“Watch where you’re going, bitch,” I mumbled under my breath. I dragged myself out of bed at 8 am on a Sunday morning, drove out to Drug Mart where I’m currently trying to find the morning after pill.
Cory had to leave last night after we were done because he couldn’t break curfew again. He’s been at his parent’s house, and they don’t want him to be out past 2:30 am.
After countless tries around the store, I sucked up my pride and went to ask a worker for help. I decided on a woman with purple hair, who looked around 40.
As I walked up to her, she smiled at me. “How can I help you today?” she asked.
“Um, yeah, so I need to find the morning after pills.” I told her.
She looked a little shocked. “Aren’t you a little young?” she said.
“Nice try, don’t pretend to be surprised. I’m almost 18,” I replied.
She wordlessly led me to an aisle that I checked a dozen times, and pointed at a shelf full of different brands. “Here you go,” she said, then walked off.
I looked around, and they were right next to the condoms. Damn, nice way of telling sluts to be safe.
I picked up one of the small boxes that claimed to not affect pregnancy in the future. I marched over to the self checkout to avoid any more judgment.
I went back to my house and laid back in bed. I took one of the pills with water as I dug my phone out of my pockets. I opened Instagram and a flood of homecoming posts popped up in my feed. I liked some posts, stopping to comment things like “stunning”, “gorgeous”, “hot”, “so pretty” on my friend’s pictures.
Este’s pictures were so cute. Yellow is definitely her color. Her and Cam always look so happy, no matter what they’re doing. And, I can’t lie, Betty looked really good. Her new guy, Jack I think, is pretty. Like not hot, he’s just a pretty boy. The type that your parents would love; nice, respectful, funny.
I went back to bed after that, and woke up at 6:00 pm. I ate a salad, did my skincare, and went back to bed.
I woke up Monday morning at my normal time. I did my makeup, straightened my hair, and went to pick out clothes, which will be the death of me. I picked a pair of white flared jeans and an oversized Louis Tomlinson concert shirt. I went to the Faith in the Future World Tour in Boston with my sister, and it was definitely worth the wait.
I went downstairs, with my dad passed out drunk on the couch again. I heard him and my mom arguing really late last night. She left; I heard her car leave the driveway. He’s been emotionally abusing us for as long as I can remember.
I wish they would get divorced already. It sounds bad, but I mean it in the best way possible. But they got married through the Catholic church, so they made the promise to God that they would stay together. So in my mom’s eyes, it’s a sin to get divorced.
I want to go to live with my sister in Boston, where she lives with her fiance, but my parents say no. They act like it’s not their fault that all of their kids live so far away. My sister, Vivian, lives in Boston. My other sister, Victoria, lives in Paris with her French husband. And then my brother, Tanner, lives in San Diego with his wife and kids. And I’m getting out of here when I graduate.
But nobody knows this, of course. And I intend to keep it that way. I’m Inez Hyland Blackly, for fuck’s sake. A complete badass. A slut, yes, maybe that’s true. In some eyes, a goddess.
So I walked out the door and hopped in my car. I drove to Starbucks, got my drink, and then sat in the school parking lot for 20 minutes, waiting for the doors to open. Sometimes I cry before school, get all those emotions out for the day, but today, I was above that. I stalked Instagram stories, and what did I come across that shocked me so much, you may ask? James Young posted a new reel.
I went to the search bar and quickly typed in his name, and his account quickly popped up. I clicked on the new reel. It was a picture of him and a boy when they were like 10 or 12 years old. Then it morphed into a picture of them from how James looked now. It was captioned “take me back”. Wonder what that means.
I answered my snaps, with a picture of me flipping off the camera and sticking my tongue out with some of my Louis shirt in the picture.
I saw other cars file into the spots around me, so I took my phone off of BlueTooth, turned my car off, and walked into school.
Everybody looked a little rough, likely from homecoming. Recovering from hangovers, too much drugs, too much sex, you know, all that fun stuff.
I saw that gay choir girl and Piper holding hands, so I decided to go bother them again.
“Hey babes,” I said, greeting them. I blew a kiss.
Gay Choir Girl scrunched her nose in disgust. “Hi, Inez,” Piper replied.
“How was homecoming?” I asked.
Piper shrugged. “It was good. I mean, it was another homecoming,” she said.
“So are you two like,” I paused. “Girlfriends now?”
“No, we’re not,” Gay Choir Girl said.
“I wasn’t asking you,” I snapped.
“Hey, leave Dorothea alone. She didn’t do anything to you,” Piper said.
I scoffed. “What kind of a name is Dorothea? I don’t even know you,” I said.
“Well what kind of a name is Inez? Is that just like the common term for a slut nowadays?” she said.
“Excuse me, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” I snapped.
Piper pulled Gay Choir Girl away. “Okay, bye Inez,” she said.
“Bitch!” I yelled.
I turned on my heels and plowed right into Augustine Park. I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, and she thinks I’m a slut,” I said to her. Her face dropped and turned pale.
I walked away with Hannah and Avani joining me on either side.
“Oh my god, what’s her problem?” Avani said.
Hannah giggled. “Oh look, she’s crying.”
“Who, Augustine?” I asked.
They nodded.
I scoffed. “Serves her right. I mean, who does she think she is, sneaking around with James all summer?”
“I mean, you did once,” Hannah said.
I gasped. “Shut up!” I exclaimed.
The bell went off, signaling five minutes until first period started.
Hannah and Avani went off to their room, while I sped up to walk with James, as he was only a few steps ahead of me.
He looked over his shoulder at me and I was walking by his side. “Hey, Inez,” he said.
“Hey, who’s that guy on your Insta story? I don’t recognize him,” I replied.
“You won’t tell anyone?” he asked.
“No of course not, James, we’re friends. I mean, it’s not like he’s your secret boyfriend or anything,” I joked.
He stopped walking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He gave me a look.
Then it hit me.
“No you're not. You’re lying,” I said, in disbelief.
“I’m not,” he said.
I rushed off toward my first period class.
“Inez, come back! You can’t tell anybody or I’ll kill you!” he shouted after me.
“I have somewhere to be!” I yelled back.
I quickly sat in my seat right as the bell rang.
My life just got a whole lot better. Now, how should I ruin his life this time?
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