Chapter {O1} Meeting

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I downed the remnants of the drink my friend had poured for me just minutes ago, and I relished the warm feeling of the alcohol slowly making its way down my throat.

Normally, alcohol would be something I stayed far away from, especially because of the way it tore my family apart, but tonight, it was the one thing that could get me away from those very problems.

My mother was getting remarried – again. The first few marriages were fine with me; in fact, I was happy for my mother, that someone would be able to be there for her. But when each man she got married to either cheated on her or used her for her money – which she barely had to support us with – I grew tired of them.

She never learned, though. Always falling for men and their suave words, no matter how many times those very words stabbed her in the back.

Now, I don’t even bother meeting the men she somehow finds; they’d be gone in a month, tops. Not that I was ever even home; I always stayed over at my sister’s house a few miles away from my mother’s home. She had managed to escape the madness a few years back.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mother – I did, so much that I can’t bear to watch her heart get broken repeatedly. The problem wasn’t even one I could help her fix; she’d have to do that herself.

Maybe this marriage would work out. My mother’s told me a lot about this man, more so than the last five or six men. I remember hearing that he was young, fresh out of graduate school, very good-looking too.

Sometimes I wondered how my mom managed to get these kinds of men, but I knew how, of course; my mother was beautiful. She had bright blue eyes, and short, platinum blonde hair, and every feature on her face was in perfect symmetry with the rest. She didn’t have a single wrinkle on her face, even though she was slowly approaching her 40s. People say we look and act exactly alike, but I couldn’t be more different than my mother.

She was bright, bubbly and beautiful. I was boring, dull and bland. My mother was naïve, gullible and sensitive. I didn’t trust a single word any person said to me, with the exception of my mother and a few close friends. We did have one thing in common, though; people loved to break our hearts. I gave up, though. She hadn’t, and probably never will.

“Cat, don’t you think you’ve had enough now?” I heard my friend Ann say with worry laced in her voice.

No, I’m not an animal. My full name is Catalina.

I sluggishly turned my head to face my friend.

Ann was a pretty girl with long, brown hair, warm, chocolate eyes, and a beautiful, slender body. Normally, she was the party girl, but today, she was acting like a party pooper.

“You can go ahead without me, I’ll be fine.” I said to her, feeling some of my words begin to slur. I was terrible with alcohol and I was really pushing my limits today.

“No, Cat. It’s a Tuesday night, and we have school tomorrow. We’re not even supposed to be here right now.” Ann replied, whispering the last part.

Yup, it was a Tuesday night and here I was, at a night club, getting wasted. Classy.

“Just one more hour, and then I promise, we can go home.” I said to her, turning back to the bartender and ordering another drink, who cast me a weary glance.

“Come on, is your mom getting remarried that big of a deal?” Ann suddenly said.

I narrowed my eyes at my supposed ‘best friend.’ Of course she didn’t understand the pain of watching your mother cry herself to sleep after yet another divorce, another failed marriage. She had the picture-perfect family; love, wealth and most of all, happiness. But right now, my sense of judgment was thrown off by all the alcohol I had consumed.

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