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I DON'T THINK Leilani truly understood how much she meant to me. I mean sure, we barely hung out since her dad got back and she started dating Ash, but I understand she was changing. I respected it, but I really missed her.
One time, when we first started being friends; I accidentally kissed her. We were both high off our asses, and I got mixed signals from her. Long story short, I'm the reason our friendship went down hill.
My legs are leaned up against the wall as I scroll through my phone, waiting for seven o'clock, which is when the absolute rager of a party is going to happen at our house. My acrylic nails tap against the screen as I comment on a random girls post calling her pretty.
The soft background noise of Taylor Swift plays, the scratching of the needle against the record comforting me. My favorite song had always been cardigan, for some strange reason I related to it more than other people. Taylor just..speaks to me.
My bedroom door flys open, Thomas walking in with a cigarette perched from his lips. Walking over to her full body mirror, he checks himself out before looking down at me. I hang off the edge of my bed, looking at him upside down.
"Yes?" I question, shutting my phone off and setting it on my chest. Thomas looks down at me, his eyes slightly narrowed.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." He hums, shaking his head as he takes another puff of his cigarette; turning around and walking out of my room.
Rolling my eyes, I do a backflip off my bed and land on my knees; the hardwood slightly painful against my body. Pushing myself off the bed, I glance at the clock on my wall.
6:39 P.M.
21 minutes.
Nodding, I turn up the volume of my record player and walk over to my closet, humming the soft tune. Biting the inside of my cheek, I flip through my clothes hanging on the hangers, landing on a cropped tank top.
Throwing it onto my bed, I throw open my dresser and grab my pair of low rise jeans, along with my belt. Stripping myself of the dirty pajamas, I walk into my bathroom and turn on the faucet, splashing my face with the cold water.
Dabbing my face with the plush towel, i sigh as I look at myself in the mirror. The scars going down my arm stare at me back, taunting me. Subconsciously putting my arms over my chest, I walk out of the bathroom and to my bed; continuing to get dressed.
The jeans sit low on my waist, as they should. Putting the belt through the loops, I pull it to the tightest it'll go, looping the excess leather through the loops. Slipping on the tank top, I pull it up so it covers my boobs, showing more of my stomach.
Biting my lip, I tilt my head as I look at myself in the mirror, finally happy with what's staring back at me. Sniffing, I look back at the clock; rolling my eyes.
6:47 P.M.
13 minutes.
Putting on deodorant and spraying a small bit of perfume, I fix my outfit one last time. My eyes snap to the bottom drawer of my dresser, where Rue's old drug stash sits.
