Hemorrhage.

John had clutched me to his chest, pressing my face against the thin fabric of his cotton v-neck. He wrapped his arms around me and he rocked us back and forth, refusing to let go. When he did loosen his death-grip, it was to usher me inside of the house, where I presumed Mia was waiting.

I was reluctant, shaking my head as John tugged on my head. “I really don’t want to see her,” I tried to tell him, but he wasn’t listening to me.

“It’s not what you think,” he said, looking back at me as he stepped back up on his porch. He opened the doors slowly, and I mentally braced myself for what was to come. I didn’t know how exactly Mia would take me again.

There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but my brain wasn’t putting together the messages to my nerves and muscles so I could actually voice the thoughts. I remained silent, and slowly eased to a stop behind John, suddenly nervous. He held onto my hand firmly, tightening his fingers around mine. Mia was still standing in the middle of the living room, her back turned to us. She had a cell phone in her hands, and her thumbs were rapidly firing at the keys.

“Molly,” John said, and the girl turned around. I looked at him. I was almost positive that a boy should know his girlfriend’s name, no? And I was also positive that when John introduced us last, her name was Mia, not Molly.

The girl in front of us had the same vibrant hair as Mia, the same skin tone, and the same nose, but her eyes were a different, greener color, and she had more freckles. Her lips were curved in a different way, and her eyebrows were slimmer. She was obviously not Mia, which had me all sorts of confused. I looked up at John, he looked back down at me with a chuckle.

“Yes, you are in a soap opera.” He joked, before tugging me forward so I was at the same step as him.

Molly looked up from her phone, shoving it into the depths of the pocket connected to her shorts. Her hair was down, waving across her shoulders, and she wore a pair of denim shorts and a v-neck almost identical to John’s. She had a simple face, with clear skin, and she wore no make-up. She was gorgeous. Her legs didn’t touch as she stood, her feet almost set together, and there was no extra layer of fat extending from the bottom of her chin.

I felt inferior standing next to her.

“Emelie, this is Molly, Mia’s twin sister. I know, it’s a little confusing because of the hair, but they are in fact two completely different people.”

I nodded, a bit unsure of what exactly to say. It felt a little surreal - John rushing those words out at me, and then telling me about some unknown (to me) twin sister. What was next? Were Kennedy and Garrett secretly gay lovers and was Jared going to go get married to the “cute” girl that supposedly worked at In ‘N Out? My head felt a little overwhelmed, and I was staggering underneath the weight of all of this new information.

“Hi,” Molly smiled at me, waving a hand in greeting.

I forced a closed-mouth smile back, forcing out a tight, “Hi.” I gripped John’s hand stronger.

I didn’t know what to expect from Molly. Was she going to verbally attack me like her sister had? Was she like that? Was she rude and conniving or was she sweet and sincere?

There was a part of me that wanted to get to know her - she was gorgeous, and I’d always wanted to know the inner workings of a gorgeous mind. I was kind of scared of her, though. She was too pretty. Pretty people didn’t take interest in people like me. What if she didn’t like me? What if she thought that I was too fat? What if she thought I was stupid and uninteresting?

I wanted to impress her so badly, say something funny, but I didn’t have the courage.

Instead, I cuddled myself closer into John, and had the comfort wash over me as he untangled our hands, only to lift his arm and rest it around my waist. I had missed him those few days. He was my best friend.

It was weird to think about.

He was trigger and he was my best friend. He was the thing that made me die but he was the thing that kept me going. It was such an oxymoron, and he didn’t even know the half of it. I couldn’t even imagine him knowing the half of it. The idea of John and I’s relationship when he actually knew how much he affected me scared me. What would he think of me? Would he think less? More? Would he be mad at the way his words and actions affected me?

I didn’t know, and there was a part of me that never wanted to find out.

“So, Molly’s here because she wants to know what happened with Mia.”

I cringed at her name.

Molly nodded. “I want to know what happened. She came over crying but she couldn’t explain what had gone out. I came over that day, but Kennedy was here, and that went…whatever. She won’t talk, and I was hoping you guys could explain it to me. I hate seeing her hurt like that.”

John looked down at me, a questioning look in his eye. “I…,” he trailed off. “I only heard the second half of the conversation, but that was enough.”

“What exactly did she say? I mean, I know she has to deserve getting broken up with - you wouldn’t do it for nothing - I just want to know why.”

John let out a sigh, before turning to face me. “What happened?” He asked. “What exactly did she say to you?”

I shrugged. “She said hurtful things to me.”

I didn’t want to repeat them. I had a hard enough time thinking them.

“Like?” John prompted. Molly was staring at me intently. I averted my gaze to the floor.

“She said stuff about my body.” My voice was so soft, but John heard me. I felt the way he stiffened.

I heard Molly take in a deep breath. “God, she’s such a bitch sometimes, you know?” She exhaled slowly, before she took a step forward.

“Emelie,” the way she said my name almost sounded comforting. “I’m sorry for the things that my sister said to you. I don’t know what they were, but knowing Mia they weren’t too great. I’m sorry.”

Her apology almost sounded sincere. I think it might have meant more if she had actually done anything to harm me, but she hadn’t. She had just been some bystander.

“Thank you.” I whispered out. It was the least I could say.

John leant down and pressed his lips to my forehead. “We’re gonna go to dinner with the guys. You need to come.”

It didn’t sound like a question.

I nodded.

John smiled.

Molly whipped her phone out from her pocket again.

I took a deep breath, regained my composure, and beamed up at John.

I convinced myself that I was happy, that I was okay, even if it wasn’t the truth.