If It Were Me

The Safe Haven: Part I

“Oh thanks Seaver, real mature,” Chance snapped from downstairs, her voice laced with irritation. I trudged (more like stomped) into my room and threw my bag across the bedroom. I didn’t give a damn- who ever gives a damn about anything anymore? Girls sleep with guys on the first date and wonder why they break up with them four months later. Then guys wonder why girls are all bitches and don’t want to put out like they used to. A flash of heat scorched me from the hips up as Rhonda Odom’s snaky little face crossed my mind. Girls like her ruined it for women like me.

“Seaver, you need to calm down.” I whirled around so fast the room spun. An inescapable fury burned in my veins. It scorched everything in its path and incinerated any logic.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Chance Marie Watson!” The words fell so fast and hard from my mouth that I was sure Chance didn’t understand a thing I said. But what do I give a damn? Apparently I’m going to be single for the rest of my life because I don’t want an asshole rubbing up on me. Well, a figurative asshole, not a literal one… but I wouldn’t want one of those rubbing on me too.

 “What did he even do?!” Chance shouted over my strings of fury and colorful profanity. Sailors would’ve idolized me at the rate I was going. I drew in a shaky breath, my face flushed. The rest of the days events flitted through my mind like book pages, only pausing long enough for any of it to make sense- Grant stalking off like a moody vampire, me sitting there like an idiot then deploying every possible strategy I knew to avoid having him drive me home. I had text Chance after the library occurrence and promised to answer any questions she had once she got me home. I guess it was time to pay up.

“I walked in on Grant and Rhonda.” My best friend’s eyes were two full moons of shock before she jumped beside me on my bed.

“Which Rhonda?” I scoffed and another set of images hit me like a freight train. This time the images were if I hadn’t walked in on them. Their bodies moving against the bookracks, gasping and desperate…

“You really think Rhonda Parkins would do the dirty? Seriously Chance, don’t be an idiot,” I snapped, angrily fisting my pillow. An awkward silence laid itself lazily in between us until I realized my mistake. Chance had a learning disorder- it took her twice as long if not more to comprehend basic things “normal” kids could do on the first try.

“I didn’t mean that- I’m sorry,” I added in quickly, guilt washing over me. My only response was Chance’s cerulean eyes staring worriedly at me, her doll-like mouth pressed into a thin line. Suddenly, she pressed a delicate hand onto my forearm before pinching harshly.

“Ow! That hurt,” I whined, clutching my arm on reflex.

“Well, so are my feelings, but now we’re even,” Chance said smugly, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. I rolled my eyes before muttering my surrender, not in the mood to duke it out with the dark blonde. But her mood quickly turned to her previous excitement.

 “So you walked in on Grant and Raunchy Rhonda?” I scoffed at the corny nickname, but felt that it fit.

“He was all over her- they were worse than dogs in heat,” I paused at this, feeling a disgusted look adorn my face, “she was moaning like a cat giving birth,” I added, my stomach suddenly becoming weak at the images. Those words were a lie; Rhonda had actually sounded sensual, seductive, and it only reminded me of how… not sexy I was. I ran a frustrated hand through my tresses, Grant’s face tainting the back of my eyelids.

“Did they catch you?”

“Mrs. Wempt snuck up on me and scared me so bad I knocked over half of the book rack. I practically killed them in an avalanche of hardback covers.” Chance burst into a fit of laughter. Her sky blue eyes teared up at the corners as she clutched her mouth. I stared venomously at her, embarrassment and anger scorching on my tongue.