A/N: One offs that I've had saved and can't figure out how to write into the main story :)))))
March 2nd, 1953. 5:21 pm. The Miller Household
"No, I'm not going to stand here and let you say that to me!" I spit.
"Babe, it was a joke! Calm down!" Jack rolls his eyes.
I cross my arms. "You, Jack Miller, have absolutely no right to tell me that!"
"All I said is was that you're too emotional!"
"No, fuck you. That was a horrible thing to say!"
"Woah, someone's on their period." Jack takes a step away from me.
"You are an asshole. You're an asshole. Why would you EVER think that it was okay to say that?!"
"Wow, okay, bitch. It's not my fault that you're so fucked up!"
My jaw drops. "I can't fucking deal with your stupidity right now. I just fucking can't." I grab my purse and walk out of his room.
"Yeah, go fuck Buddy while you're at it!" He calls to me.
"He would be better than you!" I stomp down the stairs and slam the front door.
Fuck, I need a ride home. Jack lives 10 miles away from me.
I'll just find a phone and call Adalyn or Juliet or Vincent or anybody.
I start to walk to the small convience store a few blocks away.
I manage to navigate my way to the store. Aha! A payphone!
I cram myself into the small booth and fish a dime out of my purse.
Put dime in. Dial number. Wait for answer.
"Hello?" I hear Adalyn's soothing voice from the other end.
"Adalyn, it's Vi. I really need a ride home. I'm stuck near Jack's place."
"Oh, uh, lemme see if the car's home." Adalyn responds.
I hear her set the phone down and walk to the window. After a second, she comes back.
"Vi, it's not home. My mom must've taken it to the grocery store, dad's at work." I hear her sigh. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"
I try to swallow the lump in my throat. "It's fine, I'll tell you later. I have to call Juliet."
"I'm sorry Vi. I love you."
"I love you too." I muster before hanging up the phone.
I try to pull myself together before calling home and asking Juliet.
Instert another dime. Dial another number. Wait again for an answer.
No! No, wait, please, please!
Damn it!
No answer!
I feel tears slip down my cheeks and try to dial again.
No answer.
And again.
No answer.
I stomp in frustration and sit on the bench in the booth, putting my head in my hands.
Why does this have to happen to me?! What have I ever done to deserve this?
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