A Match Made In Hell

Chapter 10

Unedited

Son of a bitch, I seethe to myself hurriedly scrubbing my forearm with a damp paper towel. The water easily seeps through causing droplets to patter against the floor while a mist of cherry blossom perfume clouds around me. Not only had my father managed to smear wet dirt on my arms but also vomitted at my feet. Atarah lent me her perfume in hopes to mask the scent but I'm starting to find the smell a bit overwhelming. Most likely because it's being intertwined with the smell of left over vodka, wet dirt,and Chinese food.

I let out a grunt of frustration that resembled a gross likeness to the sound my brother makes when he pulls a muscle during one of his workouts. I discard the damp tissue angrily tossing into the nearby trash bin and carefully roll back the sleeves of my grey top in hopes to hide the dark stain on the cuff that I had been trying to wash out for the past fifteen minutes. I make sure to roll up the other one in hopes it'll help it look more natural.

It doesn't.

It looks like I have life size cheese puffs in the shape of circles around my forearms, but I say that's better than walking around with smelly stained sleeves.

I sigh turning away from the mirror unable to look at my disheveled hair, tired wide eyes, and pasty pale skin any longer. At least my outfit is cute, eh? I lazily open the door letting it slam behind me. I pull out my phone debating on whether I should bother shooting my Dad a text or not to see if he was okay. The memory of rumpled clothes, a stinging aroma that made my nose twitch, and hot clammy wet skin against mine fills my mind. I think about the way his eyes wouldn't open and his lips were chapped mumbling incoherent nonsense in his sleep.

Then the way he turned his head hoping to aim at pavement before he got into the car but ended up hitting me instead with his vomit. He grumbled and mumbled and I couldn't tell if it was an apology or not, but I told him it was okay nonetheless. Dirt clung onto the pads of his fingers then clinging to my arms as he held onto me for balance. I remember the way his head lolled back nestled in my lap once we finally managed to get him into the car. He laid sprawled out in the back seats as if nothing else existed but the darkness behind his closed eyes. He didn't open them once throughout the car ride nor once we got him home.

We put him on the couch and it felt like only seconds had gone by when he started snoring. This led to me figure he was probably still knocked out on the couch and he probably wouldn't be able to reply to my text let alone hear it as of right now. I frown looking back at my reflection plastered on the screen when I hear a shrill voice call after me.

"Hey!" A deep feminine voice calls. Not deep in a bad way, but deep in a way that sounded mature. It felt soothe and warm like velvet. It was authoritive yet every word landed softly. I stop on instinct but then pause before I could think to turn around. That couldn't possibly be at me right?

"Yes, you! Blonde chick!"

Ah, dammit.

I make a quick glance around seeing if I was the only blonde in the hallways. Just to realize fuck being the only blonde in the hallways. I was the only person here right now, period. Great.

"Uhh. Yeah?" I mumble turning around halfway crossing my arms against my chest to purposefully cover my still wet and stained sleeve. However that soon becomes the least of my worries when I meet a pair of pale blue eyes, full lips, sleek black hair cascading down high cheekbones, and glowing white skin. Kelly.

"It's Kate" She sneers. I clamp my mouth shut when realizing I had whispered that aloud. I don't usually do that. I'm not an idiot but in my defense she caught me off guard. I tend to gape and sometimes blurt out stupid things when my brain is running with sore arms from carrying a grown man into a car, into a house, and onto a couch. As well as being drenched in cherry blossom, vomit, and dirt. I decide turn around fully now eyeing her suspiciously as well as scanning our surroundings.