If I Told You, You'd Hate Me

act one scene three

Yeah, I thought about him.

As steam evaporated from the shower.

Brushing out my ashy frustrating locs with ease.

Even in my first stage of sleep which wasn't even the rapid eye movement stage yet— still.

In the name of science, referring to the most realistic a way possible,

Theodore was a dream.

And there was no other way to describe it.

"You know, I'd never understand why you'd take up a job." My mother begins as make my way down the stairs. The only thing that can make the smell of French toast less appealing. Here we go.

"Harvard looks at all four years of high school, and Saturday's like these, you should be preparing for your advanced classes and applying for early scholarships!"

"For the eighteenth time mother, and I've been counting, you gotta understand my logic." I say plopping on the dining chair.

"Working in general would look good on my application, especially at McDonald's. And you can never save up enough." I defend, biting into the toast.

The most exciting thing in my life right now is  stealing the nuggets still frozen and discovering new pesticides.

Plus, it's the only time someone other than my mother is metaphorically down my throat after 6pm.

"Or you probably just like to see that boy always coming around during your shift—"

"You know what, I'm going to take this to go..." I blush hiding the smile on my face.

Metaphorically.

"He'll only slow you down." She shrugs, with a scowl. "Boys who look like that realize they don't have to try hard in anything, especially with females, not to mention, they only want one thing."

"What ever happened to not judging a book by its cover?" I sigh, preparing my myself out the door.

"People aren't books." She said flatly.

"But I can still read them." I quirked.

A blessing, and a curse

***

I stand in my bathroom looking blankly at my reflection. Different hair. Busty figure.

And thanks to fluctuating hormones, oily ass skin.

I looked as much different as I did the same. I never really stared at my self like that anyway.

The truth? I felt vulnerable looking at my self in the eye. Like everything I ran away from finally came to face off; an internal conflict made external.

Agreeing with Wren's plan to break his heart I felt a pang of déjà vu.

I've done this before. I've seen the hurt in his eyes and felt the wrath of his jealousy. I moved on.

I keep telling my self it's for the best to actually believe it is. My conscious can make this reality where no one can get hurt from this.

The result of what would happen if I didn't fall through with this is far worse.

I also have to get their confessions. Wren believes that every single one of the enclavates we're responsible for her sisters suicide.

I'm not sure what she plans to do with them after but I'm leading towards just the fact that they'll bring her closure, being that she couldn't give less of a fuck of what people think at Rosebark.