"Yes, Mitchell! A hundred times yes!"
Jessica's voice rang out through the arena speakers, and I watched, paralyzed, as Mitchell slid that diamond ring onto her finger. He stood up, and then Catherine, my best friend, my sister by choice started screaming the loudest.
"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!"
I stood there like a statue. I watched as Mitchell's lips collided with my twin sister's lips. Jessica... This was my spot. This was supposed to be me. I've spent three years dating this man. Three years of support, three years of being his biggest fan, and the only thing I didn't share with her, the only thing I wanted for myself, she took it.
When did this happen? When did my own friend and my own sister go behind my back to start their own circle? I was the only one standing here who didn't belong. My heart started thumping as if it was going to explode. I couldn't even form a sentence. I just stammered, watching their tongues twist on each other in front of thousands of people.
I looked at every one of my friends' faces. They were glowing. They were so happy. They were enjoying every second of my soul leaving my body. I turned around, trying to move, but I staggered, mixing my steps. My eyes blurred so badly I could barely see the exit. My tears were falling fast now, hot and heavy. I ran. I ran as fast as I could until I hit the locker room area.
I collapsed against a wall and covered my eyes. *Jessica, why did you do this to me? What exactly are you?* I thought she was the only one who cared. When our mother told me to donate blood for her, she said I shouldn't bother, but I insisted because I loved her. When we were both sick and mom needed someone to go get meds, I ran through the pouring rain for her. On our birthday, when mom made a nut-flavored cake because it was Jessica's favorite, she was the one who reminded mom I was allergic.
She's always been there. So why now? I made sure she had everything. And the one thing she knew I cherished, she took.
Then I heard it. Laughter.
It was coming toward the locker room. My blood rushing, I could hear the pulse in my head. I panicked and jumped into an open locker, pulling the door shut until there was just a tiny crack. I covered my mouth with both hands, trying to stifle my breathing. I didn't want anyone to know I was there. I couldn't let them see me like this.
"Congratulations, Jessica and Mitchell, on your engagement!"
That was Max's voice.
"Thanks, darling, y'all are really the best," Jessica said. Her voice sounded so sweet, it made me want to throw up. "Congratulations, baby, on second place in the championship."
"All thanks to you," Mitchell replied. I heard the distinct sound of a wet kiss.
"Stop it! Don't oppress us, you dummies!" Catherine laughed. "It's well deserved. Jessica has been your biggest fan."
I felt the vibrations of someone sitting on a stool right outside the locker.
"Yeah, she is," Mitchell said, his voice dropping into that serious tone he used to use with me. "That's why my heart belongs to her and her alone."
My heart stunted so badly I wanted to hit my chest just to make it beat again, but I couldn't move. I was hiding from my own shame.
"Guys, did you see the look on Jasmine's face?"
That was Harris. He sounded like he was talking about a funny movie.
"It was so fun to watch," he said, and then the whole room erupted into laughter.
"It's how she thought she was the one being proposed to! Hahaha!" Catherine chimed in.
"But you, Catty... you made her believe it was her! You are horrible!" Max said, laughing along.
"Guys, stop it. That's my twin sister you're talking about," Jessica finally said. I felt a tiny spark of hope, but it was extinguished a second later.
"But Jessica, why did you bet with Mitchell?" Catherine asked.
"Well," Jessica sighed, "she was so desperate for attention and she has been crushing on my man for a long time. I thought, why not play a little game?"
I heard their footsteps moving away, heading toward the exit.
"And yeah, he got her in one month," Jessica's voice was fading as they walked further down the hall. "You won't believe that bitch opened her legs for my man."
The silence that followed was deafening. I opened the locker door slightly, my breath hitching. The tears were hotter than before.
"This was all a bet?" I whispered to the empty room. "To the people I called friends? A bet... and my twin sister orchestrated it?"
It was more than a heartbreak. It was a total demolition of who I thought I was. I couldn't control my silent sobs anymore. They started coming out louder, racking my whole body. I bit my lips so hard I tasted blood.
"I'm a big fool. For real, I hate myself," I sobbed into my knees. "Do I really deserve all that? What did I ever do wrong?"
Suddenly, a hand moved into my line of sight. It was holding a floral pattern handkerchief.
I looked at the hand. It was large, with visible veins and light hair. I looked up. Standing there was a man, looking older than me, wearing a golden medal around his neck and holding a massive golden cup.
I took the handkerchief with trembling fingers and cleaned my face. He reached out and gestured for me to take his hand. I held it, and he pulled me up. I couldn't move my legs properly; they felt so stiff, but he held me steady.
"You are not a mistake," his voice was thick and calm. "You didn't do anything wrong. And please, do not hate yourself. You are so gorgeous."
I started having hiccups from the crying. He gently patted my back. I looked at him properly black hair, masculine frame, piercing blue eyes, and a perfectly defined nose.
"Coach Jeremiah?" I whispered.
The youngest coach in the city. The man whose team always comes first. The one Mitchell calls a "God" and has been begging to sign with for the Olympics. He's known for avoiding girls entirely.
"Oh, guess I am really popular," he said, a small smirk playing on his rosy lips.
"My boyfriend is a huge fan of yours," I said, wiping my face with the handkerchief, then corrected myself. "Sorry... my ex-boyfriend. It's an honor to have you here. But what are you doing in the school's locker room holding a cup and a medal?"
He looked at me, his gaze intense.
"That's supposed to be my cue."