Little Miss Nosy

Chapter One: The Bestie & The Bully

-Edited-

'Some pests are harder to get rid of than others. Two down...two to go...'

Burnt toast with a side of threats served not even before the clock strikes eight a.m. on this lovely Monday morning. If I were superstitious I would assume the note and dead rat plushie were a bad omen foreshadowing a tragic week ahead, but I see Bella Anderson giggling in the passenger seat of the getaway car before her minion speeds down the road. 

Her presence soothes my anxiety at the threat while simultaneously spiking my irritation with her. A threat with no known source is eerie, but a bully is still a bully at the end of the day, and I suppose senior year hasn't matured Bella past her hatred for my family and I. 

I toss the rat in the trashcan in my room so mom doesn't see it and fold the note atop my dresser. 

A few deep breaths later and I'm able to stand tall before my full length mirror. Shoulders high, back straight, blonde hair secured tightly in a high ponytail...I feel confident enough to say my morning mantra.

"You're beautiful, your family is beautiful, and your day will be beautiful." Brown eyes stare back at me as I'm unable to look away from my reflection. Seconds pass before they become watery, but the alarm on my phone breaks me out of my reverie allowing me to catch the tears before they fall. 

I grab my backpack and stuff the note inside. I don't look at the mirror again, but my mantra replays in my head as if stuck on a loop. Its repetition ingrains the statement in my mind. 

Maybe one day I'll believe it. 

"Who was at the door, honey?" Mom asks while making her lunch out of last nights leftovers.

"A package delivery. Wrong house," I lie. I spread more grape jelly than needed on my toast, trying to salvage as much of the burnt areas as possible. 

Mom checks her watch and furrows her brows. "This early?"

"Mhm," I hum. 

I think I've been busted after a long pause, but she doesn't catch me in the lie. Or if she did, she doesn't mention it. "I'll be working late again. There's leftover chicken breast and veggies in the fridge, or lasagna in the freezer." 

I nod absentmindedly and take a crunchy bite out of the bread. Her getting in late while I'm settling into bed has become the norm. I never question it. She had to work more after dad handed her divorce papers not long after I entered high school. While I don't mind having the run of things most of the time, the solo dinners are never fun. 

The dining room going from having four occupants at dinner to three...then two...then one has pushed me to eating meals in my room every night. 

"The company I work for is merging with a bigger one. I managed to survive the layoffs, but got stuck with a slightly heavier work load." Mom is wearing her usual work attire: black flare leg trousers with a dark green blouse tucked in. Her brown hair is what mine used to look like before I dyed it; loose curls flowing just above her elbows. Her emerald green eyes are paired with dark circles concealed by makeup. 

Mom has always looked young, and now she's aging faster than I expected due to the stress and curve balls life has thrown her way. I'm not sure if it's career or family related, or just an accumulation of all the bad shit from both sides throughout the years.