BRANLEY - THEN.

It starts at a party, as it usually does. I never thought it would happen at a party.

Then again, I never thought it would happen to me.

I would say that you could trace it back to Alyssa Davies' house, but it goes further than that. The choice to go to Alyssa's party was just one domino in the line – but the push, the decision that led to every other decision, was a pair of earrings.

Something so simple.

Something so catastrophic.

I had worn them that day; a pair of silver, dangly earrings that licked at my blonde hair, that caught the light just the right way, that caught Alyssa Davies' eyes just the wrong way. They were a gift from my mother, after a business trip to Cambodia and following a breathy, teary confession that started with 'I cheated' and ended with 'on your father'.

In an unusual wave of rebellion inspired by my mother, I had worn the earrings to school, accompanied by an outfit that teased the dress code just the slightest. I sat down at my seat in APUSH, a smirk on my lips, push up bra clasped firmly, tank top pressed down firmly, mini skirt resting low on my hips. I had been getting various looks already – some from disapproving teachers, some from approving girls and most from the wandering eyes of the male populace.

For the first time in a long time, I was seen.

Alyssa Davies was one of the people who saw me.

She walked by me, as she did every day in APUSH, except for the first time, she stopped. She hesitated by that narrow corridor between tables, her existence just a hairsbreadth from mine. Her eyes, endless pits of navy, glanced up from her phone and right at me. They glazed my earrings. An approving smirk formed on her pouty lips.

"Cute earrings," she remarked.

I leaned back, feigning an air of casualty and cool. "Thanks."

"You're Branley Karol, right?"

"Yeah."

She paused, examining me from my worn-out Chucks to the rest of my carefully crafted outfit. I watched her assign me a mental ranking, and waited for the verdict.

"Cute," Alyssa decided, before her navy eyes settled on mine – daunting, daring. "I'm having a party at my house later tonight." She did a one-over my outfit once more, as if just to make sure. "You should come. BTW, it's invite only, so don't bring any of your...cronies." A pause. Eyes looking straight into mine. And eventually, a smile. She didn't wait for my reply. She just walked off. Alyssa Davies does not wait for people to accept her invites. It's another one of those Unspoken High School things – when Alyssa invites you, it's her gift to you. Whether or not you accept is little of her concern. Then again, no one really turns down Alyssa Davies.

I went to lunch that day with my head held high, that smirk now a permanent mark on my face. I slid into my seat, for once more powerful than Elizabeth Blanchard.

"You look good today," Lizzie complimented, somehow being able to twist it into an insult, as her eyes scanned my body critically.

I shrugged, as if I had just thrown the outfit on, and it wasn't perfectly manicured to caress my every curve.

Lizzie's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "What's with that face, Bran?"

"Hm?" I asked, an eyebrow twitching up condescendingly. "What face?"

Elizabeth folded her arms defensively over her chest. "Don't play stupid, goddamn it. What aren't you sharing?"

"Nothing, I swear!" I protested, a pout forming on my glossed lips. "I was just thinking what I should wear to Alyssa's later." Before Elizabeth could hound me, I turned to the rest of the girls, arching my body just the slightest. "I was thinking either my red velvet dress from Brandy or that black mini-skirt from Pacsun with a cute bodysuit. Thoughts?"

The eyes of the other girls brightened visibly.

Kelsey Donahue was the first to speak. "Brandy dress. For sure."

"No! That bodysuit makes you look totally bomb, Bran," Margaret protested. "It really accentuates your curves."

As the girls fought about it, each of them imagining what it is they would wear if they were me, I leaned back, blonde hair tickling the nape of my neck. My dark eyes darted to settle on Elizabeth Blanchard, a smirk playing on my lips.

I wonder if there was ever a time we were really best friends.