Little Miss Hipsta (in editing )

Little Miss Hipsta~ Chapter 4

It would be a lie if I said I hated the boys' company. They're rather funny, and actually really fun to be around. When they left I went back to doing nothing, it was almost depressing. I texted Derek and he told me he needed to talk. What did I do now?

Derek comes over wearing a solemn expression. He pulls away when I attempt to hug him and sits on the sofa we'd bought together.

"What's wrong? Did I do so-"

"I cheated." I shake my head .

"You what?" The words were nothing but mere whispers. I was confused, I was hurt, and I wanted him to leave.

"Stacy I'm sorry it wasn't-"

"Get out. We're over. Get the hell out." My heart was broken. My lungs burned and my eyes felt heavy with the tears that were begging to fall. I don't cry in front of people though. That's the thing.

"I understand. But I love-"

"Get out!" A tear falls from my left eye. The anger preventing me from looking up at him. Who the hell cares I guess. I didn't need him. I had two friends in this world right now though. And a newly discovered brother. Now it just depended on who I wanted to talk to. Before I could think twice I was dialing their number.

---

"It's going to be ok. I never liked him anyway." Stella wiped my tears from my cheeks, her new acrylics poking the underneath of my eye. "Wanna go play ball or go boarding? Oh what about inviting your new friends over and we'll all have a board game marathon!" She squeals.

"What's wrong with me? Why did he do it? Am I fat? Am I ugly?" I stare down at my bracelets of different band names and singers.

"I'm gonna go dial them." Stella leaves quickly as I'm forced to stare at myself in the mirror. We had such a fun and playful relationship, I never thought I'd be sitting here like this. Hearing this from a boy who I've known since I was 10, and fell in love with at 16. Maybe it's cuz in the two years we've been together I've never had sex with him. I've refused to have sex I wanted to be a virgin till I got married. But here I am, eighteen years old and now single. Of course my high school sweetheart sleeps with someone the day after he gets out of high school. Finally old enough to buy blunt wraps and shit. So now he's gone. And I'm here.

Stella's heels click against the tile of my apartment as they come around the corner. She sighs as she stares at me.

"Don't pity me, what'd they say." I growl.

"Only Harry can come right now. And I just got called for work, but I'll wait till he gets here." She attempts to sit, her floral dress covering the couch in a small sheet.

"No. It's fine." I shoo her out and she quickly grabs her things. Our eyes lock as she reluctantly closes the door behind her.

I heave myself up off the couch and trudge into the bathroom. I look around at all my scented soaps and paintings- that Stella had so beautifully created- that hung around in my bathroom. One was of my cat Rocket. He never came out anymore the old guy. He was nearly fourteen. I loved that little black cat, he was my boy.

I stared at myself for ten minutes, studying my eyes. I studied my nose. I studied my arms. Studied my body. Studied my hair. Studied my cheekbones. In this moment I hated myself. I wasn't good enough.