Chapter 4 Mirrors Doesn't Lie But Doesn't Tell The Whole Truth Either

I had a very complicated relationship with mirrors.

Not in the cinematic way though,no single tear tracking down a carefully lit cheek, no trembling lip, no orchestral swell. Mine was quieter than that. More ordinary. Which somehow made it worse.

I could be getting ready for class, completely fine, and then catch myself at the wrong angle in the bathroom mirror and something in my chest would just stop.

My thighs, my stomach. The way my arms looked in certain sleeves.

I would stand there a beat too long, and without meaning to, I would hear Tyler's voice. A lot of weight to catch. Or the girls in the gym last semester who thought they were whispering. Or the photo someone took of me at the freshman assembly and posted with a caption I've never repeated out loud.

Then I would pull on my hoodie and go to class.

My mom always told me I was beautiful. Priya said it too, frequently and unprompted, in that matter-of-fact way she had that made it sound obvious. I believed them the way you believe people who love you—partially, gratefully, with a small quiet reservation tucked somewhere they couldn't see.

Not because I doubted them. Because I didn't want to seem ungrateful for something they were giving so freely.

I was working on it, just that I hadn't finished yet.

Monday morning started with me standing in front of my closet for fifteen minutes trying to figure out what to wear.

Which was stupid. I was going to campus. I had class. I wasn't seeing Chase—I didn't work again until Wednesday. There was no reason to care.

I pulled on jeans and a sweater and told myself I looked fine.

Then I changed the sweater, then I changed it back again. By

the time I left my apartment, I was running late and annoyed at myself for reasons I don't know.

Priya was waiting at the campus entrance with two coffees, which was one of the primary reasons she was my best friend.

"Why is your face like this?" she asked, handing me one.

"What's my face like?"

"Like something happened and you've already decided not to tell me about it."

I accepted the coffee. "Nothing happened."

"Zara Owens."

"Priya Anand."

She narrowed her eyes—small and sharp, the kind of look that made you feel genuinely studied. Like she was reading something written in the space between your sentences. "Is it the babysitting job? Is the kid terrible?"

"Micah's the best part of my week."

"Then it's the brother."

I walked faster. She kept up without effort.

"It's nothing," I said. "He's just... not who I thought he was. That's all."

Priya was quiet for exactly three seconds—the precise amount of time it took her to process new information and form a fully developed opinion. "Chase Hendricks," she said slowly, "is not who you thought he was. Chase Hendricks, who is objectively assembled in a laboratory somewhere, is a real and complex person, and this has affected you in a way you're refusing to examine."

"That's not what I said."

"I'm paraphrasing." She sipped her coffee. Then, carefully, "He has a girlfriend, you know."

The sidewalk didn't tilt. The sky didn't darken. Nothing dramatic like that happened. But something in my chest went very still.

"I know," I said.

Except I didn't know. Not really, until she said it out loud and made it real.

"I'm not saying it to be mean," Priya said. "I'm saying it so we're working with the same information."

"Nothing's happening, Priya. I'm not working with anything. I just—I misjudged him. That's all. I'm correcting it."

She looked at me over the rim of her cup. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"You'll tell me the rest when you're ready." She shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere."

That was the other reason she was my best friend.

We walked in silence for a bit. I drank my coffee and pretended my hands weren't shaking.

"What's her name?" I asked finally.

Priya hesitated. "Amber."

"Of course it is."

"She's nice, actually. Student council. Volunteers at the animal shelter and very pretty."

"Priya."

"You asked."

I hadn't asked you for all that. But she was right. I did want to know.

We reached the humanities building and Priya stopped. "I have Lit in five. You good?"

"Yeah."

"Liar." She squeezed my arm. "Text me later."

She disappeared through the doors and I stood there on the steps, holding my coffee, thinking about Chase Hendricks having a girlfriend named Madison who volunteered at animal shelters and was very pretty.

I told myself it didn't matter and of course I barely know him.

I told myself a lot of things that felt true until I tried to believe them and then I saw them together that afternoon.

I was cutting through the quad after my psychology lecture, headphones in, not paying attention to anything except getting back to my apartment and pretending this day hadn't happened.

Then I looked up. Chase was sitting on one of the benches near the fountain with a girl I didn't recognize. She had long dark hair and was wearing a Westbridge hoodie. She was laughing at something he'd said, her hand on his arm.

That has to be Amber so I stopped walking. Well, I should've kept going and walked right past like I hadn't seen them. But I couldn't move.

Chase looked relaxed in a way I'd never seen him. Easy. Like he didn't have to think about what he was saying or how he was sitting. The girl—Amber—leaned into him and he put his arm around her shoulders without hesitation.

Something in my stomach twisted. I finally made myself move. I took a step, then another, put my head down and walked past them like I had somewhere important to be.

I was almost clear when I heard, "Zara?"

I stopped and turned, Chase was looking at me and Amber  was looking at me too, curious and friendly in a way that people are when they don't know you're a threat.

Not that I was a threat. I wasn't anything actually.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey." He stood up, which made Amber  let go of his arm. "What are you doing here?"

"Right. Yeah. I just—" He looked flustered. Which was new. "I didn't know you had class on Mondays."

"Psychology. Tuesdays and Thursdays too."

"Cool."

We stood there for a second. Amber was still sitting on the bench, watching us with interest.

"This is Amber," Chase said finally. "My girlfriend. Amber, this is Zara. She babysits Micah."

"Oh!" Amber stood up, smiling. "Micah talks about you all the time. He says you're really good at drawing spaceships."

"I'm really bad at drawing spaceships," I said. "But he doesn't seem to mind."

She laughed and it was a nice laugh so genuine. But then I hated it.

"It's nice to meet you," she said.

"You too."

Another beat of silence. Chase was looking at me like he wanted to say something but didn't know what. Amber glanced between us, still smiling but starting to look a little confused.

"I should go," I said. "I have... homework."

"Okay." Chase's hands were in his pockets. "I'll see you Wednesday?"

"Yeah. Wednesday."

I walked away before either of them could say anything else.

I made it halfway across the quad before I had to stop and breathe.

My hands were shaking again and my heart raced. I pulled out my phone and text Priya 

Me: you were right

Priya: about what

Me: everything

Priya: im coming over

Priya: Ice cream?

Me: yes please.

I put my phone away and kept walking. Behind me, I could hear Amber laughing again but I didn't look back.

Priya showed up forty minutes later with Ben & Jerry's and the kind of look that said she already knew everything without me having to explain.

We sat on my couch. She handed me a spoon.

"So," she said.

"So."

"You saw them."

"Yeah."

"And?"

I dug my spoon into the ice cream. "And she's nice and pretty and he looked really happy."

"Zara—"

"I know." I took a bite. It tasted like nothing. "I know it's stupid. I barely know him and I have no reason to feel like this. But I do, and I hated it, but I don't know how to make it stop."

Priya was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "You don't have to make it stop. You just have to let yourself feel it."

"I don't want to feel it."

"I know." She took the carton from me and took her own bite. "But you're going anyway. So you might as well do it with ice cream and your best friend."

I leaned my head on her shoulder. "This sucks."

"Yeah," she said. "It really does."

We sat there eating ice cream while the afternoon light faded through my apartment windows.

And I let myself feel all of it.