Arrière-goût

Immediately after she accepted the award and resumed her seat Janie felt Lily’s stink-eye burrow like a gamma ray into the side of her neck. It had always been a competition between the two: Who got the best summer job, the most lucrative teaching assistantship, the best-looking boyfriend. And now the pair of them sat side by side like two blisters on the same tongue.
     “How could you get the award?” Lily hissed, “My average was 87.”
     Janie had three marks over her, but the chance to sewer her rival’s graduation day beckoned. “Odd,” she said, “mine was 82.”