She told me that at a pride rally a few years ago.Vile bitch. She is always at pride events heckling and berating people like me.
She is a tyrant, which is very amusing, because she's the same woman who has rallied against sexism and racism and even funds abortion clinics, yet she draws the line at homosexuality? Someone needs to teach her what progressiveness actually means.
“What are you doing in my home?” she questions, tight lipped.
My eyes turn to Juliette who is standing next to me. She's standing stiffly, her arms crossed. I can tell she's widely uncomfortable, so I decide to have a little fun with her.
“Well, I actually just finished fucking your daughter—”
“She's joking!” Juliette interrupts loudly, her hand shoots out to mine and her nails begin digging into my skin. “She's just tutoring me.”
I stifle a laugh and yank my hand away, ignoring her glares and how satisfying it felt when her nails sunk into my arm. I really need to sort out my masochistic tendencies.
“I know,” Samantha scoffs, “you're not a degenerate like her.”
“You sure about that? She's probably sucked her boyfriend’s cock right in this living room.”
This isn’t slut shaming; this is just pure rudeness. This is me being as annoyingly infuriating as I possibly can to make her mother feel uncomfortable. Not to mention that infuriating Juliette is always a bonus too. Her tight fists and clenched jaw tells me that she's absolutely furious. I love it.
Even if I’m being petulant, which I so very clearly am, the common courtesy rules don’t apply when it comes to the Kingston’s. They are vile humans who only deserve vile treatment back.
“We aren't living in the stone age. My daughter can do whatever she likes with her body, that's her prerogative.” Samantha shrugs off my rudeness.
Ugh.She always says the right thing. It should calm me down, but all it does is make my chest swell with fury. I'm angry because she's berated me for being bisexual since I was a child. I'm angry because on every other social issue, we seem to be fighting on the same side!
Most of all, I'm angry because she's the one that has made Juliette this way. She's the reason Juliette is so angry, vicious, and homophobic.
“So you're sex positive as long as it's only a man and a woman?” I question, scoffing.
“Precisely.”
“You're a repressed hag, you know that?” I spit out angrily.
Right at this moment, I can finally understand why Juliette despises my lack of attention. I'm getting a taste of it from Samantha, with her stoic face and emotionless words.
Usually, it wouldn’t bother me this much, but that’s because I’ve never spoken to her for longer than five minutes—nor have I ever been in her house.
“Adaline!” Juliette reprimands me, but her mother holds her hand up signalling her to not get involved and she shuts her mouth instantly.
This is what it takes to shut Juliette Kingston up? Just a signal from her mother and she's completely silent?Pussy.
“I'd rather be repressed than a deviant,” Samantha retorts.
I laugh indecorously. “Deviant? Can you hear yourself? So much for not living in the stone age.”
She had to understand her hypocrisy, how could she not understand how ridiculous her notions are? It would be one thing if she was ultra right-wing and hated every minority group, at least then I could chalk it up to ignorance.
With her, I just can't let it go because she's the reason Juliette hates me. I need to know why. I’ve tried asking her before every time I run into her. I used to ask Juliette the same thing too, but I never got an answer from either of them.
“It's different!” she argues and I can see the emotionless façade breaking. Juliette is completely silent, her eyes on the floor and I realize this is my moment to figure it out without anyone interfering.
“What is your actual problem? Why do you hate people like me so much?” I bombard her with questions, raising my voice louder and louder.
“I don't owe you any explanation,” she says with finality, averting her eyes from me and I know I have to keep pushing.
I chuckle darkly, walking closer to her. “Is it mommy issues? Daddy issues?” I pause before lowering my tone. “Or is it husband issues?”
Is this what Juliette feels anytime she is cruel to someone? It's slightly addictive, like malice is drenching from each inch of my body.
