Catching Peace

Catching Peace - Twelve: Weaker Girl

Chapter Twelve
Weaker Girl

"Tell them you were mad about the way I grew strong.
Oh now,
I  think you need a weaker girl, yeah
Cause Ima need a bad motherfucker like me."

Dakota sat in the pick up truck, her eyes focused as she threw her hair up in a messy bun. She stared at her reflection before growling softly to herself and angrily took her hair out of the bun. She had no clue why she was so angry but her head was filled with thoughts and voices too loud for her to even focus. She had even been slacking on studying for her college government final that was in a few weeks.

And it all started after the day she went out with Cyrus. No, going out isn't the term to use when she was with Cyrus. It was hanging out, as pals. Good acquaintances who have an interest in the same person. So why the hell does it feel like she and him broke an unspoken promise they had with Enrique?

Why does it feel like she cheated on him?

She banged her fist against her steering wheel and soon enough reached over to her discs that laid all over the passenger seat, shifting through them. She had no clue what she was looking for but wanted something quiet, something that would get those voices shouting in her mind to be silent for just one moment. Just so she can concentrate.

It's been days since she actually saw Cyrus. Five to be exact but who is counting? Oh that's right --.

Dakota saw a St Lucia disc and soon enough, popped it in and leaned her head back against the headrest. She closed her eyes as she listened to the music flowing out of the stereo speakers. She tapped her fingers against the steering to the beat of the music and her lips soon mouthed the lyrics to the song. She opened her eyes when she felt her phone buzz in her front pocket of her jeans and it took her all but to grab the phone and chug it out the window. She didn't want to talk to anyone or even text anyone. She just wanted some peace for once in her damn life.

Her parents were at home, together and for once they weren't arguing but Dakota knew that wouldn't last so long. Soon enough, someone will mention a mistress or even a new piece of clothing found "mysteriously" on the bedroom floor and a fight will ensue. So Dakota just grabbed her keys and headed out, without a word to both drinking parents. They never cared what Dakota was doing. Or, it was that they knew she would never do what they did when they were young. Smoke, drink and have sex all willy-nilly. Rolling her eyes to herself, she put the stereo a bit more louder and took her phone out of her pocket and tossed it on her bag that was on the passenger seat.

Soon enough, another buzz came through and Dakota groaned loudly, closing her eyes, squeezing them together tightly. She didn't reach for her phone nor even attempt to see who was sending her messages. If it was important, they would call her.

What if it was Sandra and she thought she was being stalked? She pondered to herself. No, impossible. If it was that, she would call her. Not text her.

She let her head hang down against the steering wheel, her fingers wrapped tightly around the leather material. It wasn't the phone buzzing that had her acting like this, it was the effect her brain and heart had when the phone buzzed nowadays. Her heart would race and her head would chant one word, over and over. Cyrus.

She squeezed her eyes tightly and tried hard to concentrate on the music filling the truck but Cyrus just kept on being in her head. His smile, his accent, the way he pointed out the stars like he knew she would be as interested in them as he was. How he made her feel, what did he make her feel?

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she opened her eyes and stared at her fingers as they paled more and more with the strength she was putting on the wheel. She grabbed her phone and looked at the messages, seeing that it was from Enrique.