I turned to say goodbye to Zoe, but she was already halfway down the street. For a moment I stood there transfixed, watching her walk away. I couldn’t believe she was the same girl who’d basically been dragged into the gym less than a handful of weeks ago. Feeling the smug smile tug at my lips, I zipped up my sweatshirt and headed towards the tram station.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against the cool tiles. My skin was angry and red. I’d walked in the door, relieved when I found the note on the kitchen bench that my parents had gone away for a couple of days to visit an aunt who’d fallen ill, meaning I had the place to myself. Flipping on the stereo and turning it up louder than my dad would have allowed, I grabbed a bottle of water and headed straight for the bathroom before sinking beneath the bubbles.
For a while I’d tried to read a book, but my mind couldn’t calm enough to focus, so instead I closed my eyes and pretended the world didn’t exist. It was a nice dream, at least for a while. I tried to clear my mind, I really did, but peace wouldn’t come. It pissed me off. I knew what would help, but I didn’t want to resort to that option. Anything but. Another ten minutes and I couldn’t lie there anymore. I wasn’t feeling relaxed. If anything, the agitation was increasing. Climbing from the bath, I wrapped myself in a fluffy pink towel. Yep, I had a pink towel.
“Fuck!” Grabbing the hairbrush from the sink, I dragged it through my hair, feeling the bristles dig roughly into my scalp.
I felt the sigh leave my lips. I dropped the brush and looked around the bathroom. It didn’t feel comforting. If anything, it felt stifling. I needed to move out. It was time. Not one thing in this room was me. It was all my mother. From the pink towel with matching bath mat and hand towel to the dish of rose potpourri on the window sill. Even the damn hand soap smelt like roses.
Unable to stand there a moment longer, I grabbed my phone from the edge of the bath, dropped the towel on the floor, and stomped into my bedroom before flopping onto the edge of my bed. At least this felt like me.
Mia: Did u really pass out on the patio?
As soon as I hit send I regretted it. Was I supposed to know that? Was it my fault? I grabbed my phone and switched it off. It was stupid, I know, but I couldn’t think of what else to do. It’s not like I could recall the damn message, no matter how much I wanted to. Pissed off at myself, I smothered my skin in body lotion as Beyoncé came on. I couldn’t help it. My hips seemed to take on a life of their own. It was subtle at first, but before the chorus began I was shaking my naked ass down the hallway headed for the chocolate ice cream I knew was stashed away in the freezer.
I finished the ice cream and felt like a fat cow. For three hours, I’d stuffed myself and binge watched episodes ofGossip Girl. I mean what girl in her right mind wasn’t in love with Chuck Bass? Rolling over, I saw my phone lying on the floor. Taunting me. I knew it wouldn’t matter if I turned it on now or in two hours or two days. I had to turn it on sometime. It was actually pretty irresponsible of me to have turned it off. I mean, what if Kenz needed me? Or Josie? Or my parents?
“Shit!” I swore at myself as I waited for it to power up.
It felt like forever while it came back to life, but as soon as it did, the beep came. If I was being honest, it shocked me. I don’t know why. Derek was nothing if not courteous. I couldn’t picture him not replying. As nervous as I was to read it, I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until I did.
Derek: You heard about that?
Mia: Yeah.
Derek: Zoe has a big mouth.
Mia: She was worried.
I could picture him sitting at home, frustrated. He projected this air of strength and a spine of steel, but I saw through his bravado. Even if he didn’t think I could, I knew it was bullshit. When he spoke about Zoe, he softened. He was a marshmallow on the inside.
Derek: I’m fine.
Mia:Was it my fault?
I held my breath. I hated myself in that moment. I sounded like a needy, clingy girl. Something that made me nauseous when I saw it on others. I knew it didn’t suit me. And the longer it took for Derek to reply, the worse I felt.
Half an hour passed and still nothing.
I felt sick.
I wanted to vomit.
I wanted to drink.
I wanted to eat everything in sight.
Yanking back the covers on my bed, I crawled under and tucked it under my chin before clicking off the lamp beside me. “What a fucking day,” I moaned to myself as I wriggled down and squeezed my eyes closed. The sooner this bullshit of a day was over, the better, as far as I was concerned.
Beyond my window I could hear the wind battering the trees and the rain causing mayhem as it pounded the tin shed in the backyard. It sounded wild out there. I was glad I had no plans to step outside any time soon. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I thought I heard a knock, but dismissed it just as quickly. No one in their right mind would be out in this weather. It was probably just the wind. But a couple of minutes later, the hammering came again.
“All right already!” I screeched through the dark house. With my luck, it was probably some pimple-faced pizza delivery boy with the wrong address.
Without even bothering to pull on my robe or some sweat pants, I stomped down the hallway, flipping on every light as I went.
“What?” It almost came out as a growl as I opened the door.
But the moment I did, I wished I’d been more polite.
