RMYG: Chapter 35

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Remember Me…Your Girlfriend?

Chapter Thirty-Five

I glance at my parents while we ate breakfast in peaceful silence. I open my mouth to say something but close it just as quickly, chewing on my lower lip instead.

Darn. I try not to sigh as I stab my fork into a piece of bacon and stuff it my mouth instead. My dad asks something to my mom and she answers casually. I watch them interact and am glad for the delay for what I’m about to say.

But they soon fall into silence again and before I could chicken out I opened my mouth and say:

“Jason and I are seeing each other.”

Maxine’s (Max) POV

“God, you’re such a fucking hore!”

“Like I fucking care.” I answer in return and slam his room door behind me before making my way out of who-knows-what’s-his-names house.

Pft, like I haven’t been called worse names before. ‘Hore’ was one of the kind ways to call me. I give a bitter laugh before pulling my phone out and dialing a specific number as I walked down the street.

It rings a few times before a groggy voice answers, “Hello?”

I couldn’t answer, because my eyes were starting to burn as they blurred.

“Hello? Max?”

I open my mouth to talk but instead of words coming out as they should have, a chocked up sob escaped my lips.

“Shit, Max where are you?”

Inhaling the crisp air, I pull myself together enough to answer, “The convenience store where you and I bought ice-cream on a stick that one time we were so wasted.” I answer with a loud and humiliating sniff as I fought against another sob.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Jason said and hung up without a good-bye.

Pushing my phone back into my jacket, I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket as I quicken my pace to get to the convenience store in time. I can’t believe I called him again. The last times were embarrassing enough but I can’t help keep being dependent on him to not judge me like anyone else would. Every time I feel disgusting about myself he would not say anything and just be there. Jason isn’t the one to actually talk and I’m really thankful for hat.

I don’t need anyone nagging on my ass about me needing to open up to someone. Like I have someone like that. I’ve never gotten along with girls ever since I can remember.

My previous “girlfriends” proved that. Because I grew up between four older boys who lived in the same apartment building as my parents and I, I chose to only stick around boys. It was less drama. I would always remember the times we’d be strolling around the streets like we had no home. But don’t get me wrong, my parents aren’t irresponsible like that.

They care about me; they treat me like any other parent treats their child, but maybe I wouldn’t have gotten this out of control if they’d be home more. At that time having no parents around during the day was actually pretty cool. Nobody to tell me what to do and no strict curfew. Well, there always were arguments when they were home from work before I was but other than that I could do whatever I wanted. So I did.

When I was ten, the guys gave me my first cigarette. I would have started smoking at a younger age, but Justin, the youngest of the four and the one I was closest too, would always refuse in letting anyone give me one. He and I would always shout about every little thing. But as any cliché story develops, I started crushing on him.

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