inveterate (calum au)

1: All I Am

CHAPTER ONE All I Am

     My name, is Mandy Holiver, and I am a 18 year old severely diagnosed pathological liar.
I may sound as if I'm a bit off the bat, and extreme, but lying was a way I got myself out of sticky situations, and survive with a hint of sympathy on the way. I was just so accustomed to lying, it had become apart of my daily routine. I can carry out a pretty cliché lie if the time came. I could even beat the security systems into the club, which by the way I have done before.
     Of course, no one, except for my bestfriend Avery, and my parents, which towards my own dismay, are familiar with my little disorder. I have to take around four pills a day, one in the morning, one during the afternoon, and two before I go to sleep. It's not the best thing becoming a pathological liar of course, since I have to go through seminars and therapys, and hear about a whole bunch of chicks with daddy issues and guys who believe every girl is interested in their penis and their sucky lives. Which I don't understand since I can always just lie my way through life like I have been already.
     Let's use today, as an example. I take a pill in the morning and afternoon, but that doesn't mean I cannot just lie and say I already did, knowing extremely well I fucking didn't. My seminar begins at 10:30, and it is currently 10:14. I had lied to my parents about taking my pills, and am on my way, very slowly might I add, to the adventurous building of hell they call St. Ramones. The only Ramones I was familiar with were the one's I was currently wearing on my shirt, and happen to be a pretty fucking cool band.
     "Your total is 8.40. Or you could just give me your number." A tall, blonde boy announced. His face had a winning smirk on, and I'm very much sure that I had a look of disgust on. His name tag that had the Dunkin Donuts logo, read Dylan on it. The only Dylan I was willing to give a chance would be Dylan O'Brien, and he was anything but my little teen wolf star. So of course, I did everything in my power to avoid eye contact as I reached inside of my backpocket searching for my wallet. I allowed my face to fall as I scrambled my fingers through each of my pockets.
     "Fuck.." I grumbled, a sigh falling through my plump lips. I bit it anxiously, giving Dylan an apologetic look. "I forgot my wallet in the car.." I began, twiddling with the hem of my band crop top. I huffed through the material of my highwaisted jeans, and gave him a look of innocence. The damn tool fell for it, opening the cash register and closing it soon after as his hazel eyes searched around him. I'm guessing he was making sure no one was looking, since he handed me my food and a piece of paper.
     "Enjoy your meal, sweetheart." I faked a smile, gripping onto the plastic bag and turning away towards the line. Through my peripheral vision, I saw Dylan's eyes moving up and down my backside as I rolled my eyes. I found the sheet of paper crumbled into my hands, and opened it as I made my way out the greasy store. 777-456-7890 call me hottie ;) -Dylan was written in quick ink, making me scoff in annoyance. I shoved the number inside of my pocket, as I felt the money I had hidden nearly peeking out of the hole that was inching closer towards my underwear line. I was pretty much so punk rock to the point of where even the back of my jeans had distressed holes, which may I add looks pretty hot on me.
     An award winning smile was certainly tainted on my lips, as I unlocked my car and hopped inside. With around 10 minutes to spare, I drove out of the parking lot, quickly coursing through the road and to the therapy session filled with, as I said before, bitches with daddy issues and sex crazed guys who spend all three hours staring at me with thirsty eyes. It was the worst thing I could possibly go through, and it was like high school all over again, for christ's sake. Gadly, I graduated that fucking hellhole a few weeks ago. My car sped through the streets, as Bring Me The Horizon played lowly through my stereo. I had an all black car, that had white accents and it was practically the love of my life, since it can't leave me for lying.
     If it was up to me, I wouldn't have a boyfriend since they can't seem to understand I am literally prone to telling the truth. I left my first boyfriend Christian, by saying I was moving to California, when in reality, I was just moving from Melbourne, to Sydney. I told Ashton that I hated drummers, when really, I had a soft spot for drummers, although guitarists are more of my fetish. Even if he did play both. I told Jalen that I was diagnosed with an eating disorder which I actually don't have, and last but definitely not least, I told Josiah I was an atheist. Which wasn't that much of a lie, since I didn't really worry about religion yet. If I die, I die, there's no heaven and hell, it's darkness. Atleast, I'll find out when the time comes.
     A familiar, brick building came into view, and I found myself walking out of my parked car with my already eaten cream cheese bagel and already drank water throwing it into the trash can outside. As the automatic doors opened, I shoved my car keys into my front pocket and entered the hellish familiar place I didn't want to go to at all. The cold, conditioned air hit the skin that was showing around my stomach, and made me pull down the loose black top. The smell of medicine, pain, stress, and agony washed through my nose and caused a cough to slip from my lips. It caught the attention of the main desk attendant who I was actually fond with.
     "Ms. Holiver, wonderful to see you today! Signing in, I assume?" She smiled, making me internally cringe as my hands touched the black pen. I began to scribble my name, as right above of mine, showed the name of a boy I didn't recognize. He was shown to be inside of my group, causing my eyebrows to furrow.
     "Janet, who's the new kid?" I asked curiously, dropping the pen and handing in the items inside of my pockets: my car keys, loose change, receipt from DD's, and a $50 I had stashed away somewhere. She looked up at me as she placed the items inside of a royal blue bucket. His name was written in a messy, yet spaced handwriting that I didn't understand at all, since it looks like he just quickly scribbled it in.
     "I'm not sure, didn't say much when he walked in." She simply replied, making me nod my head in understandment. I scrunched my nose, feeling my nose ring scratch gently across my bare skin. Thank god I didn't have to take it off, since that would imply that I had to go through an entire process. She handed me a tag that had my handwriting on it stating my name, and saying hello. I slapped onto my shirt, making sure to not place it on the Ramones' logo, and thanked her quietly. My feet mindlessly headed towards the elevator, as I walked inside and waited for it to arrive on my floor. After three minutes of awkward elevator music, I heard a faint ding, and the door revealed to an empty floor. The time was shown on a digital clock, and I saw that it was 10:38.
     Not at all phased at my lateness, I ended up at room 680, gripping onto the cold door handle and forcing it open. Soon enough, all eyes were placed on me as I awkwardly closed it behind me. Eyes were dropped onto my backside, as I turned back around and walked into the nearly full room filled with burgandy seats.
     "Holiver, wonderful of you to join is, don't you think?" Tobie, the "teacher" of the seminar sarcastically replied said, making me glare at him. Before letting another lie slip out of my lips, I trudged towards an empty seat next to a kid I've never seen before, guessing that was him. "Before you interrupted, we were stating our name, and the reason we're here." He gleamed. I silently snickered to myself, since he seemed so preppy and oriented when he's really a 31 year old pervert who flirts with his students and still lived with his dying mother. And I was definitely not lying about that. Everyone around me began to go, until it got to this one bitch I can't stand for the love of anything.
     "My name is Rosemary Cliffington, and I've been told that I act weird, even though I'm pretty sure I'm perfect." A badly dyed redheaded plastic said, smiling as she plopped back down into her seat. Personality Disorder.
     "Clearly something is wrong with you if you're here." I mumbled, as all eyes elevated on me. I just continued to stare at the cunt with cherry hair, while she proceeded to do the same with me. "And as if you're any better?" She scoffed, making me chuckle at her weak responce. "Do you even know how to do your roots?" She spat, as I carelessly threw one of my arms behind the chair of the boy I still don't recognize.
     "Do you even know that having period blood in your hair is a safety hazard?" I retorted, a smirk thrown onto my lips. I heard the boy next to me stiffle a laugh. She sighed as her eyes batted towards Tobie, nearly making me puke in pure and utter disgust. She was fucking our fucking teacher. And even added to that, her name is Rosemary? What the actual fuck. Tobie's throat cleared loudly as he clapped his hands together.
     "Alright, Holiver, it's your turn." He replied with a happy tone. My eyes looked back at Rosemary, pure hatred showing. I stood up, taking a step away from my chair and heard a few dog whistles errupt. "Damn, Holiver, you have a bright future behind you!" Someone errupted, making me roll my eyes and glare at the black and blue headed asshole.
     "Shut the fuck up, kitten boy." I growled, turning my ass away from him. I glanced backwards, only to see the asian looking new boy smirk while looking at my ass. I scoffed to myself. He had two mostly filled sleeves, dark eyebrows and raven colored hair, with a chisled jawline that can cut my promiscuity in half. "Anytime now." Tobie groaned, making me smirk at his frustration
     "My name is Mandy Lia Holiver, and I'm a pretty fucking pathological liar." I smiled, walking backwards and plopping right back down on my seat. I faced the direction of the new boy and saw he was looking at me too. His plump and soft looking lips curved into the sexiest smirk I've ever seen, as he winked and stood up to where I was positioned. His outfit became more clear, as I noticed he was wearing a pair of authentic black vans, a pair of black skinny jeans, and a tight black shirt that showed off his biceps and tattoos. If he wasn't so hot, I'd smack the asshole out of his ass.
     "My name is Calum Hood, and I'm a 19 year old with some pretty bad anger issues they call Intermittent Explosive Disorder."

-

Damn, that actually seems kinda hot.