Mercy

Chapter Twelve

"I've got to cover for you. It's the only way."

"No, I got this. Go home, Emily."

"No. I just have to cover for you. Your mom cannot screw this shit up. It's final. I'm staying the night, and I'm going to cover for you so you can go swimming with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" I shouted at her for the eighth time tonight. I was pulling on my shorts that would go over my black bikini. I'm basic when it comes to these things, honestly. Black, white, grey, green, I don't care. As long as it fits and I like it on myself. I made the extra effort to make myself look as good as possible with Emily braiding my hair down my back.

She tugged harshly at my braid, making my head tip back a little at the pull. "I'm going to fucking make this work, Serenity. You and Harry are going to be together for the longest time, have a huge American-British ass wedding, and you'll also have children with British accents. OK?"

Her firm tone was scaring me a little, and I rolled my eyes at her silently, humming a soft "yes" because I'm more thinking of how this swimming thing could probably go. Half-naked with Harry never seemed so tempting before but I gotta say I'm not complaining. I would have been complaining like three days ago but we're past that by now.

I sighed heavily, getting up from the bed as she finished. I stared at my figure in the mirror. You know those days when you feel absolutely pretty? And nothing can ruin your day? Until you hear something that by just tiny words can destroy all that happiness?

That was me. I'm miserable most of the time, but I don't like to think so. My mom might be the reason for that. I come home and think about my life here and suddenly I'm a mess of depression. A grey lump on the street no one cares about.

My body was curvy, a little, or so I'd want to think. I did work out here and there -- highly concerned with my looks a few years back -- and here I am. My arms were small and I almost wanted to call myself a freaking Tyrannosaurus. My height wasn't ever a problem, and I'd want it to stay that way. I'm most likely happy with my body. My thighs were a little big, but I honestly didn't care. I just liked to make sure I keep myself away from my limits.

Oh, and then I look at my chest and much of what people consider "sex appeal." I'm seventeen, but thanks to my mom's chicken, I've developed quite a lot. My mother is rather flat-chested, though my grandmother has the biggest sagging b*obs I've ever seen. I really hope my stay up for a long time. They're sometimes too big for my liking. Without a bra keeping them still, they suffocate me in my sleep or slap Clary in the face out of nowhere. I go for a hug, and they're there in the way. It's just the way it is.

I turned myself around, not aware that Emily was now texting on her phone. My butt wasn't the biggest, but squats do help to an extent. I really like the way black suits my light caramel skin. The skin on my upper arm was a little red and blotchy, which I hated, but it didn't drag too much attention since my b*obs already did that for them.

"Stop staring at yourself. We get it. You're fucking gorgeous and I hate you for it," Emily spat, not looking away from the screen of her phone. "He's coming to get you in like five minutes."

Then it settled I was a little bit anxious to leave and see him, which made me more anxious. "Is my mom sleeping? Anyone asleep? Do you eve know?"

"While you were showering and shaving in case you get lucky," She laughed loudly as I scowled her, "I told my mom and she said it was alright with your mom, too."

"My mom isn't sleeping yet?" I asked, feeling more apprehensive.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Who the fuck is going to sleep at eight in the evening?"