Oxuanna lowered the can. She sat on the cold ground and cried—not for what Gia had, but for what she herself had become. Someone who would rather destroy beauty than learn to create it.
She raised the can.
Oxuanna’s throat tightened. “I didn’t think you’d care.” gia love and oxuanna envy
It started small. A whispered comment here, a cold shoulder there. When Gia won the art scholarship, Oxuanna said it was because the judges pitied her “sad, soft drawings.” When Gia comforted a crying freshman, Oxuanna rolled her eyes and called it performance. But no one else saw a performance. They saw Gia, real and good, and that only made Oxuanna’s bitterness grow. Oxuanna lowered the can