by L. F. Piper
I nod, telling him I want more, I need more. Take me to the fucking stars, I scream inside my head. He angles the digits inside me and after only two more powerful strokes, I am literally soaring through space, seeing the stars just like he promised me. I start to shout my release, but he captures my mouth, silencing me. I suppose we don't need to draw any more attention to ourselves than we possibly have already.
Caleb removes his hands from me a few minutes later and shifts me over, off his lap and into the passenger seat, where I get myself fully clothed again. I light another cigarette and turn to face him. “Can you open my window? I can't even stand up right now, so you don't have to worry about me running away from you.” He flashes me those fucking dimples and sucks off my juices running down his hand, making me full-body shudder. He winds my window down and I embrace the feel of the cool breeze hitting my flushed cheeks.
We both smoke in silence. He's probably thinking about how he can fuck with me next and I'm pretty much the same. What else can this guy do to me that he hasn't previously?
I feel drained.
Sad.
Lonely.
And really disappointed with myself.
Why did I just let that happen? Everything Kaydee said the other week comes crashing back to me. She’s a bitch, but right. I should've stayed away from him, this is my fault and I could have told him to go fuck himself. But I didn't do any of those things.
I let him show me the damn stars instead.
I could just sit here and cry, but there is no way I'll let myself fall apart in front of him. Fucking jerk.
“Get out. It's five minutes till lunch, don't want Anya to catch us together.” And that last comment is enough to fully break me. I jump out of the car quickly and walk away, nearly turning it into a run, before he can see the cracks he just caused in my armour.
They patiently wait until I'm locked inside a stall, then my tears fall rapidly.
I hate him.
***
The rest of the day is a blur. I don't speak to anyone, look at anyone, or respond to anyone talking to me or about me. I manage to avoid Caleb and Anya, but the rest of the cheerleading squad are a bit more difficult. There’s so God damn many of them!
I make it all the way to the end of the day, and that's where we are now. I'm at my locker shoving all my books into my bag, when Anya steps up next to me. “Good day today, Emilia?” She asks. Shit! She knows! I do what I've done all afternoon and stay silent. I'm about to walk away when she grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks me to a halt.
“What the hell, Anya? Let go!” I twist my body and manage to break free from her hold, for sure losing a chunk of hair in the process. “What is your damn problem? You don't like me and that's fine because I don't like you either, but I'm over it. Why can't you be?” Her cheeks start to redden, and I realise I've made a colossal mistake. She’s fuming.
“I can't just get over it, Emilia, because you slept with my fucking boyfriend!” She screams directly in my face, her spittle gracing my cheek with its presence. Eww!
Students are beginning to gather in the hallway to watch, some of them have their phones out, ready to hit record.
For crying out loud, give me a break!
“I told you I was sorry, and I didn't realise he was with you when he came onto me.” Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I did say sorry, but in this case, I don't think that would've fixed her unwarranted problem with me anyway. I also don't think she believes that Caleb came onto me. She probably thinks I just threw myself at him like every other female around here does.
“He doesn't want you and he never will. You're a skanky fucking whore with a fat ass. He much prefers all of this,” she indicates at her own body and I snort under my breath. I'm skinny, but Anya is practically non-existent. She's a trash bag full of bones.
I’m a bitter bitch. Fucking sue me.
Anya’s body is more sharp bones poking out all over the place, than soft curves creating a feminine silhouette. She has massively teased and over worked blonde hair. It looks like it’s highlighted weekly, but now the extensions she wears don’t quite match in shade for the constant bleached Barbie look that she goes for. She has patchy fake eyelashes, separated with clumps of old mascara, framing her dull blue eyes. They look haunting if you look into them the right way. She has pretty features, but they are clouded by the terrible makeup job she does. There is absolutely nothing special about her. She’s just a mean girl in a crowd full of them.
Doubly bitter bitch.
The fact that she said I had a fat ass also doesn't faze me. It's not like I haven't heard it before. Although, I think I might hit a gym over the summer, you know, just to see if I can tone it up a little.
It’s definitely not because of what she said.
Okay, well maybe because of what she said.
Fine! Because of what she said.
I'm a teenage girl! If another girl calls you fat, you're going to try and lose a few pounds. It’s a routine reaction.
“Oh my God! Did you hear that? Little Miss Piggy snorted! Oink Oink!” A couple girls from the newly named Bitch Squad laugh at their leader, but everyone else mostly stay silent. It's clear I'm no pig, the only meat I carry is on my chest and ass, as we’ve established.
“Does it make you feel better about your pathetic self trying to put me down, Anya? You’re disappointing females everywhere. I mean, your boyfriend slept with another girl and yet you aren't busting his balls, only coming after me. When was the last time you saw him? My guess is he’s probably off sleeping with someone from the squad. Where is Brianna, anyway?” I make a massive point of looking around the gathered crowd and I really can’t spot her. “Are you going to take her down as well or finally grow the fuck up and dump the asshole for being a sleaze?” I know I've practically waved a red flag in front of a bull, but I can't help myself. I honestly think there might be something seriously wrong with her; I was there when Caleb told her straight up in the locker room they weren’t together, but she’s still calling him her boyfriend. I know a lot has happened since then, but I can’t imagine why he would want to date her. She’s a horrible person, psychotic and fucking delusional. I also have no idea if Caleb is with Brianna or not. It wouldn’t surprise me at this point. Although, I’m positive she would be stood right beside Anya if she was here, so I figure she isn't.
I'm too proud to back down from Anya and not just because it's her. If anyone was putting me on the spot like this, I wouldn't let them get away with it either. I played the silent card all afternoon and that didn't work in my favour, so now it's time I take out my aces.
“Argh! You stupid fucking cunt!” Anya lunges at me and we begin having a scuffle on the floor in the hallway. We couldn’t make it any more obvious that neither one of us are natural fighters, but we're both giving it our best shot. Well, I am anyway.
Anya has false, pointy claws and they are tearing me apart. I have real nails that aren't doing all that much damage.
Ow, shit! This chick is nuts.
She’s just short of putting her fist through my skull, so I act quickly and wrap thick strands of her fake hair around my fist. I pull hard enough that her whole body starts to follow their lead. Once she's steady on her feet again, gaping at her weave hanging around her waist, I swing my fist. I don't have time to aim but I hope for the best and it still manages to clip the side of her cheek, hard. I watch in shock, shaking out the pain that’s crushing my hand, as she stumbles backwards.
Fuck me, I’m dead.
We both stand there, breathing heavy and she’s glaring evilly at me. Her hair looks distinctly like the tails of rats that she carved up herself and I'm guessing her missing finger nail is stuck in my skin somewhere. From the feel of it, quite possibly the side of my neck.
Before we even think about taking another run and jump at each other, a teacher walks down the hallway to split up the crowd of students, chanting ‘fight!’ still circled around us.
“Schoo
l is over for the day, kids. Unless you want me to start passing detention slips around, I suggest you all get moving. Now. Miss Gold, Miss Walker, is there a problem here?” I look towards Anya as she narrows her evil eyes into slits and shakes her head ever so slightly. I’ve heard plenty of rumours about her getting into trouble for fighting at school, so I guess she’s probably on her last warning.
I could totally get her kicked out, but the crazy bitch would probably burn my fucking house down.
I would legit die.
Gulp.
“No, Sir. Everything is fine here. We were just leaving.” I grab my shoulder bag from the floor and a few scattered books that escaped it, then make my way down the practically empty hallway. I know I'll be able to make it most of the way home before Anya even vacates the building. There's no way she'll walk outside looking like a desperate crack whore. She'll be in the bathroom for at least twenty minutes, clipping her extensions back in to her airhead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Emilia
Now, after reliving that, I really do want to puke
Shouting hello, I rush straight upstairs when I arrive home before anyone can see the state I’m possibly in. I don't know what I look like and I don't want to answer any questions.
I dump my school bag and toss all my clothes to the floor, darting straight into my bathroom. While the water is heating up, I look at my reflection in the mirror. I have a small scratch on my cheek, but I can easily cover that with makeup and one on my neck. That one is a fuck lot worse than my face. Makeup will be fine for both, though. Luckily, I’m a whizz with a blush brush. Other than that, I'm alright. I can't say the same for Anya, mind. Even while we were stood in the hallway earlier, I could see her face starting to puff out and swell. She's certainly going to have a lump there tomorrow and I already know she is useless at applying makeup so it's going to be on show to the whole school. I cringe. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not.
I climb under the water, letting it pelt me from above and sag. I’m exhausted. Only tomorrow and Friday to get through and then next week is the last week until Summer break. I can't fucking wait. Just not having to see Anya will make my days more enjoyable, that's for sure.
I get out of the shower, dry off and cover myself head to toe with lotion. When I'm back in my bedroom, I check my phone that’s flashing with a notification.
Holden: Hey, Emilia. I didn't see you around school today, but are we still on for tonight?
Bloody hell. I forgot about our date this evening. After being with Caleb earlier, I'm not entirely sure that going on this date would be the wisest decision I’ve ever made. I'd be acting like such a slut.
Emilia: I'm not really feeling it tonight, Holden. Sorry to let you down at the last minute.
I put my phone down and get dressed before the sound of buzzing fills my quiet bedroom.
Holden: Come on, Em. I've been really looking forward to tonight. I'm not above begging. Don't make me beg!
Despite how I'm feeling, his text does make me laugh and that’s enough to seal the deal for me.
Emilia: Fine, I won't make you beg. I'll meet you at 7 :)
I put on some yoga pants and a vest top, make quick work of hiding the evidence of the fight I got into earlier, and go downstairs.
“Hi, sweetie. How was school? Dinner should be ready by six.” I take a deep breath. No way am I telling her about my day!
“Mum, I actually have a date tonight. I'm meeting a guy from school at seven at that Mexican place in town. Is that okay?” I'm not embarrassed to tell my mum about boys, or anything really. I'm just starting to worry that me keep skipping dinner at home is going to upset her. How wrong I was.
“Oh, honey! That's great. Come on, sit down and tell me everything. What is he like?” I sit at the breakfast bar and tell her what I can about Holden. There isn't much to say because I've never had much to do with him before, but I can tell her that he is rather good looking, and he plays on the school football team. She seems impressed and wants to know what I'm wearing. She's also impressed by my outfit choice. I knew she would be.
“Do you want me or your dad to drive you there and back?” She asks as I have one foot out the back door.
“No, thank you. I think I'll walk. It's really nice outside and at least if I walk home, hopefully I'll burn off everything I eat. I shouldn't be too late, but I'll text you if I change my mind about a lift.” She nods and goes back to chopping vegetables.
“You know, you don't need to worry about burning calories, Emilia. There's hardly anything of you anyway, sweetheart.” I don't stop to reply. It’s a mother’s job to make her daughter feel better, it’s part of the contract. Anyway, what kind of a mother would tell her kid she looked like the back end of a bus?
Mine totally would, but not today thankfully.
***
It’s half past six and I'm ready for my date. I'm not normally nervous around boys, but I'm feeling on edge right now.
I'm worried that Holden won't like me.
I'm scared what Caleb might do if he finds out.
I'm freaking out.
Oh God, if Holden has a girlfriend already, I’m fleeing to Russia. No joke.
I walk through the streets and stop outside the restaurant at six-fifty. It's a warm evening and there are lots of people coming and going. Stores are just closing up and bars and restaurants are beginning to open for the night-time rush. I love to people watch and before I know it, my watch says it's seven-twenty. I've been stood here for thirty minutes already and I can't see Holden anywhere.
I'm just about to send him a text message, when I hear that God awful laugh.
Anya.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't Little Miss Piggy. What are you doing out here? Waiting for a date?” The way she says that single innocent little word, it makes my insides coil. I feel sick to my stomach and my palms are sweating. I know something is wrong.
As I'm about to tell her… Tell her what? Nice bruise you've got there, Anya. Does it hurt? I frantically think of something to say back to her snide comment, when Holden rounds the corner. I practically collapse with relief that he didn't stand me up, he was just running late.
“Hey, Holden. Are you hungry? Our table is ready.” What? Why would he be eating with Anya?
“I sure am. Are the guys already inside?” Holden stops next to Anya and looks me up and down. “Hey. It’s Emilia, right? What are you doing here? Did you invite her?” Holden looks towards Anya, pointing at me, and she cackles at him.
“Your acting skills need some serious work. Come on.” He laughs, and they walk into the restaurant, howling at my expense of course. I'm so fucking embarrassed. He set me up and for what? So Anya could laugh at me some more?
Before I start crying outside the stupid restaurant, I rush down the street, dodging people everywhere and bumping into a handful, but not stopping to apologise. Fuck manners right now. I can't believe I fell for Holden's fake charm. They just wanted to make me the fool, yet again.
I don't get very far from the restaurant. I mean, I am still in the same fucking country as it. I lean against a wall in a nearby alley and slide down it to my butt. My tears are falling heavily, and my body is shaking with silent sobs. I can feel my phone vibrating frantically, but I can't bear to even look at it.
I feel like the world’s biggest joke right now.
Why on earth was I so stupid?
I should've known from the start that Holden wasn't really interested in me. He's paid me no attention since I arrived here and then suddenly, he wants to take me out on a date?
Just paint a scarlet L on my forehead and stick me in the corner.
I eventually stop crying and when I can finally see through the blur, I look at my phone.
Kaydee: I'm sorry, Emilia.
Kaydee: I should've told you what they were planning.
Kaydee: You didn't deserve that. I hope you are alright.
What?
Emilia: You fucking kn
ew what they were doing, and you didn't tell me? What the hell happened to you? Just leave me alone.
I'm so angry, I send the text without thinking. It might hurt Kaydee's feelings, but she fucking deserves to feel a slither of my pain. She knew all along and didn't tell me. I'm way passed upset and embarrassed. Now, I just want to break Kaydee's face. I don’t understand what changed. We were friends, but then as soon as Ellis caught her in his slick web for three, it’s like I wasn’t good enough for her anymore. I light up a cigarette, and then another. I smoke four sticks, staring into space and passing the time, until I feel like walking back home. I try and fix my makeup as best as I can using my compact mirror, but there’s not a lot of light.
I’m not sure how I look when I walk through my front door. Mum and dad are in the living room, watching a film. “How was it, Lia?” I poke my head around the door to face them. Thankfully, they don't take their eyes away from the movie playing on the screen.
“Awful. Holden was the worst date ever and the food has given me cramps. I'm not sure if it was cooked properly.” I am preplanning my way out of going to school tomorrow and possibly Friday. I can't face anyone.
My dad looks at me, all serious. “Are you alright, kid?”
I nod. “Sure. I'm going to head to bed now. I'm taking the sick bucket with me, just in case. Goodnight.” My parents say night to me and I go to my room, with said bucket.
In the Gold household, ever since I can remember, we’ve had this disgusting thing that’s kept under the kitchen sink, known as a ‘sick bucket.’ Whenever me or Dylan get sick, we take it to bed with us. You’re supposed to put some water in the bottom, so your barf doesn’t stick, and then carry it around with you in case you need to puke and won’t make it to the bathroom in time.
I’m sorry.
It’s disgusting.
It’s something my mum told us she came up with when my dad went out and got crazy drunk, the night she told him she was pregnant with me. He wasn’t ready for a baby, and certainly wasn’t ready to pounce off the sofa and make it to their bathroom to hurl his guts up. My mum said she was livid with him; she had to scrub his alcohol sick from the carpet for hours, he couldn’t stop being throwing up long enough to do it himself. Luckily, her morning sickness hadn’t quite kicked in at that point.