The Not-So-Quite-Love-Story Story

Chapter 18- 'Kiss me, Cece'

Clearly unedited.

Claris Jacobsen

Her eyes turned to slits. "Can you really call me a hoe dressed like that?"

Disdain brewed in her features as she scrutinised the 'clothes' on my body. It pained me to admit that she was right and by the triumphant smirk on her lips that replaced the snarl, she knew that I quickly realised my fatal slip-up. Abrasiveness turned to indignation: it wasn't like I was bursting with enthusiasm to wear an outfit that pressed against my vital organs  and threatened to display my scars- thank God for watches and wristbands!

"I'm gonna need you to be a tad more respectful to my girlfriend" Ethan patronised, his eyes twinkled impishly as his arm went around Tessie's waist. 

"Why am I not surprised that prostitute is your type?" I retorted. She may have been right, but I wasn't gonna give her the opportunity to trample on my confidence.

"You Bitch-" Tessie spat venomously. She attempted to come at me but was trapped in Ethan's strong arms. 

"Come on Tess, no need to fight with the help" He whispered soothingly in Tessie's hair, yet his eyes piercing mine as he spoke. He was trying to provoke me, and was using Tessie as a means to do so. I saw the sickening parallel between him and Rick.

Rick used my mum as a constant leverage over me: he wouldn't hurt her as long as I yielded to his every demand, no matter how repulsive or illegal. But she'd hurt me and disappoint me every time, and sometimes I questioned whether what I was doing was worth it? Sacrificing myself for someone who had no problem abandoning her kids to go off with her boyfriend. I mean when I first got admitted into the psych ward at the Hospital, the only visits I got from her were when Tasia forced her or when she begged me for money because 'Ricky' left her again. 

 Then I remembered Tasia, my innocent six-year old sister who Rick would have no hesitation hurting if he couldn't have me. 

"I hate you so much, Rivers" I seethed, feeling my eyes span in a deadly stare. 

Ethan smirked it off, and lead Tessie and I into his kitchen. It was no shocked that it looked like a set for a cooking show, with a beautiful colour matching scheme. On the long, sleek marble Island was breakfast items such as bread, Milk, Eggs, Sausages, Bacon etc. And some cooking utensils.

"I'm in the mood for a full English" He said, rubbing her stomach for emphasise. "Why don't you be a good maid and go whip some up"

In the three torturous years I've had to deal with Ethan's provocation, I developed a handy little voice in my head that always reminded me to hold down my rage until I had evaded the sight of suspicious teachers. My eyes had no become deaf to that voice, and I wanted nothing more than to dash a chair at his head.

Instead I begrudgingly followed his request and whacked some frying pans ontop of the fancy Electric cooker. Soon enough, the room was robbed by the aroma of cooking meats- it smelled like a cafe. I grabbed two plates from one of the cabinets and began to dish out the Sausage, bacon, baked beans, tomatoes, Hash browns and eggy bread. 

Tessie and Ethan sat in a booth next to a large window. They were engaged in a conversation, and by the Tessie ran her fingers delicately across his forearm and by the cheeky grin of a response, it was probably along the lines of something sexual. 

I gladly disrupted their conversation with the sound of plates clattering against the table.

"Here you go, Full English. Just like you wanted" I said.

Ethan tucked into his plate with vigour, shovelling down forkfuls and baked beans and sausages- gosh he ate like a little boy. Meanwhile Tessie stared her plate, her eyebrows furrowing as she swirled the baked beans on her plate and prodded the sausages: she acted as If her food was an alien species.