a million different things I could have done that day

Chapter 5

Krystelle

A week had passed since the wedding. I hadn't spoken to Carson, figuring if he wanted my company, he'd seek it. His life wasn't as messed up as mine; he had a family, friends. What I'm trying to say, is that he had a life.

I eyed the different groups stretched put across the school entrance. From the Malibu Barbies to the emo kids, how many of them had to worry about nothing more than school and dating? All. How many had workaholic mothers like mine? Two, maybe three. How many drove sports cars to school? None that l could see.

It wasn't that l was ungrateful; I knew as well as I should that I had been blessed. The best education, the best clothes, the best vacations. It was all wonderful. I'd just gotten screwed in the parental department.

Just for a moment- not being ungrateful- I wondered, What if mom and dad hadn't fallen in love? What if they hadn't gotten married like their parents told them not to? What if mom hadn't been a descendant of Elihu Yale? If even any of that hadn't been true, would I be like those kids who worried about nothing more than college and relationships?

And then-victoriously, nonetheless- I thought, screw it. Because I would never have that type of luxury.

That night, Carson was sitting on my bed- yeah, I know it sounds weird- holding our Bio book for the test we had tomorrow.

"Aren't you going to study?" he asked.

I shook my head, "I finished this afternoon."

He flipped over to the cover and tossed it aside. "We're called study buddies for a reason. You know, so we can actually study together." Then he glanced up and caught sight of my expression. "What's wrong?"

"Mom wants me to go to France next month."

"You say that like, Mom wants me to eat poop next month."

I laughed, "Yeah, I know I sound like a brat. Just bear with me, okay? Get this, it's for a baby shower."

"I thought girls loved baby showers."

"Oh, I do. I just hate the part that comes afterwards: the baby."

"What monster hates babies?"

"The baby isn't the only reason. But they're manipulative," she said defensively. "They cry and annoy you and you wanna eat them but you don't just because they're cute."

"I have no response for that assumption, just that you get the help you clearly need."

Carson.

Krystelle's room was messy and not messy. Purple and not purple. Personal and not personal. The walls were splashed with paint, in places black and in places white. It mirrored the rest of her: glamorous and simple all at the same time. Her room also shared another attribute of her's: chaotic.

A girl dressed in black walked into the room just then. Her messy blonde hair were styled in a pixie cut. "Oooh," she said upon sighting me and turned around toward Krystelle. "Hey babe, your mom's calling you downstairs, by the way."

Krystelle tossed her phone aside and left the room only to walk back in a second later. "You just wanna talk to him, don't you?"

The girl smiled. "You know me so well. Come on, let me have a little fun with your new chew toy. Are you planning to target his car too?"

"Uncalled-for!" Krystelle exclaimed.

"You, my sister, are a predator. How does this one-" she pointed a manicured finger at me "-stand a chance?"

"Right here, girls," I pointed out throwing my hands up, but my efforts to make my presence known were ignored.

Krystelle asked, "I'm the predator? Are you still going out with Brian? Because I'm pretty sure you're on the next one by now."

"Sweetie, I broke up with Brian last Monday. Since then, Josh and Gary have kept me company."

"See, this is what I'm talking about. I am not the predator."

"Oh, would you leave already?" she asked impatiently. "Go bring us some chips or something."

Groaning, Krystelle left the room.

"Hi, I'm Bliss," the girl-Bliss- said to me in a creepy, sugary voice while she stared at me.

I nodded, not entirely sure what else I was supposed to do in a situation like this. I said, "You know, the guys checks out the girl, not the other way around."

She nodded (I guess by now, we were just a bunch of teens awkwardly bobbing our heads at whatever the other said.) "I like you," she acknowledged. "Messy black hair. Sparkling hazel eyes. Glasses. You've got the hot nerd look working out for you. And she hasn't mentioned you which means you haven't asked her out yet. That's good 'cus most guys would the second they meet her." She continued, "See, the last guy she dated was a douche and I hated him, so consider yourself lucky to have earned my approval. Krystelle's my best friend. My sister. My better half. I'm telling you all of this because I like you, and if you hurt her, I will personally snap your neck. Are we Clear?"

"Crystal."