slowly fading memories | watty's2016

19

~Missy White~

        I collapsed on my bed, heart heavy. My skirt was already riding up above my thighs, but I didn't care at the moment. Reaching my hand under the bed, I urgently reached around until my fingers glided along a cold, metal surface. Curling my fingers around it, I quickly pulled it up, opening the top. Light glowed from the screen and I rapidly typed in my password.

        My mom and dad had bought me my laptop four years ago, but it had since been replaced each year for some reason that most parents would frown upon if their bank accounts didn't swell to the size of Timbuktu when they wanted them to. I always ended up smashing it or slamming the top down so hard it cracked the screen; or something bratty like that.

        Now, I vigorously pulled up a webpage and typed in the address to Instagram — where I could see if my suspicions had been confirmed. Hurriedly logging in, I waited impatiently for it to load.

        "Dad!" I yelled after thirty-seconds of the icon telling me it was still refreshing new feed. "The stupid wifi isn't fast enough!" I heard some noises downstairs, presumably my father cursing the heavens for such an intolerable teenage girl.

       "Sorry, sweetheart! Get right on that!" He said loudly in a sickeningly and obviously forced sweet tone.

        I rolled my eyes, but immediately dismissed the conversation when the screen finally allowed the pictures I'd been looking for to pop up.

        My jaw dropped and I stared in disbelief. How could she do this? Snatching my phone out of my purse, I punched in Holly's speed-dial and pressed it to my ear, anger making my jaw lock and teeth grit in fury.

        "Hi, this is Holly," she chirped perkily into the phone. 

        "Hello Holly—"

        "Oh my gosh, Missy! I've been expecting your call! What's up; you want to talk about the Yearbook? I tried to get you a re-take, but I couldn't schedule it around the—"

        I rolled my eyes. It was obvious she was dancing around the subject; she knew what I was calling about.

        "Cut the crap, Holly! You know what you did!" I snapped angrily, continuing to scroll down the webpage.

        "Oh, Missy, I don't know what you're talking about! Did I hurt your feelings? I'm so sorry!" She said transparently, her voice high as if in despair that she'd done something wrong, but 'didn't know what.'

        "Why did you post those misleading pictures of me and Damon at the water park? You had no right to do that!" I spat heatedly, looking at a picture of me sitting on a bench with him, my face contorted with laughter and his lips pulled up into a smile, the edges of his eyes around his sunglasses crinkling. In the depiction, his arm is casually slung around my shoulders and I'm leaning forward, apparently extremely amused.

        We look like a couple, and that is the opposite of what we are.

        "I don't know what pictures you're talking about," she said innocently, her voice staticky through the horrible reception wherever she was.     

        "Holly! Grab the water balloons — we're under attack!" I heard Callaway laugh in the background, squealing. Holly giggled.

        "Sorry, Missy, I got to go — Callaway can't seem to hold her own at this new country club!" She said, before pretend kissing the line and ending the call.

        Jealousy sparked within me at not being invited, upset that Callaway may be getting one-on-one time with our superior. It looked like I was starting to have some competition.

        I was fueled on by rage as I continued to look down the refreshed feed, and I got more and more angry.

        The pictures were taken completely out of context!

        One showed me and Damon in the water, my hair pulled back in a wet ponytail. He was reaching past me to the edge of the pool to grab a towel, and I was seemingly sizing up his muscular bicep. In reality, however, I had been trying to determine whether the thing on his arm was a leaf or a bug, and if I should knock it away.

        I slammed the laptop closed.

      I heard the telltale crunch that meant Mom and Dad would soon be making another trip to the electronic store, but at this point, I couldn't care less.

        Stomping to my closet, I stripped my clothes and changed into my swimsuit, grapping my sunglasses and plucking a towel off the rack I always kept handy. Storming down the stairs, I went out the door and let it bang shut behind me, emerging into the lovely, hot day. Walking to the edge of the pool, I slipped into the chair, and reclined my head, tilting it up to the sun.

        Allowing the warm rays to soak my body, I began plotting my revenge.