Chapter 33

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Okay so, dear diary. It’s currently 9.45pm and I am sitting in my room while my friends are out there partying at Bryce’s. And you might think that I regret having said what I said to Heather in the dining hall because I could be out there with them now.

I could be dancing, maybe even getting high with Ben. But instead, I am here in my room listening to Lana Del Rey's albums on repeat while eating my whole fridge, overthinking everything I said before. Blame it on my moon sign, I don’t care.

And you know what? This is fine. I do genuinely believe this is fine and I’m totally not checking snapchat and instagram every five minutes to see what’s new.

I know that hypothetically it is not too late to show up there (not that I would want that). I could show up with a bottle of some cheap wine I bought at the gas station and apologize to Heather and her friends saying that I didn’t mean what I

I could just say that I’m on my period and thus so short tempered and I bet you my car that the guys would go all “my poor girl, I totally understand” on me.

But you know what? Fuck an apology. I’m not sorry for anything I said.

It’s the truth. I cannot stand Bryce's annoying, sexist ass and Heathers pick me attitude. And I’m not even on my period.

I honestly do not even know why I care so much about going. I’ve been to what feels like a million high school parties before and to be honest I didn’t like any of them in particular.

But I still care. I always care about everything too much and I’m so sick of it. If anyone ever finds a cure that makes you care less, hit me up.

Also, I miss Jaxon a lot lately. Sometimes I wonder if I should just spontaneously drive to California and knock at his door.

And there are moments where I’m standing in front of my mirror all “do it, I bet you won’t coward” with that random spark of motivation at 1am to get my life together right this second.

Maybe I should actually start doing things spontaneously and stop procrastinating.

But then I start wondering about what the hell I would say when I actually met him.

“Hi Jax. So, I know I took your heart, tore it apart, threw it in the mud and stomped on it, put in in the mixer and made a whole ass smoothie out of it but I miss you. You were the only best friend I ever had. I feel lonely and I love you, please let’s just be friends again and forget how much of a cunt I’ve been. Also, I think I might have fallen in love with an emo guy who’s underweight, sickly pale and in love with someone else.”

Okay, never mind. I don’t think this is a good idea. I sound pathetic.

You know what I am going to do for the rest of the night? Drown myself in self-pity even though I am so not the victim here. But who cares. It’s my party and I cry if I want to, right?

Anyway, I’ll be back with another episode of my miserable life in probably a few days.

Okay, who am I kidding. Cya tomorrow.

3 hours later:

Okay so about that pity party thing. You did in fact plan on sticking to your mission, but of course you ended up doing something entirely different because you’re a hypocrite and the clown in this story. Surprise shorty!

Anyway, so guess what you were doing right now. If you said driving to the party at nearly 2am then you were absolutely right. Ding, ding, ding! Won all the money!

What could possibly go wrong? Rodrick Heffley x readerWhere stories live. Discover now