Bianca shot Karen a look so intense it could've knocked her over. She braced her hands against the reception desk, leaning in slightly as if she was about to climb over it and slap the poor woman.
For some reason, I felt a pang of... I don't even know. Stupid, childish frustration. The kind that only someone as petty as my sister would feel. But then again, we weren't that different. We were the same blood: dumb, quick to get upset, always jealous. My frustration was naive, hollow, and it filled me up. Why had she hidden in the closet all this time, snuck out through windows just not to be with Kalinowski, kissed some random guy, and now — at the worst possible moment — she had the guts to say Heather, my idiot Heather, was her girlfriend? Of course, no one would believe her, but I knew the truth.
Karen's face shifted. She glanced at Bianca's defiant expression, clearly annoyed.
"Are you really not gonna let me see my fiancée? Or is this hospital a bastion of homophobia and intolerance?" Bianca said loudly enough for a random doctor to overhear. The poor guy had no idea he was now caught in the crossfire of the school queen. My radar went off immediately. The young doctor, who had approached the desk at just the right moment, was radiating all the signs that screamed, "I'm gay!"
He looked at Bianca, then at Karen, confused, clearly wondering what he'd just walked into.
Bianca was a devil, a cunning genius. I feared her, admired her, hated her, and wanted to be near her all at once. Karen gave up, glancing at the young doctor, who was also waiting for an explanation.
"Third floor, Room 303," the woman grumbled after a moment's hesitation.
"And that's it? No forms, no paperwork?" Bianca asked sweetly, the freshly minted "fiancée" playing her role to perfection.
"No, if anyone asks, I didn't see you." Karen gave a half-hearted shrug, pretending to busy herself with some documents as the doctor watched in silence.
Bianca winked and motioned for us to follow. Karen acted like she hadn't noticed us as we slipped past her, handing some papers over to Dr. Gay.
When we piled into the elevator, walking with an awkward, exaggerated Olympic stride, everyone started patting Bianca on the back.
"That was epic!" Lamar whistled, clearly impressed. "How did you come up with that on the spot?"
"You're amazing," Alisha wrapped Bianca in a tight hug, pressing her cheek against hers.
Jealous. Angry. Hurt.
"I'm seriously impressed," Ishani nodded approvingly as she hit the button for the third floor. "See, Mel? Everything's fine! If they're letting us up, it means Heather's alive."
"Or maybe she was just messing with us," Jess chimed in, ever the contrarian.
"What do you mean?" Bianca fixed my sister with a hawk-like glare.
"Maybe she lied to you, gal. You know how easy it is to calm down a typical white blonde girl by sending her off somewhere. She could be calling security right now. Who do you think they're gonna arrest first? Me, Lamar, Alisha, and Ishani. That's who. Lydia won't get touched — her mom works here, she's just visiting Mommy. And you? You're the town's golden girl."
She didn't even mention me, whether out of sisterly solidarity or because I simply didn't count in her eyes. Sisters don't count. No one notices them anyway.
The group, who were now potentially getting arrested, exchanged nervous glances. Lydia turned as red as a tomato, starting from the tips of her cute, oversized ears.
"You wouldn't dare accuse me of being racist," Bianca hissed.
"Guys, can we just find Heather and make sure she's okay? Jess, Bianca's not a racist. I've known her since we were kids..." Alisha began.
"Don't bother, Alisha. Trying to explain things to someone like her is pointless."
I shut my eyes, pressing myself into the corner. When the elevator doors slid open, I shot out into the hallway first, shoving someone with my shoulder and stepping on someone else's feet as I passed.
I wonder, would I feel better if I became a nun and retreated to a monastery? Maybe even took a vow of silence. Then I wouldn't have to explain anything or talk to anyone ever again.
•••
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