Billie White

Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Five days.

Five days, of wallowing in my own pity and grief.

Five days of trying to sort out my problems, but only making them worse.

I scowled at the numerous bars of chocolate I’d swallowed down. The sickly sweet taste coming back to my memory, and making me want to barf.

Swallowing hard, I wiped the beads of sweat from my forehead, and ran a hand through my hair. Roman hadn’t phoned or texted, but I guess he was waiting for me to do it first. He wanted to see that I was okay enough, to actually speak to him.

I’d also figured out, that he hadn’t been all to happy either, before. I hadn’t heard him, make up a word in a bit of time. It was saddening, and I knew that was partly my fault too.

My mom knew something was up as well. She hadn’t teased me about Roman for obvious reasons, and neither had she tested me on my monologue. It was still embedded and secured in my brain, but I was nothing like the starlet I used to be.

Whenever I tried to get into character, I felt awful, and I just couldn’t seem to throw myself into it. I couldn’t get into the right frame of mind. My thoughts were clouded and polluted with all these stupid taunts. My stomach grumbled in reply to the taunts, and I scolded it sharply.

Yet, when I had the chance, I managed to stuff my face with all manners of junk; all in the secrecy of my room.

I didn’t want to say that I was acting like the generic teen girl either. Stuffing herself with chocolate and ice cream and watching The Notebook ... but I was. I could see and feel myself putting on the pounds too. I felt weighed down ... and so did the scale.

I swallowed hard as the hand moved a bit more to the right than it did the day before. My toes curled tightly, and my fists balled up. 

Like a zombified puppet, I felt my body move towards the toilet; even though my mind was screaming no. I bent down, and swallowed hard. 

Cold sweat ran down the sides of my face, and I swallowed hard as my fingers gripped the edge of the seat. I clenched my jaw, and tightened my grip. My throat clogged up, and the stench from the toilet, was a mental trigger to cough up. “Billie?” I turned my head to see my mom, standing at the doorway of the bathroom. 

Her eyes were squinted as if she were about to hold back tears, and pain was swimming in her blue glazed eyes. She walked slowly up to me, and I stood up; my hands all balled up. She took hold of them, and they loosened at her touch. My tears started to well up in my eyes, and they started to sting.

“I don’t know what to do, mom,” I whispered and she pulled me into a tight hug. Her warm, motherly scent drowned my senses. I squinted my eyes tightly, but salty tears still managed to squeeze out. They dripped onto my lips, and soak into her fluffy sweater. Her hand rubbed my back soothingly, but that only made me cry more. “I want to, but I don’t know how.”

“Honey, what happened? You’ve been so good,” she murmured into my hair. “In fact, lets not talk about this in the bathroom.” I kept my head buried in her chest, as she led me to her room. A light breeze flew in and out of the window, and the constant distressed buzzing of a bee hummed in my ears. I felt it’s exasperation, not being able to get out. You see the exit, but you just can’t get to it. It was a paining, and frustrating feeling.

“I’m upset,” I admitted, and she sighed as we sat on the white bed. She pulled me away from her slightly, so I was looking directly at her.

“What happened, Billie? I thought you and Roman had made up,” she said and furrowed her eyebrows. I looked down guiltily, then back up. “You lied,” she concluded and I nodded shamefully.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” I insisted meekly.

“Billie, I’m worrying now! Honey, if it’s this whole Roman thing that’s making you feel this way, and do this ... Then I’m sorry, but you guys have to make up.” I sighed heavily, and blinked back a couple of dry tears.

“He lied to me twice, mom,” I mumbled and she pulled me into another warm hug. I looked over towards the window, to see the bee manage to fly back out of the window. Lucky thing.

“Honey, you’ve got to try and see things from his perspective. Look, tell me what he lied about, and I’ll reason it,” she mumbled softly, and rubbed my arm as she did so. My fingers played round with the pastel purple colored wool, of her sweater and I spoke again.

“He said I looked nice in a dress, and then at the party he said that actually, I didn’t.” I mumbled.

“Was he with his friends?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, and she rubbed my back again.

“He was probably being pressured, honey. Remember he’s not a man yet, you can’t expect him to act like one. He’s still learning, and I’m sure this was just one of his many mistakes.”

“Then what am I meant to expect him, to act like then, mom? Isn’t he meant to be real, even when he’s with his friends?” I argued into her chest, and I felt it rise up and deflate.

“Yes, but remember, this is probably the first time he’s had to do anything like that. You can’t let his mistakes, affect your health and life. Sweetie, you just can’t. Now what was the second thing he lied about?”

“Well he didn’t exactly lie, but he said he’d get with me,” I sighed, and I felt her chuckle lightly. “It’s not funny, mom,” I added, my voice going high but she assured me with a tight squeeze.

“He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, Billie. I know, he should’ve told you the truth but he was thinking about you.” I didn’t reply after that. My mind had turned into a giant pond, with so many duck emotions swimming rapidly round. “I’m guessing he was with his friends, at that time too?”

“Yes.”

“Billie, he’s a boy. Boy’s a queer and strange, but that’s why as girls love them so much. He said some things, he obviously didn’t mean, Billie. I know it hurts, but you can’t let a couple of boyish, peer pressured stimulated comments, break you down.”

“Mom, should I forgive him?” I whispered, and bit my dry lower lip.

“Billie ... I’m not going to dictate your heart. All I’ll say though, is that you should at least talk to him.” She said, then added, “in person.”

“I tried, mom. Yesterday.”

“Well, try again. You want to make up with him, right?”

“Yes,” I mumbled weakly, and she kissed me on the head.

“Then you have to keep on trying.”

“I don’t want him to see me like this though, mom,” I noted, my voice course. I cleared my throat and my mom spoke again.

“Billie if I were you, I’d meet up with him completely bare. No makeup. A pair of sweatpants, or T Shirt, or whatever.”

“Is that how you knew, that dad wasn’t liking you for your looks?” I asked, then looked up at her. I moved away, and she gave me a smile with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Yes, that is how I knew.” I sighed, and squeezed my mom tightly. I knew it was hard for her sometimes. “That’s how I, knew, that he truly thought, that I was some natural beauty.” I smiled slightly at her comment, and I felt her rub my back again.

“Thanks, mom,” I whispered, and I felt her chuckle again.

“It’s alright honey; anything for my baby girl.