergency kit. Once I’d finished rubbing the foundation in with my fingertips, I applied the black liquid eyeliner, drawing a thick, heavy line across the top of my eyelid.

      After years of practice, I had the whole look down to five minutes and I only needed to use the rear-view mirror twice. While the first coat of mascara dried, I reached up to release my hair from the vile ponytail and tossed the bobble onto the floor. My brush was still on my dresser at home so I had to make do with running my fingers through it to try and resuscitate the lifeless roots.

      One final coat of mascara and a slick of lip gloss later, I was done; my transformation was complete. With my mask fixed in place and my game face on, a familiar thrill buzzed in my fingertips. I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in short bursts to get my blood pumping.

       Show time.

      The sun blazed down on me, touching my bare skin and caressing my arms and legs as I set off down the path. It took two rings of the doorbell and several loud knocks before a distorted shape grew larger from behind the glass.

      ‘All right, all right. I’m coming,’ Hayden yelled, his voice heavy with sleep. Another late night most likely, either gigging with his band, Screwed, or from pulling a shift behind the bar to top up his funds. The door inched open and his face appeared, squinting against the bright light. His stormy expression softened the moment he saw me. ‘Where’s the emergency?’

      ‘Funny you should say that,’ I said, hitting him my best come-hither smile. I pushed the door open fully to reveal his half-naked body then casually skimmed my fingers over the front of his drawstring shorts as I drew my hand back.

      Hayden’s lips parted in a gasp and he quirked his eyebrow at me. ‘Like that, is it?’

      ‘Like what?’ I said, feigning innocence. My actions betrayed my tone when I slipped my hand inside the waistband of his shorts and gripped him, hard, immediately rewarded by a sharp grunt.

      In a blur of movement, Hayden reached for my shoulders and dragged me inside. He kicked the door closed, then slammed me forcefully back against the cool surface, knocking the air from my lungs. I whimpered, but definitely not with pain. The jolt had given me the final nudge I needed to fully immerse myself in the role I’d carved out for myself.

      ‘So, this emergency of yours,’ Hayden said, his voice now heavy with something other than sleep and in complete contrast to the feather-light touch of his finger drawing circles on my bare thigh and moving upwards. ‘Is it something I can help you with?’

      ‘Maybe,’ I said, still playing coy.

      ‘Is that so?’ The stubble on his cheek scraped across my skin as he trailed his lips across my jaw and down to the crook of my neck before breaking off to stare into my eyes. ‘How about this, then?’ His hand brushed