The Last Days Of Senior Year

What A Way To End The Year (2)

Miranda Jason

+A month and a half ago+

The night was mostly a blur for me. It was meant to be a quick party, something to blow off the ever growing steam that somehow weights tons on my shoulders. I had asked my girlfriend to come with me, unlike her I wasn't down for getting high somewhere, but she turned down the offer. I wasn't surprised, she wasn't exactly a social butterfly but I loved her nonetheless.

I barely remember the things I did in that party, it seemed I had one too many bottles of liquor. But there's one thing I definitely remember, I rode someone senseless.

The ache in my lower region and shaky feeling in my legs left not only throbbing pain but also had me falling into an endless pit of guilt. I couldn't believe myself, I was supposed to be the sane one, the one that made rational decisions, not the one that ups and cheats.

I paced around my dimly lit room as I unconsciously bit my fingernails. My mind was racing, I couldn't think properly and that brought tears to my ears. I wondered what I was going to tell her, she was sure to find out even if I didn't.

Right when I was about to sit and wallow in a puddle of self pity, my mother walked into the room. My mother was dressed to impress, as always. Her dirty blonde hair was held up in an elegant ponytail. She had a glass of water in one hand and some pills in the other, her face was stoic and I couldn't read it properly, but I could tell she knew where I was the previous night.

She walked over and dropped the items on my bedside before taking a seat in my bed. She gestured for me to sit as well, so I found myself in awkward silence with my mother.

"Honey," she started, slicing through the rather pregnant pause. "What happened last night?" She asked softly. My mother had always been my best friend, she knew practically everything there was to know about me.

When I didn't respond to her question, she went ahead lay out her concerns. Apparently, I was brought home by a complete stranger. My mother probably queried silently on why her daughter was brought home drunk in the arms of someone other than her girlfriend, Khafi Drew.  After she had explained what occurred last night, I looked at her with a distraught look. Tears pooled in my eyes and I told her everything I could remember.

At the end of my rant, she reached out and held me in her arms. Of course, she was disappointed in me, she made that clear, which only caused more tears. But she advised me to tell my girlfriend as soon as possible and hope she forgives me.

I clung onto my mother that night, desperately, as if holding her would fix everything.

. ~

Monday soon came rolling in and my anxiety went over the roof. I had tried to contact Khafi throughout the whole weekend, but all efforts needed in vain. I had even taken the risk of going over to her house, but the place was empty. My texts weren't read and my calling led me to voicemail.

As the day progressed, I grew worried. Khafi wasn't present today. I waited some more, and soon a whole week had gone by without Khafi. At that point, I wasn't even scared of how she'd react, I was just worried about her. She hated school, like every teenager out there, but she wasn't dumb enough to skip a whole week.

I practically threw away her warning and visited her house every day. I met her parents on more than one occasion, but only them, at least, until that day.

+Two weeks ago+

I eagerly walked into the surrounding land of the duplex in front of me. My fist collided with the front door in a chaste knock. I waited not so patiently for either nothing or Khafi's parents opening the door ad giving me their usual response, "We're sorry but she's not home right now."

Instead, a tall man opened the door not even half a minute later. He had the familiar shade of skin that Khafi had, maybe a shade or two lighter. 'Shit,' I cursed in my head, this was none other than Micheal Drew, preferred time be called Mike, Khafi's older brother.

His brown eyes hardened to form a glare. I was about to cook up a lie about looking for a different house when he called my fucking name. He shouldn't know it.

"Miranda fucking Jason, isn't it?" He growled in a low tone. I couldn't deny it, this man had obviously recognised me. For a moment, I freaked out because I knew for a fact that Khafi would not willingly tell her brother about me. After a mini internal panic, I was able to have a firm grasp on my bearings.

"Y-yes, that's me- um-" I stared but he cut me off before I could go far.

"Look, I don't know- correction, I do fucking know, whatever you had with my sister, just forget it, okay. Stay away from her, got it?" I stood there like an idiot, trying to process what this guy just said.

"Got it?!" He yelled again. This time though, he didn't bother waiting for a reply. He rolled his eyes at my still figure and just proceeded to shut the door in my face.

"W-what?"