Be

I stared down the cliff.

The Big Six. This title, that used to be such a source of pride in me, a name whispered in
secret among jealous peers, a name that would wrap itself around my tongue like
honey, now infects my mouth with its sickeningly sweet aftertaste.
My feet walked me towards the edge on their own accord.
An everlasting purgatory of mistakes, decisions that can never be undone, and dead
friends to show for it. Why did we have to shoot so high? Didn’t we already have
enough? Must it always end in tragedy?
I fell.

“Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.”

-Euripedes

January 1st, 2002

“NEW YEAR NEW ME BITCHES!” Iris was going to blow my ears off if she kept
screaming the way she was. The clock had just struck midnight, and with it came
couples kissing under the fireworks, the laughter of drunk students, and at the center
of it all, us. The Big Six. People could act like they didn’t care about us, they could act
like their eyes didn’t follow our every move, but we knew better. Everyone knew
better.
“You say that every year babes.” Malcolm replied. I could smell the cheap vodka on his
breath. Malcolm didn’t subscribe to the hype that came with the transition of
Decembers to Januarys. It was always “Malcolm’s Year”. Always. I mean, what could
cause him to stumble? For he had a greater mind than even his dad. Or at least, that’s
what he would try to convince anyone who would listen. But that self-righteousness
and overconfidence got him into The Big Six. And with that title, came power. You are
above it all. You. Are. Elite.
“Well at least I’m trying.” Iris rolled her dark eyes. I couldn’t help but turn my
attention towards her everytime she spoke. Her words wormed their way into my ear
like a siren song, regardless of what she said. Iris was known for her stunning good
looks and infinite beguile throughout the campus, and she soon found her way to the
top of the food chain. Where there was a good time, there she was, seemingly finding
herself in the spotlight, dark skin glowing under the attention. And while none of us
wanted to admit it, she was the glue that held us together. She was the star of The Big
Six.
“And how about you, Lilith?” Her voice found its way to me again and I was brought
back from the clouds my mind was in. Then there’s me. I’m not trying to play victim,
everyone knows I’m anything but that now, but I came to Winter University on
scholarship. No big names connected back to me, unlike Malcolm, son of teck wizard
Jay Elmers, or even Iris, who was the niece of supermodel Elizabeth Njoku. I got into
The Big Six with pure work. I’ve seen some call it manipulation. Deceit. Deception. But
I describe it as intellect. Agree to disagree I suppose. But I had the it factor. I was
power. I was above it all. I was elite.

January 18, 2002

“...And I heard the teacher had to speak with him after class to tell him to stop
interrupting with his, and I quote, ‘know it all attitude’.” Iris, Willow, and I sat in my
dorm giggling and painting each other’s nails. Outside it was pouring, the clouds
enveloping the sky in their murky gray and the raindrops loudly making themselves
known on the window.
“He’s such a dork!” Willow exclaimed, bursting out in a fit of laughter. Iris quickly
followed suit, nearly falling off the bed in her amusement. And as much as I tried to
bite my lip to stop myself from grinning, Willow’s laugh was contagious and soon we
were rolling on the floor, overcome with mirth.
“I don’t understand Ezra,” I reply when I’m finally able to get words out, wiping the
tears from the corners of my eyes. “It's like he’s always trying to prove something.”
They both nodded in assent, the laughter having died down.
“Archer told me that Ezra wants to join.” Willow whispers softly. Her voice is so airy
that sometimes I need to strain my ears to hear it.
“Join what?” Iris questions, looking up from her collection of polish.
“What else, Iris? The Big Six.”
The room goes quiet. It’s so funny how easily we can go from almost dying of joy to
being able to hear a pin drop. It’s not the first time we’ve heard innuendos of attempts
to join our little society. But with Ezra it was different. He was supposed to be part of
the group, even being close friends with Malcolm. Before-
“Well, screw him,” Iris finally replies, cutting the silence like a knife. “He’s not worth
our time.” We exchanged glances, each one of us wanting the other to change the topic.
My ears started to look for anything else to listen to apart from the deafening hush of
the room. They focused on the rain, the drumming of them making a sort of lullabye on
the glass. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
“I think Archer still has a soft spot for him.” I say thoughtfully. My mind is in the room
but somehow, not there at all. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
“I’d hardly say it’s a soft spot,” Willow scoffs. “Archer isn’t soft about…well..anything.
I’d say it’s more like..Archer sees potential.”
“I guess he gets that from his mom,” Iris pitches in mildly. “Mommy’s money and all
that.”
I chuckle gently. It was no secret that Archer’s grades weren’t the only thing that got
him into Winter’s. No one said it out loud, and absolutely no one asked him, but
everyone suspected. But you couldn’t deny that Archer had brains. He knew exactly
what to do exactly when to do it. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
I think of Iris’s beauty, Willow’s ebullience, Malcolm’s coolheadedness, and Archer’s
intelligence. Where did I fit? Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

January 30, 2002

I sat in the university library, cramming in last minute studying. Winter’s collection of
books was so vast and immense it was almost overwhelming. A maze of knowledge and
a jungle of infinite studying nooks. And in one of these nooks, there I was, curled up,
headphones on, murmuring notes to myself.
“Yo Lilly!” My head jerked up at the sound of my nickname. Part of me tried to locate
the source of the sound but the other wanted to crawl inside the depths of my chair. I
already knew who it was. No one else called me Lilly. And out of the morass of shelves
was Malcolm, in all his cocky glory, followed closely by Archer. I tried to smile, but I
could feel it twisting and bending itself in ways that just felt wrong. Fake. Malcolm
didn’t seem to notice though, loudly plopping himself next to me and my mass of
textbooks and binders and Archer standing in front of us both, hands behind his back.
“Hey, Malcolm! Hi, Archer!” I put on the peppiest voice I can, trying to hide my
annoyance, but severely overcompensating. I see Archer quirk an eyebrow from the
corner of my eye. Time to tone it down, Lilith.
“What are you studying?” Archer asks, scanning the fortress I’ve built around me.
“Final prep for my philosophy exam.” I responded.
“Ah, sounds easy.” He looked bored, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Then
leave, I thought. I definitely wasn’t forcing him to stick around. I tightly chortled, my
fists clenched under the table. Why couldn’t he just leave? Why couldn’t all of them
just leave?
“Well everything is easy for you, Archer!” Malcolm guffawed. Was it only me or did that
almost sound as forced as my smile? I glanced at Malcolm, trying to pick out anything
that seemed just slightly off. Slightly wrong. But his mask of huberice was perfectly
intact. Archer smiled, seemingly satisfied with the compliment.
“Well, I am the brains of the operation.” Archer lightly commented, continuing to scan
our nook. It took everything in me to not roll my eyes. Can someone please tell me why
they’re here?
“Anyways…” Malcolm started, changing the topic, “has anyone else noticed how distant
Iris has been as of lately.”
Archer and I glanced at one another. Not this. Again.
“We have the conversation like every two weeks,” Archer rebuttals, “can we move on?
Please?” I nod my head in agreement. With Malcolm, the conversation always shifts to
Iris. I could feel my nails painfully pressing into my palms. Anylongs and they were
going to pierce flesh.
“No guys, I'm serious this time. God, we’re always so on and off.” Malcolm pouts.
Another shared glance between Archer and I. I could feel my jaw tighten and I started
to see red. Malcolm’s presence was starting to throw me off. His blonde hair
aggravated me and his pathetic puppy dog eyes made me want to skewer my eyeballs
out. I don’t even remember when this whining started but I doubted Iris ever
humoured his fantasies of them ever having enough chemistry to start dating, let alone
be on and off. She would never stoop that low. And that’s saying a lot for this friend
group.
“Maybe you guys should talk it out.” I suggest tightly, my eyes seeking out my page full
of notes again. Where did I even stop?
“Maybe…” Malcolm sighs, sinking further into the chair.
They stayed in my nook for only another thirty minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. At a
point, both of their voices started to meld into one. An obnoxious background noise. I
didn’t notice my fists were still clenched until after they had left. I looked down at my
palms. They bloomed red with blood.

February 4, 2002

“Ezra you can’t do that, my grades are on the line. If you wanted this we could have
discussed this before.”

“I’m done with you. If you can’t give me this, then I’m out.” We hear the harsh
whispers when walking through the large and impeccably glossed hallways of campus
in the late evening. Willow and I paused, taking in the frantic and suppressed voices. I
look at her and I can see the panic in her eyes. The eye contact we make says more than
could be spoken out loud. From the tense voices to the occasional bursts of frustration,
it was clear this conversation is important, and we both know deep down this is the
right time to be seen. But secretly, I knew that Willow was less concerned about being
caught and simply craving the information she might be able to squeeze out of this
uncomfortable situation. Being the town gossip and the heart of all scandal, I could
practically hear her journalist heart fluttering with excitement. We slow down, not
wanting our footsteps to echo on these marble tiles. Frantically finding a place to hide,
she pulled me against the side of a vending machine, craning her hea