College Fiend [A$AP Rocky]

Five

If it weren’t for my dispute with Sheena, I would have probably woken up this morning sad and mopy. But instead I rose out of the bed angrily, slamming doors and drawers. I wanted to wear something that made me unnoticeable today, something that would blend me into the crowd. I chose a casual, shapeless tan dress and sandals of a similar color, lastly adding a militant green jacket to engulf me on our centrally aired campus.

Now that I was ready to go—wearing no makeup and not bothering to tend to my hair—I decided to take a few dollars out of Sheena’s not-so-secret stash for lunch. I didn’t feel the least bit of hesitation as I took the money; she deserved that for being a jerk.

I finally made it out of the dorm and into the hallways that would lead me to my first period class. Despite my effort to dress blandly, a part of me felt like people would stare at me anyway. No one was staring now, though. I smiled a little bit, satisfied with my insignificance.

“Sabine Brice, if you don’t get to class in three minutes you will be late,” said Ms. Solomon. I sighed and quickened my pace to satisfy her. I didn’t need to rush though, since my class was around the corner. When I walked into the huge, cold classroom that looked more like an auditorium, it was dead silent. Mrs. Frontany stood before the class with a stone-hard expression.

And then I remembered the pop quiz.

I rushed down to the front to pick up a quiz and began to skim through it. I wasn’t late so I didn’t need to work all too speedily, but my competitive nature forced me to try to surpass the extra-early students who got a head start.

The rest of that period was spent quietly, but my mind spoke loudly. Because of everything that happened for the past few days, my efforts to be prepared for the quiz failed. I couldn’t remember not one bit of the material I studied so diligently.

I felt sorry for Hunter when he entered the class thirty minutes late with a pass from the nurse. He’d needed stitches on his upper lip, and a bandage on his nose. Besides that, he was okay. He did walk extremely slow though, saying that he was sore from blows to the stomach.

In the blink of an eye the bell rang and I didn’t even get a chance to complete the quiz. I smashed it onto Mrs. Frontany’s desk and skipped to catch up with Hunter.

“Hey,” I said to him. He glanced at me and then looked away, embarrassed. Although he didn’t return my greeting, it wasn’t because he was upset, just ashamed.

“About yesterday…I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. Maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt if—“

“Don’t worry about me, Bean. I’m fine. Just make sure to call me if Wayne calls you any names again, okay? I’m still up for a rematch.” Hunter interrupted me, smiling as much as he could with his probably aching lip. I laughed, amazed at how he could maintain his friendly persona even in that condition. We had ten minutes until our next class, but I was thinking about skipping. Maybe I would skip all of my classes today…I just wasn’t up for anything.

“I’ll bail out on Chemistry today, okay? Tell Mr. Smith I got sick or something, please.” I requested.

“Yeah, I will.”

I kissed Hunter’s cheek playfully and he blushed wildly. Again, I laughed. Only people like him could make my life better, even in these times.

                                                                              * * *

My mother died in the summer of 1987.

She was a good parent—not one of the best I could ever ask for (despite the fact that I almost always said this on holiday cards that I made for her) but still good. She provided for me, bought me (literally) the amount of clothing I needed to survive, and whooped me when it was necessary. She wouldn’t go out of her way for me though, not ever. And she kept secrets from me, like how she was cheating on my father and had a miscarriage for the man she cheated with. She rarely got me gifts on holidays, and only told me she loved me when I said it first. She wouldn’t kiss me or ask if I was okay like other mothers would. Still, I loved her endlessly and mourned terribly when she passed—not because of her death in general, but because she didn’t have enough time to learn to love me like she should have. I think my father mourned her for the same reason. He wasn’t even upset when he found out about her miscarriage.

My father was a good man also, but very strict. My stepmother started out being synthetically nice, trying to fill my mother’s void. But slowly, she turned into the monster that my father was, and the fairy-tale creator that my mother used to be. They both only wanted the best for me, and when I didn’t do my best the punishment was severe—not physical, but severe.

So as I dialed their number in my dorm all alone, I gulped and hoped for the best.

“Hello?” My father’s (ironically) flimsy voice asked.

“Hey, Dad. How are you?”

“Great; Shirley and I have been waiting for your call.” He told me a bit matter-of-factly. I could just imagine his left eyebrow raised as he said that.

“I know,” I apologized. “Things have just been busy. How’s my favorite cousin?”

“Martha is okay, she just began 3rd grade. Your aunt Kayla is still travelling the world, your uncles are still trying to invent new things…everyone is the same, Sabine.” My father spoke so I could barely understand his owrds, how rushed they were. There was noise in the background; he must have something to get back to. That didn’t matter much, since I would only be quick.

“Dad, the first holiday of the year is approaching soon.” I told him.

“So?”

I was stunned. Had he forgotten? “Well, didn’t you say you were coming to pick me up on that day?”

There was a pause. If it wasn’t for the noisiness of his background, I might have thought the call dropped.

“Oh, Sabine, I’m sorry. Shirley and I planned poorly, and we won’t be able to come and get you for the holiday. You see, we’re on vacation in the Bahamas. Right now we’re on a yacht, preparing for a party. We won’t be back in the US for two weeks. I’m sorry, honey. You’ll have to stay at the university.”

His words left me silent, staggered, puzzled. A little upset, too. Since when did my parents begin enjoying their lives? It wasn’t like them to be in the Bahamas on a yacht. They don’t even have enough money for that. And to think that I went through so much only to find that I actually could go to the party.

Suddenly, I was kind of happy.

“Dad, you know what? Don’t be sorry. I would have preferred to stay here anyway, seriously. Have fun at the party. Bye!”

I hung up before he could say another word, before I could. Everything was going to change now, definitely. I was going to the party—Wyane would see me and he would think that Neffie was the liar instead of me.

I laughed a little as I thought about it. That’ll teach her!

The bell for third hour rang then; Sheena had a free period now. She would be furious if she found me in here on her bed. I leaped off of the bed and began walking toward mine, only to trip and fall on something under Sheena’s bed.

I looked down to see what item had almost caused me to fall—it was two things, items I would never expect to see here.

One was a pink and plastic tube, a dildo, and the other was a vibrator. I gasped.

What the hell?