See No Evil

Nothing about the Ke

“Yes, I love Fi

“That bad, huh?” I retort, taking stock of how defeated she looks.

“The worst,” she half-chuckles, half-laments, rubbing the engagement ring on her finger.

“Let me guess. He’s not the same guy who gave you that rock, is he?”

“Like Fi

“It didn’t sound that way a minute ago.”

“What can I say?” She unapologetically shrugs with a wide grin to her lips. “I believe that someone will only show their true nature when they are put under pressure. I just had to make sure Fi

“He’s not,” I bite back.

“Oh, I know,” she beams. “It’s written all over your face how you love him just as much as he loves you.” She snickers amused.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. You were about two seconds away from punching my teeth in.”

“I still might,” I grunt.

She continues to giggle as she opens the dressing-room door to grab the dresses from one of the clerk’s hands, who apparently had nothing better to do than stand post outside until Ke

Rich people. I don’t think I’ll ever understand them.

Well, maybe I’m starting to understand a little bit of Ke

Maybe that’s just how they are bred on the Northside—sweet as apple pie one minute, and put the fear of God in you the next. Who fucking knows? There’s only one of them I care about anyway. I won’t waste my time on the others.

“Try this dark-red one. I think it will bring out your best features,” Ke

“My boobs?” I joke, relaxing a little.

“No, your eyes. It’s one of the things your boy gushed over the most.”

I laugh at the idea of Fi

“Wow. I think we found a wi

“Yeah? Do you think Fi

“I think after he’s lifted his chin off the floor, he will love it.”

“So my eyes pop in this, is that what you’re saying?”

“Honey, everything pops! You have killer curves, and that dress is shouting them all out. If I didn’t have my boy troubles, you might get me batting for the other team,” she goads, and I can’t help but laugh at that.

Who would have guessed that the dean’s daughter was such a flirt?

I let my eyes focus on the mirror’s reflection one more time and tell her, “This isn’t me, you know?”

“Looks like it is to me.”

“But it’s not. It’s just a fancy dress on a girl from the wrong side of the tracks.”

“Does that even matter? Who cares where you were born. It’s the destination ahead of you that counts.”

“Is it? Sometimes I feel like I’ll never outrun where I came from,” I mutter, looking at the lie reflecting in front of me.

Ke

“We’re all trying to run from our past, Stone. Fi

I give her a tight nod, perfectly understanding what she is trying to tell me. It doesn’t matter if you’re born dirt poor or filthy rich. That shouldn’t define us. Only the choices we make in life should.

And it dawns on me that I’ve already made my choice.

I choose Fi