KY$ ✓

Nineteen | Little Catholic Girl

SOTC: MISA! MISA! by Corpse, Scarlxrd, Kordhell

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A Year Ago

"Eeeeek, I'm so excited!"

Through the cafeteria Zoe was guiding me to her table. I felt the burning, shocked, concerning stares from all over as her arm interlocked with mine as she skipped and I kept up. Not directed towards Zoe. Someone shouted, "Yas Queen Slay!" From a far out table in a corner. All of the states were at me; the little Catholic girl was sitting with the most popular, well-known kids in Chadwick High. I caught Juliette and Lilly at my former table, their murderous eyes about to pop out the sockets.

"This is such a revolutionary moment!" Zoe continued, voice celebratory.

Finally, we reached it, the table in the middle of the cafeteria.

At the table were three people. One being a older teen boy with a bleached, slightly overgrown buzz cut with one cross earring and a regular diamond one wearing streetwear. One was a girl wearing baggy noir jeans with heavily distressed white fish nets. Her shag cut was electric pink, and her makeup was identical to Zoe's. There was another girl with two thick wings of eyeliner wearing a corset.

"Clara, this is Steph!" Zoe giddily pointed a navy acrylic at the girl with the white fishnets. "And this is Pia!" She pointed at the girl with the thick wings of eyeliner.

"He-llo," Steph drew out, putting down a phone with a bazillion keys on it.

"Heeeey Queen!" Pia said, stretching out her arms.

Zoe's eyes crackled into fireworks as she then shot her finger to the boy. "And this is my bae, Ky-GEE! But that's my name for him. His real one's Kygo."

"Sup," Kygo said as Zoe frolicked to him, planting kisses on his cheeks. "I usually sit with my boys but I come here sometimes."

Zoe hopped back over to me and sat my butt into the chair. Then she went back to Kygo and sat on his lap.

"Girly, you slayed yesterday," Steph said to me after I sat.

"Oh, thank you," I said, intertwining my hands together. What happened yesterday was a broken record; a head banging, eardrum shattering repeat in my head for about twenty-four hours now. It felt surreal the actions I committed. Being here at this table talking to Steph Johnson didn't, either.

"Uh, thanks. I didn't really know what I was doing but I'm glad I did it," I said.

"Yeah, you did NOOOT seem like the type!" Pia gasped. "But girl if I were you I would've snapped at them, too. Weren't they in your art class, Steph?"

"Yeeees!" Steph gasped in a loud groan.

"Oh my god, I wanna tell the story," Zoe exclaimed, raising her hand then continuing. "Lilly asked the teacher what a paintbrush was. Like dead serious. Then she laughed like she was having an orgasm, even though she's literally never had one in her life and Juliette started climaxing. Like climax laughter."

Even as the story was going on, Steph, Pia, and Kygo died. It wasn't long before I started chuckling, too.

"You showed those bitches and we are so proud of a queen for revealing her crown."

My eyes flitted down as a smile crept my lips upward.

"So getting back to the subject, if I can ask, what made you finally snap at them?" Kygo asked me.

All of them stopped and looked at me.

"I was—" I paused. "I was done with titless hoes." The curse words exiting my throat drilled into my chest like a fork to a plate.

"YAAS!" Zoe screamed, throwing her fork to her plate. "That is our new queen in the castle, girlies!"

Steph smacked her chest. "Guuuurl, I love you!" she proclaimed as Pia started whistling and clapping aloud.

"I respect," Zander said, reaching his fist out and I took the fist bump.

That was a lie.

My current life state punched my brain. Right at that moment. My dad had sped away in a Ford Pickup Truck, my mom started throwing punches at me three times a week, and everyone thought I was incompetent. Then everything sucker-punched me in the face in front of the two girls I was scared to leave. It was my tortured brain's way of saying it:

I couldn't afford to be the Little Catholic Girl anymore.

Present

Whoosh!

I sprung back up in my bed at the light edge of the morning, right after I got back from talking to Ada.

Can a chick get any sleep around here?!

Suddenly the light in my room panseared my eyes like the Sun ironically doesn't to Edward Cullen to a shadow in the dark turned human at my doorway.

"Clara," Xerxes said, his rumble of a voice prominent. Deeper.

"What the fork are you doing here?!" I whispered-screeched sharper than his jawline, closing and opening my eyes from the pain of the killer light.

And when they sure adjusted, he was standing in front of me saying:

"I must show you something."

That was when he pulled the protrusion out of his pants.

Encased in hardness and redness was the monster making my jaw drop in the perfect O, its humanely programmed instinct within to protrude white. I held all certainty from the gasps I held in and how my fists gripped my sheets it wasn't a dream.

"Suck it, Clara Stratton," Xerxes rumbled from the depths of his throat.

Clutch your crosses, readers. It's time things got soaked.