FicWad

Last night, my mom took the night off drinking. It was weird. I came home, and she was sitting there, waiting for me, having made the most amazing pasta I’ve ever tasted. We sat at the dining room table together and afterwards, we watched Friends together. We laughed, and we talked. Not about anything important, but it was still nice to talk at all. As much as I enjoy these nights where we pretend we’re normal, I can’t help but dread the following night; the night when she will once again become a monster.

I also got the chance to go to the Belleville Coffee Shop again before dinner. I’ve been going there every night, instead of just going after school like I usually would, in the hopes of seeing mysterious sketchbook guy. Most days he’s there, his face contorted with concentration, occasionally lighting a cigarette or taking a sip of coffee. We look at each other all the time and I wish I had the courage to ask his name, but I always get too scared he won’t be as fascinating as I make him out to be, or, and this is probably more likely, that I’ll scare him off and he’ll never come back due to the creepy stalker girl who sits around watching him draw every night.

School today was an experience to say the least. I was walking to my locker briskly, running late for English, when I bumped into Joey about two metres from my locker, sending my books spilling out of my arms and all over the hall.
‘Watch where you’re walking, dumbass!’ I hollered at him.
He turned around, smirking at me deviously, silently telling me I was going to pay for the last time I had seen him. ‘Sorry, you can probably understand why I didn’t see you. It’s really easy to forget you exist.’ The buffoons on either side of him guffawed at his remark. They all turned to continue walking.
‘Well, I suppose I’ll have to kick you in the balls every time I see you just to refresh your memory,’ I replied, smiling as sweetly as I could manage in my angry state.

Joey and his cronies turned around, and he sauntered towards me, a smug look on his face. ‘In a bad mood today, are we? Haven’t got any in a while or something?’ He sneered. I kept my mouth shut. I knew better than to fuel his taunting. Unfortunately, this backfired, because he took my silence as an invitation to continue. ‘Why don’t you just go fuck Lee Jacobs?..’ I could only stare at him while he got his revenge. ‘I’d be a bit quieter about all the guys you sleep with, I’m sure the poor guy’s real embarrassed that everyone knows. Of course, maybe he’s happy. You’re probably the first and last girl he’ll fuck this lifetime.’
A lump the size of New Jersey rose in my throat. Right then and there, I wanted to strangle him.

I watched the look of satisfaction on his face as I felt my insides constricting.
Without thinking, I spoke. ‘At least his dick’s twice the size of yours.’
Joey and his friends all burst out laughing. ‘As if you’ve even seen Joey’s cock,’ one of the assholes said, his voice dripping with derision.
‘He wouldn’t go near your diseased pussy, even if it had been decontaminated beforehand.’ All of them laughed loudly.
‘I didn’t know you could catch whore-itis,’ one of the assholes joked.
‘Oh, I meant Chlamydia,’ replied another. That was it for me. I simply stood there shaking, watching as they walked away, laughing obnoxiously, fighting off both the anger and tears that were threatening to burst from me and crush the entire school.

I’m not sure how long I stood there for, stewing in my rage, but I do know it was a long time. The halls became empty as everyone either disappeared for class or lunch periods, and suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder. I wheeled around abruptly, saying ‘what’ before even identifying the owner of the hand.
‘What’s up?’ Mikey frowned. ‘Are these yours?’ He pointed to my books, which littered the floor.
I nodded in reply. ‘Sorry, I thought you were an asshole.’
‘Oh, fair enough,’ he grinned. It faded as he looked up at my locker. ‘Is that your locker?’
I looked up to find ‘slut’ written in huge red letters on my locker. I walked over to it and reached up to touch the vivid red lettering. It didn’t even rub away. It looked like I had a new permanent way to remember which locker was mine. Oh well, numbers were so boring anyway.
‘Yeah.’ I said.
‘Who wrote that?’ He frowned.
‘I don’t know.’
‘That sucks.’ Mikey wasn’t being unsympathetic, he was simply stating a fact.
‘Yeah.’ I was beginning to think so too.

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