Liar || c. d. {DISCONTINUED for new edition}

9 | Dancing? No Thank You

*Blue's POV*

  Mom's been getting worse.

This morning, I found her in the kitchen, leaning against the open refrigerator door, shoving cheese and mayo into her mouth and gulping down V8 like some animal. When I asked if I could get something from there, she had grabbed my arm and before I knew it, she had taken a small knife and had cut a slice near my wrist. I had screamed in pain and had pulled down some long sleeved blue shirt with a jean vest to hide the cut from Chase and the Davenports. If they saw it, they would start asking questions. And that's the last thing I need right now.

By the time I had finally managed to get to school (we don't have any Band-aids so I had to wait until the blood stopped coming by holding it with a paper towel), it was already breakfast.

I hadn't eaten anything this morning and I almost passed out when I saw my blood dripping on the bathroom floor and just the sight of Bree biting into an apple made me want to throw up.

Sitting down at a table full of other girls who I didn't know, I tried to ignore the states from both Adam, Bree, Chase, and Leo from the other table and also the fact that the girls left when I arrived. I shrugged and pulled out my phone, acting like someone had sent me an urgent message that needed my immediate attention. Only problem was, I was staring at an empty contact list.

                 I felt someone grab my chair and pull me over to someone else's table and I didn't even have to look up to know that it was Chase. "What do you want?" I asked, clicking off my phone and staring up at them.

                  "Nothing, we just wanted to talk to you about the upcoming dance!" Bree squealed. I almost threw up then and there.

                 "No offense, guys, but dances are just for lamps who want to get turned off by some guy who asked them if they could change their lightbulb and then broke into a popcorn dance. They're also for people who want to get hit by a car because they weren't paying attention when someone tried to shove them off the roof!" I snapped sarcastically. Chase raised his eyebrows at me.

                  "You really don't like dances, do you?"

  "Oh, no. I love them! You get to dress up in dresses that will rip and expose places that don't need to be seen if someone steps on them and shoes that will make you fall to your death, ooh, not to mention the thousands of layers of toxic makeup smothered on things that don't need to be that covered. And then there's always the guy who you go to the dance with who ends up dancing with your ex-BFF for the rest of the dance because you were too boring for his taste and got to sit on top of the lockers for the rest of the night." All four of them were staring at me.

                  "And you know all this, how?" Leo asked, his eyes still bugged out.

I smirked as I grabbed Bree's uneaten apple and took a bite, already knowing that she didn't mind. "When your mom has had 26 sherrys in one night and is sobbing about her messed up love life back when, you pick up a thing or two." It was true. When I was 10 mom used to sob about her exes who dumped her at the worst of times, one when she was even in the dressing room and he was standing outside the door holding her clothes.

                  "26 sherrys?" Adam asked. "I thought there were only two at this school." He looked utterly confused and I just shook my head, not bothering to tell him it was an alcoholic drink, not a person.

                   "Hey, Blue, what's that on your arm?" Chase asked curiously and I looked down, internally screaming. The cut was showing. I tried to pull the sleeve down before anyone saw it, but it was  too late. Chase grabbed my arm and pulled up the sleeve again, inspecting the cut along with Bree. I hadn't realized how bad it was until now. The scab was huge, and every time they touched it I winced in pain, but tried to hide it.