I walked back to the apartment that day in tears. I was half surprised when I found my mom still sitting in Max's room, bawling her eyes out.
I went to my room and changed to more comfortable clothes, unable to stand any longer in skinny jeans. I grabbed my bag, trying to ignore the water streaming down my face so that I could finished my homework.
I probably could have gotten a free pass to not do homework for awhile if I fessed up about Max, but then I'd have to deal with the whole 'oh, I'm so sorry!' thing. And being the loner chick that I was, it wouldn't be worth it.
I tried Chemistry homework first, like always, but my mind kept wandering to my Chem partner, and that wasn't so fantastic for me. When I tried Math, I started thinking about how Dominic and I would always attempt working on the math homework together, but would always end up making fun of it instead. I started English homework, aggravated, but I couldn't stop thinking about Max who would always look at my flashcards, trying to figure out how to pronounce the large words.
I couldn't focus on anything other than Dominic or Max.
I completely gave up on homework and shoved it away from me on the bed, only to start thinking about watching VeggieTales with Max or falling asleep wrapped tightly in Dominic's arms.
I let out a frustrated groan and sat up, walking to the shower and
stripping off my clothes. I turned on water to hot.
The apartment sucked. Literally NOTHING worked, but there was one good thing. The water pressure was like a massage. I stood under the boiling water, at first flinching away from the heat, but eventually getting used to it. I let the water work the stress-provoked knot in my muscles out, feeling quite relaxed. I was strict about my thoughts; only allowing myself to think about the water against my skin. I rubbed circles into my skull with shampoo in my hands, and it eventually became a foam. I rinsed it out of my hair and stepped out, wrapping a large, thick towel around myself, not wanting any of the heat to be lost.
I slipped into an old football jersey that I had gotten when Kyle took me to see a game for my birthday and shorts. I parted my hair and went to my bed, pulling the covers tightly over me, hoping that sleep would take me.
I woke up at the same time as usual with my Fifteen Seconds of Acceptable Complaining. It was all about Max and Dominic. I stood up and walked into the kitchen, getting a granola bar, my thoughts drifting to when Dominic, Max, and I went grocery shopping.
I bit back the tears as I tore it open and chewed it piece by piece, paying too much attention to the label.
I walked into my bedroom and put on regular clothes and was able to do my makeup at the house, which made me pay too much attention to the health and warning label on the makeup.
I left the bathroom and was scared by my mom, sitting upright on the couch.
"I've arranged for the funeral," she said.
Her voice was dull and lifeless.
"How?" I demanded.
"Honey, all I've done was set a date. Besides, it's not that big a thing," she said. I could see her stuggling with everything. "Just any of his friends that you know of."
"When?" I asked.
"Well, I was thinking in a a month or so. January 21," she said.
I nodded and left wordlessly.
She was in such a state of mourning that I didn't know who she was.
YOU ARE READING
Losing ControlTeen Fiction
Riannan's life was spent watching her five year old brother since her mother was too busy passing out at bars and hooking up with twenty-year olds to do it herself. Living in a run down apartment and working two jobs to stay there was hard work for...