The Opposition

Chapter 1: Sadie

 The world is too bright.

The sun.

The stars.

The fluorescent airport lights.

The smiles on Angie and Ana's faces.

I can't complain about that last one, though.

They're barreling toward me before I even pick up my suitcase off the conveyer belt, and I grip onto the grey handle before they hug me. I drown in their opposing perfumes. Ana always goes for fruity scents. "Read any romance book," she says. "The girl is always described as smelling like green apples or strawberries or something like that." I couldn't argue with her there, and she's become the reason for my fruit punch shampoo that I certainly don't use sparingly. I'm not looking for some paper-perfect boy to sweep me off my feet, but what's the harm in some nice smelling shampoo? Angie, on the other hand, sticks to these musky floral scents that are so hard to describe that I just call them "the teen version of grandma perfume." She hates when I say that.

The fragrances are making my head hurt, so I pull back to get a good look at them. They're just as I left them two weeks ago. Ana has her blonde hair in a sleek ponytail, except for two small sections that seem to have escaped. She's perfectly made up, as always, with her rosy blush and gold eyeliner. I can only assume that she attempted to reorganize her closet during the winter break because she's wearing an oversized hoodie and baggy blue jeans, instead of her usual blouses and skirts.

Angie stands beside her, flashing her perfectly straight teeth. Her braces came off last month. Her curly brown hair is sitting in a low bun and her freckles are more prominent from the absence of make up on her face. She's dressed in the same all-baggy fit as Ana, and I can only assume that they met up at Ana's house before coming to pick me up.

I avoid looking at my stained tennis shoes and sweater dress that's bunched up at the sleeves. You can't blame me for not looking super put together when I had to wake up at 5 am today. 5 am. Early mornings got away from me over the break, and my old habit of afternoon slumbers took over. I guess some habits never go away if you give them the chance to resurface.

"We missed you," Ana squeals, pulling me in for another quick hug.

"So damn much," Angie adds, already pivoting toward the exit. I envy how put together she is. I spent ten minutes looking around the airport and not once did I spot the bright red "Exit C" sign we head towards now.

"I missed you guys, too." And I mean it. Going back home is something I dread every year. I can usually get away with staying with Ana or Angie during Thanksgiving or Easter break, but winter break is the one time where someone actually drives me to airport and forces me to spend two weeks crammed in our small one bedroom apartment. Compared to our dorms, our apartment is huge, but it's not the actual apartment that's the problem. It's the people in it.

"We just got back from campus," Ana says, and I will myself to shake off the jet lag and pay attention. "They cleaned our dorm while we were gone, and it's so spotless. But, like, who gave them permission to go through all of our stuff. It's not like I took everything back. I think I left a pack of pads under the bed and all of my books."

"They do dorm checks all of the time. It's not that big of a deal," Angie points out, pushing open the exit so we're standing in a stairwell that leads to underground parking. "Two levels down," she says.

"I didn't say it was a big deal. I'm just saying that I don't want Ms. Pratt to know what types of books I'm ordering to the dorm every night," Ana says, trudging down the stairs and pushing open another door.

Angie rolls her eyes.

The parking lot is cold. Too cold. Like frost and dead smiles. Everything is grey: the doors, the pavement, the walls, and even some cars. Just cars. Not a single person is down here, and I find it strange. It's grey and dead. 

I seem to have stopped walking because Angie grabs my hand and begins dragging me forward. "Come on. It's only a ten minute ride to Prep, and breakfast service closes in forty minutes."

We stop in front of a red convertible and I smile. It's a genuine full-of-memories smile. I've always loved Ana's car because it's the kind of car I've always wanted. The top is down and I can already feel the wind whipping through my hair so it gets stuck to my face to remind me that hair doesn't always blown backwards like in the movies. Nevertheless, I love it.

We hop into the car; Ana driving, Angie in the passenger seat, and me in the middle backseat, leaning over the shoulder of Angie's seat. When we finally escape the parking lot, I breathe a sigh of relief. The sun is shining, just like it did through the airport windows, and the roads of busy with people. We drive through the city; people pushing shopping carts and dragging crying toddlers. The shops all have their lights on and signs flipped to "open." I resit the urge to tell Ana to pull into a cafe because I can feel the lack of sleep creeping back up on me, but I know she'd argue and say that there's no point in buying coffee when we could get it for free. She's not wrong, but Prep doesn't have foamy milk and vanilla whipped cream and rich caramel. We have black coffee with milk and white sugar.

The city starts to fade out as we turn onto a winding road. There's such a clear line between the city and Prep, like it's closed off from the rest of society. It's sheltered and safe. It's home.

"You know who we saw when we came?" Ana turns around to face me, raising an eyebrow, and I shout at her to look at the road.

I was about to ask her who she was talking about, but then I see it. In all of its glory, Fairridge Prep stands before us. The grey bricked buildings sparkle under the glowing sun, the lawn under the groups of congregating students has been freshly mowed, and the pristinely maintained sidewalks are crowded with groups of friends reuniting. It's impossible to suppress the joy displayed on my face when Ana puts the car in park, right in front of Cadwell House.

"The best decision they ever made was adding this parking space," Angie says, pushing open the passenger side door.

"You're damn right it was. It was a pain in the ass to park down by the library," Ana complains, pulling my suitcase out of the trunk for me.

I spin around, taking in the lovely architecture of this place I call home. "It's good to be back," I sigh, smiling as I look around.

"Must be even better now," Ana nudges her hip into mine and narrows her eyes. I follow her gaze to see what she's glaring at. My smile fades.