Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 4 (✓)

I stilled. I would recognise that voice from any nightmare. In a single movement I whirled, the motion sending the world off its axis.

Three girls loomed before us, each as plain and bland as the other. The ringleader leered between me and Alia, cruelty glittering in her eyes. Jane.

"I didn't know social outcasts attended parties," Jane drawled, continuing to stare between us. It was as though she were weighing us up in her head, trying to identify the easiest target. She pouted. "I suppose it's what you get with an open invitation. The strays come limping in, bringing that awful smell with them."

My cheeks burned as her cerulean eyes narrowed upon me in particular. Did I really smell? I dug my nails into my palms, fighting the urge to sniff my underarms and check.

Jane's gaze slid to Alia. My stomach clenched.

A deadly silence stilled the air around us, and I could have sworn even the cacophony of music and jeering struggled to penetrate our little bubble of suffocation. Jane continued to rake her gaze over Alia's body, inspecting her like a bug under a microscope. Slowly, painfully, her lips parted into a smirk. "You know... that dress looks a little tight on you."

Alia flinched, as though physically struck. "What do you mean?"

Jane clicked her tongue, looking Alia over. "What I mean is, you always be thinner, look prettier. You only get to your size by eating like a cow."

Alia's cheeks flared. It was no secret my friend was a bit of a bigger girl, but it made her no less beautiful than anyone else. Besides, I didn't know much about it, but she'd hinted at a condition that made weight loss difficult. My blood burned as I recalled days where Alia would forgo eating at all, days that fill me with sick and unease. Who the hell was Jane to pass judgement?

"No," Alia stammered. My heart wrenched I watched her struggle to recover from the blow, her mouth opening and closing several times before she could get the rest out. "It's not... that's not why. It's just a bit tight on me because this was my grandmother's dress..."

Jane's brows shot up in amusement. Alia scrambled to recover. "I... she died last year, and this was left to me. I wear it in memory of her. She had a slimmer frame than mine--"

"I can see that," Jane snipped, her words followed by quiet snickers. I dug my nails deeper into my palms, biting my tongue to the point where it hurt. Don't say anything, I instructed myself. Ignore it. This isn't worth our time. Alia understands that.

Even so, the notion was hard to stand by when I spied the anguish on Alia's face. Her small lips were pulled into a frown, cheeks burning like a stovetop from the humiliation. With her shoulders curved inwards, she looked vulnerable, as though she were trying to close herself off from the world. It reminded me of how a scared cat would slink into the shadows. The image bought a certain pain to my chest, one I had felt far too many times to count.

Bitterly, I turned my attention to Jane. It made sense that she felt the right to jab at others' appearances. With her looks, it was almost a given. She was perfect in every way. Her bow-like lips looked soft even when they were curved into a cruel smile, a match to the pale-blue eyes glittering like glaciers. Her body had all the curves in all the right places, highlighted by her navy satin dress. Her looks alone were enough to make anyone envious -- even her own cronies. 

Noting my stare, she returned her attention to me. Part of me was relieved that her focus was no longer on Alia. Even so, part of me panicked under that gaze, a certain nausea winding knots in my stomach. I didn't feel right. I hadn't felt right for a while now, and the last thing I wanted was to be put on the spot.