[Stuff in brackets are a/n's by lucy. Sorry this chapter took pretty long. Sorry about all the future delays in this story. But at least they come through. Despite the lack of response from any readers out there.]
???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
Mystery POV
My vision was blurry as I drank from my cup again. Something buzzed in my pocket and as I took it out, I realized it was my cellphone. I snapped it open, and without looking at the caller ID, already knowing who it was, and barked into it, drowning out whatever the shitfucker on the other end had to say.
"Don't wanna know, don't wanna listen, definitely don't wanna talk about it."
"Hey, um...sweetie...you see, I was thinking over what happened and so...well....this isn't-"
I rolled my eyes. Didn't the moron know that I didn't want to hear his bullshit? Couldn't he get a hint?
"Sorry, bitch. The person you want to reach is not available at the moment. Please never call again even if it is to let her know about your impending trip to hell and the hospital and other shit she already knows." I snapped the phone shut, leaning against the wall wondering what his name was. Well he was a fudgemunching turdlicking duck so who cares. Fudging turduck. I could barely sense that there was a person beside me, and I only realised it when he said something.
"So I heard about the incident." The boy said casually as he touched a strand of my hair.
"Huh? Who are you? How do you...ughh.." I was starting to feel sick just thinking about what happened.
He raised an eyebrow. "You really are upset about this, huh? I mean, for the pretty little blonde to get all wasted over this? What happened to 'abstinence is key'?"
"When did I ever say that? Next thing you know, you're gonna accuse me of owning a purity ring," I snorted. "You still haven't told me. Who are you?"
The boy laughed lightly. "Trust me; I know enough about you to know that you wouldn't need something as silly as a purity ring to keep your v-card. You have too much pride and honour, and now, you don't want to be like Camelia. It's silly to think that a simple ring will keep you from screwing every guy in sight. In the end, it's all your own decision, unless it's rape or something. It's like thinking that just because there's a ring on your finger and a registration in City Hall or quick hitch in Vegas 5 times in a row, you're not a slut for sleeping with those 5 guys, marriage or not. Though that brings up a funny thought. Some people would think that makes you more of a slut, and a golddigger to add to your line-up of sins if you did that, than if you just slept with 5 guys for a one-night stand as a single lady."
My grip on the glass tightened, knuckles turning white.
"I didn't ask for a background story of the Desperate Housewives," I said stiffly. [Hell, I don't even watch that show. I've only seen those preview things when I'm watching tv. They just sound like sluts. Really. Who calls a show "desperate housewives" unless its about a bunch of slutty women who got out of high school too early to get hitched with her high school boyfriend to only gets ditched by him as he spends all his time working or pretending to work, and her all lonely at home not getting some and going to the bar and having one-night-stands with every guy who buys her a drink? Imma go search Wikipedia about this show. I wanna know what its really] "Who the fuck are you? And who are you to lecture me on my honour and pride and blah blah blah?" I said, squinting at him, trying to clear my vision and put a name to the face.
"I'm Cammie's friend and I was curious to see how you were doing, not, that we don't hear enough about you in the halls of just about everywhere. Did you know they talk about you in the staffroom too?"
My vision instantly cleared and all my senses were back stronger than before at the sound of her name. I glared at him angrily.
"Well you can tell that little ass-kicking cock-sucking bitch to go back to the whorehouse and this time take her matching Ken doll with her so they can both get out of my life." I spat at my sister's friend. He didn't seem like the rest of the air-headed followers. He actually seemed to have a brain. He shouldn't misuse it like this. I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes trying to mentally shoo away the impending killer headache. Just when I thought it was edging away, the clack of heels against the wood floor of the deck intruded upon my mind. The headache came back twice as bad, as images of Cam tossed around my mind. I remembered our last conversation.
"Have you seen your boyfriend around lately? He left something in my room and I've been meaning to give it back to him. Allie said that he left her place to go visit a classmate, Siobhan, and she said that he got a call in the middle of something to meet someone at a hotel, and a while after, apparently he went to the drug store to see Annalise. I just thought maybe in between seeing all those girls he might be at your place to at least dump you and live on one-night stands instead of sneaking around behind your back."
I was caught nearly speechless with fury.
"Wh-What did you just say?" I whispered faintly.
"It seems like he doesn't have the guts or honour to dump you. Well, lucky for me I've got nothing to do with him." Camelia then paused to sip from her cup of Coke. "Sister dear, should you really be drinking so much? You know you're my idol and I don't think that's a very good example for me."
I had had enough.
"YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP. Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't do and never have I ever been the star of a goddamn slut-fest like you before." I glared, then winced at the pain it caused me.
"Oh puh-leez. Do you think I don't know?" She snorted, then the scornful face instantly faded to undeniable angelicness. "I'm only doing everything you've trained me to do, and frankly, I'm better at it than you ever were." She smiled and tapped my glass with the long blood-red lacquered nail of her middle finger. "Kudos to moi." Winking, she walked away.
I seethed with fury, at the bitter memory, but quickly had to run to the bathroom. After puking my guts out, I realized something I should've remembered a while ago. The only good thing about being backstabbed was the revenge, and that was one class I excelled in. Whenever someone in the popular group wanted revenge, I was the one who secretly left notes in their purses with hints and ideas for the perfect social homicide. But since I unknowingly taught Camelia everything she knew, revenge would be a hard battle. But I had to win. And I will.
What will happen to this mysterious girl and her slutty sister? What about her annoying little friend? And more importantly... How do they tie in to the stories of Mark and Maria? Who knows... Tune in (well that doesn't really work with stories) to find out in the next chapter of... It's Not Me, It's You.
(oh gosh. Lucy was right. I sound like that dude with black hair from TDI.)
REMEMBER TO VOTE AND COMMENT!
