I woke up to the sound of Sarah's laughter. The unrelenting sound of giggles came from the opposite end of the hall. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my face. Pain still resided in my ankle, and the swelling was just as bad as it had been when I fell asleep.
Blindly reaching for my phone that was sitting on nightstand, I waited for the dreaded laughter to stop. Being obnoxious wasn't the way to make me a morning person.
Squinting my eyes against the bright light invading my irises, I saw the new message icon on my home screen. In the process of trying to unlock the screen, the phone slipped out of my hands falling onto my forehead.
Time to go back to bed. Turning red from embarrassment of my own, I rubbed the spot on my skull. If this is how my Thanksgiving break is going to go, I'm going to go crawl under a rock.
Clearing the sleep from my eyes I blinked and read the messages.
Messages from Axel.
My stomach dropped in anxiety. Or was it excitement? Anger maybe?
I'm so damn sorry, Ginger. Please just let me explain everything to you. I know I screwed up, okay? I do.
The message cut into two.
But don't ever think that I don't want to be around you. I don't want you to hate me. At least let me know if you're okay?
My heart rate went up, I could feel the harsh beating inside my chest.
Yes he did screw up. But did he really want to be around me? And to hate him? I don't think I'd know how to. Unable to think of a decent response, I locked my phone and turned it face down on my nightstand.
My door opened. Stepping through into my room was Aaron. His hair and clothes were rumpled. A smear of Sarah's pink lipstick covered the right side of his lips. Catching me scanning his figure, a smirk lifted onto his lips.
"Can I help you?" I asked flatly.
"Sarah and Joanna are going to get their hair and nails done, and Steven is taking me up to the office today."
I raised one of my eyebrows, "First name basis, huh?"
He grinned, but something behind it made me queasy.
Masking my discomfort, I glared. "Did you come here to gloat, or did this serve a purpose?"
Aarons eyes roamed my face. He let out a soft laugh. "It's going to be great."
"What?" I asked completely perplexed.
"Nothing." He said before walking out.
I hated that guy, and honestly Sarah could do way better. The sound of voices and the front door shutting meant I was alone again. Maybe I wanted my nails done.
Not taking a chance to stand, I rolled off of my bed and onto the floor. Since I was going to have a lot of time on my hands, why not dig through my closet for shoes to match my dress? The heels I had from last year's party would match, being that I was usually keen on buying shoes that would match most things. A simple strap ran around the ankle on the 4 inch black heels.
I looked at the other ridiculous pairs of shoes my mom had forced on me over the years. It was all in attempt for me to look the part. Fit in. Be the daughter Sarah was, except I was the daughter she didn't want. Over the years I had tried to make it clear this wasn't what I wanted. The shoes, dresses, parties, appearance. None of it was me. My voice always faded into the background. Meaningless whispers. White noise. I couldn't ever figure out why it was like this? I was treated like the red headed step child. Literally. I threw a pair of nude heels at the wall, the heel of the shoe breaking into two. This was where Axel was supposed to come in.
The lines of what was supposed to happen became blurred when he came into the picture. I let my feelings get ahead of me, but was I being fair? Doing the right thing? Most definitely not. It was selfish of me in a way. To stray from our original plan, and involve him in my personal life was an immediate step away from the agreement. He helps me, I help him. Axel wasn't supposed to be a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen to my sob story. I just forced that on him. So realistically, this was my fault. I think.
I groaned out loud, rubbing my face. Like always I was over thinking. My fingers itched to grab my phone. Apologize for being bitchy. Tell him I'm okay. But I didn't. This was his way out, and I wasn't going to mess that up. Things happen for a reason, and this was just one of those many things.
Seriously it was time to quit thinking. Especially about him.
I fell back onto my carpet. I'd made a mess of shoes and clothes around me. A bottle of black nail polish sat in the corner of my room, under my desk. It's dark color stood out against my white walls. I wasn't really sure when I got it, but I did know that my mom despised the idea of me painting my nails such a dark color. The unopened glass bottle seemed so appealing. I stretched my arm across the floor, reaching the polish. Opening the bottle and layering on the stark black color onto my nails, I smiled a little.
Rebellion.
I wasn't familiar with it, and maybe these were baby steps but I was on my way.
If the dress don't piss her off, the nails will. Self satisfied with my now dry nails, I glanced around my blank walls.
Pushing the power button on my phone, I looked at the time. Eh, they've only been gone for 35 minutes. Let's see where this goes. Plugging my phone into my stereo, music came through the speakers. I turned up the volume, slightly nodding my head to the music.
Alex Gaskarths voice flowed through the room. "Don't lose your fight kid, it only takes a little push to pull on through"
I tore the clothes out of my closet, until nothing was left but the jeans and t-shirts I liked wearing. No scratch that, loved wearing.
The falsified image my mom had created of me felt like a cage. Getting rid of these clothes was like unlocking the door of said cage.
"Grit your teeth, pull your hair, paint that walls back and scream, 'Fuck the world 'cause it's my life, I'm gonna take it back' and never for a second blame yourself"
I piled the clothes and shoes together. My chest heaved, as I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs.
Then the idea popped into my head.
Purple paint.
A gallon or so had been bough by my dad when I had wanted to paint my room. My mom said it was a ridiculous idea, stunting my dreams of a purple bedroom.
My phone lit up. I unlocked it, my mind still conjuring up ideas of repainting my walls.
Hey! It's Lana, what are you doing today?
Actually I'm going to repaint my room, but I need to go look for decorations.
Omg! That's great we were going to the mall, you should come with us!
Well I wasn't going to be able to paint without brushes or painting rape anywhas.
I'll be there I typed back.
Looking around the room, I assessed the damage. I smiled in victory at the disorganized state of my room.
Changing into a pair of leggings and a faded Green Day shirt. I limped out of my room. The keys to car Sarah drove in high school were hanging by the garage door.
Not thinking about any repercussion, I snatched the keys and hopped to the car.
Maybe next time they'll bring me along to get my hair and nails done.
YOU ARE READING
Learning From The Bad Boy
Teen FictionAxel is the cliché badboy. He's arrogant, rude, reckless and has amazing hair. Celia is the girl that everyone overlooks unless they need their homework done before second period. The realization hits Celia that highschool will be over in a year and...