When Love Walked In

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. I groaned at the sound of my nagging alarm clock. Come on, wake up. Get dressed. Blah. Blah. I reached over my bedside table and put it out of its misery. Or should I say my misery. With tremendous effort I sat up in bed and stretched, stifling a big yawn. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, event's from last night's party came rushing back.

After I had said goodbye to everyone, I elbowed my way through the crowd in my quest to reach my parents and had the unfortunate pleasure of coming face to face with whom else? Courtney. The last person I had hoped to encounter. I watched as her blue eyes widened in recognition and her lips curl into a sinister smirk. She made a show of looking all around until her gaze finally rested on me. "Awwwww. Is somebody all alone?" She taunted in a slurred tone. As she stumbled closer, her sour breath fanned over my face, to which I wrinkled my nose in disgust and tried to put some space between us. Her breath reeked of heavy booze.

Instead of edging her on, I averted my eyes and continued on my way. This only seemed to do the opposite of what I had hoped for. She clamped her bony fingers on my wrist, her French-tipped nails raking down the length of my arm in the process. I winced as her sharp nails came into contact with my skin, leaving red streaks in its wake.

"Don't think you can just walk away from, you little bitch!"She spit in my face. Maybe it's time you invested into this little thing called a dictionary so you can be more creative when it comes to your choice of words, I thought to myself.

"What did you say?"She practically shouted in my face, her fingers tightening around my wrist. As soon as I registered the mix of rage and shock in her expression that I realized I had spoken the words aloud . . . and that Courtney had heard them.

"Oh, so you don't like 'bitch', huh? How about skank? Is that creative enough for you? Or what about slut? Do any of these words appeal to your filthy nature?" Courtney said between clenched teeth.

I jerked my wrist out of her grasp and spun on my heel. "I don't know what game you're trying to play if you think they're actually you're friends. They pity you, that's all," she called after me. "No one could ever be friends with a freak like you!"

My pace slowed but I continued walking, forcing myself to remember that her words meant nothing; that there was no actual meaning to them. But it was her next words that made me stop cold.

"You're only kidding yourself if you think Damien could ever have feelings for someone like you!" she shouted across the room.

I slowly turned to face her. "What are you talking about?"

She laughed like it was a joke. "Don't play dumb! It's obvious to everyone when they see you. They way you look at Damien all the time. It makes me want to puke!"

I looked at her confused, unable to register the meaning of her words, and yet my heart beat faster. "I don't . . ."

She practically sneered at me. "Oh please. Don't act like you don't know. It's pretty pathetic if you ask me." Her eyes lit up. "I get it now. Damien pities you. That's why he's so nice to you all the time. I always told him he was too much of a softie. He never listened to me."

She crossed her arms, looking almost satisfied. "Now I have nothing to worry about. You're no competition to me and since I've learned the status of your relationship is based on pity and nothing intimate-worthy, I can win Damien back in no problem."

She waved me off with a flick of her hand and walked away, a bounce in her step. I, on the other hand, felt like a balloon that had been depleted of its natural gas, robbed of its bounce, all the energy extracted from its natural core, and left to wander aimlessly.