(Spin-off of Imaginary, more so specifically it's second book, Severity)
Cleo Vexer, a problematic teenage girl, is the sensation of your average pessimist and mediocre criminal. Still having to survive the rest of her senior year bitter and lonely...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I walk down the hallway Thursday morning during lunch period. I was heading to the library to eat my weight in emotion coping snacks.
Caslon had officially shattered me in the littlest way. I knew in my heart that it wasn't much to get angry over. He shouldn't have said it, but I also shouldn't have let it effect me so much.
An endless sea of thoughts overwhelmed me as I slowly walked down the hallway. The crowd of students gradually started lowering as the seconds ticked by.
Sicily's shoulder runs into mine as we cross opposite paths.
"Sorry," I mutter before trying to walk away. To ruin my mental success, Sicily stops me by putting a hand on my arm.
"Cleo," Her eyes are innocent and pleading, but what was underneath them was cold. "I'm sorry for what you saw happen between me and Oliver."
My shoulder turns to face her, a stone cold glare burning my vision. I wanted to show Sicily no mercy.
But a spark flew inside me, curiosity filled my veins. Though at the same time, I didn't think I was ready to hear an answer.
I bit the inside of my cheek. "How long? Just tell me that; I need a bit of honesty from at least one of you."
She hesitates. "Three months."
My eyes widen; my mind couldn't register that Oliver Walkley and my best friend had been that cruel to me. To think I had been betrayed before, was demolished as Sicily's polished expression.
"I hate you," I spat. My arm jerks away from her grasp.
"At least I won the game, Vexer." A smirk cracks onto her lips.
"And you," Sicily looks me up and down, a look of disgust crosses her face as she laughs dryly. "Must have gained a few pounds in ice cream tubs. It sure shows."
I suck in a breath as I turn and walk away. I didn't have the heart in me to speak any longer. In a school with no apparently stable friends, I just wanted to leave. I've seen people skip all the time; it was my turn to give it a run for the week.
I sobbed on the car drive home, wiping my tears before my vision was too blurry to control the wheel. I had a brief elevator ride alone on my way to my apartment.
I burst open my door and quickly lock it behind me. I was an open wreck weakly walking baby steps in my apartment. I found myself pathetic.
Somehow, I managed to guide myself to my bathroom. I closed the door, fully enclosing myself in the small space. I felt a claustrophobic heartbeat pound in my chest at first, but I let myself suffer through it.
My feet step onto the scale, I grimace at the sound of the pointer moving closer to its opposite end.
I peeked my eyes open reluctantly. The numbers suddenly started to scare me, all I could do was look at it blankly in coats of disappointment.
I lift up my flowy top, revealing my stomach. My hands rested upon my sides, feeling the pudge I had let gain over the day I found out Oliver Walkley had cheated on me.
My eyes meet the mirror; I felt sick staring at my reflection.
