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Dedicated to the wonderful AnnabelleSmithson for the cover on the right. Feast your eyes on THAT ladies *dies* seriously. Thank you so so much! <3
Chapter Twenty-Three: It's Like The Freaking Jungle Book In My Stomach
I've had a bad week. Scratch that, I've had the suckiest week possible and even though it's Friday and school will be over in an hour or two, I feel like I've been enduring this torture for eons. See, I'd been living the dream recently what with Cole in my life and all. He is the perfect, perfect most attentive boyfriend (which I'm pretty sure he is) you could ask for. The fact that even he failed to cheer me up just makes the situation all the more worse.
My mom texted my dad, I repeat, she texted him. She told him that she wouldn't be coming back anytime soon and spouted some nonsense about discovering herself. It's a little early for her to have a mid-life crisis if you ask me but that's the point here, no one asks me. My father couldn't care less; he hasn't cared about her in years if it doesn't have anything to do with my grandfather funding his campaign. He's just moved on with his life-and his secretary who I'm pretty sure gave him a hickey the other day.
Gross.
Mom will come back, eventually I guess. She's all about saving face and a divorce doesn't really scream the picture perfect suburban household. This would explain why she's asked us to tell the book club wives that she's in some remote village in Africa, volunteering for the prevention of malaria. I worry for my mother's soul, I do. She might not be a great parent but it's not like I want her to burn in hell for the rest of eternity. Maybe I'll pray for her.
Anyway, all this coincided with 'that week'; you know the one where you want to chop off everyone's head with a blunt axe? I have major abandonment issues and my mother's blatant dropping out of my life has just fueled those insecurities to a point that I think I've become psychotic. I've taken a leave from a job I only have to go to twice a week. I haven't been paying attention in class, opted out of volunteer work at the animal shelter and ditched a girl's night with Megan and Beth. No one's pushing me though; they all know what's wrong with me. I'm glad that they are so understanding, especially Cole. He understands what I'm like during what he refers to as my 'lady time' and gives me the space I so desperately need but I'm indefinitely worse this time. Thanks a lot, mom.
See what I have a problem with is how easy it was for her to just uproot her entire life and move on. When the going got tough, she hitch hiked the first ride she could get hold of and is now all set to re-invent herself. Why is it so easy for her? How could she just up and leave without even putting into consideration the amount of damage she'd leave behind? Fine, she wasn't much of a parent in any case but at least she was there. Now I hear stories about her and cabana boys and it is sickening, the way the stories amuse my dad. What they have is a disgustingly open marriage, one making a complete mockery of the institution. Why can't they just get divorced and give us all some peace of mind. At least then I'll know it's over but no, they like toying with my feelings.
With that thought, I slam my locker shut and basically stomp my way to the last class of the day. Joy, it's the one I share with the Brothers Grimm and Nikki the hoe bag. If she so much as looks at me in the wrong way today, I'll pull those extensions right out of her skull. My hormones and I have had too much of her brooding and glaring, it's time to move on sister.
"Hey" Cole says tentatively as if he's testing the waters. I'm not a shark, though I might be acting like one. It bothers me that I'm so completely crabby right now but then I can't even attempt to act differently.
I give him a small smile that takes every ounce of willpower in my body and begin digging out my Economics books. We still sit at the very back, just like in August but Cole helps me with my notes now. We're a good team and ever since we've started studying together, my grades have skyrocketed. I should be grateful for that but right now I'm just mad that I can't see the whiteboard and that my teacher is too lazy to speak just a little louder. Then I see Nicole right up in the front and I want to strangle her-with a barbed wire.
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