(Lesbian) Heartbreak Hotel and Other Shitty Love Songs (LGBT) (GirlxGirl)

Track Eight: Breakeven --The Script

    "I'm not. I'm bringing on the good karma," I say, trying not to roll my eyes. A grin blooms on Jenn's face, and she hops up from her chair. I'm taken aback by her burst of energy, and stumble backwards slightly. Depressed Shelby wasn't quite ready for normal Jenn.

    "I'm proud of you," She beams, giving my arm a quick squeeze. I smile wryly and watch as she takes her wedding parade back upstairs, clearly needing some alone time to drool over sequins and lace. Would she still be proud of me if she knew I was righting my karma for completely selfish reasons? Or do you think I should keep that one to myself?

    Aside from the homeschooled, and therefore socially deranged, every high-schooler has experienced the humiliation hangover at some point in their career as a student. Sure, only two people witnessed my moment of demise, but joviality spreads quickly amongst Quinton-types. Regardless, though, my tiara was tarnished and people will always notice.

    And then there was Bethany.

    The only thing that people love more than a budding homosexual romance, is its following demise.

    But it's okay, right? I'm creating peace for myself. God, how do hippie-types believe this bullshit?

    It wasn't hard to avoid Bethany. Particularly because this time, I think she's avoiding me too. I don't know what exactly she has to be so butthurt about, seeing as she's the one who formed an alliance with my rapist to break me, but if she wants to play the victim, fine. I've been the bitch before, I certainly can do it again.

    "Are you doing okay, Shelby?" Flat's voice perturbates my thoughts, and I realize that I was laying at a desk of a room that had all but emptied out. I wasn't supposed to be doing this anymore. Being his friend.

    "Sorry, I was just leaving," I mumble, trying to gather my things. Flat grabs my shoulders.

    "Woah, woah, christ, calm down," He says, a concerned smile flitting across his face. "Are you okay?" He asks. I take a deep breath, surprising myself by not welling up in tears. We've come full circle, ladies and gentlemen.

    "It's been a rough week," I exhale, dropping my bag back to the floor, and settling back into my seat. Flat tries to meet my eyes, but I resist.

    "Do you want to talk about it? Y'know, in a mentor-student, teacherly way?" He asks, attempting to straighten his tie, but only managing to askew it more drastically.

    "I'm kind of tired of talking about it," I whisper, blowing the blonde hairs out of my face. Flat rests himself against a nearby desk.

    "Mom and dad?" He asks, raising one of his thick man-brows. I nod.

    "Are they...." He starts.

    "No, no, they're fine with it, I guess," I cut him off, knowing well he didn't want to finish that question. Who would? The gay questions can be a little awkward.
    "So what's wrong then?" He looks genuinely confused.

    "Let's just say I'm getting a taste of my own medicine," I mutter, casting my gaze downwards. Flat fights off a laughing fit, and I sit back with my arms crossed.

    "Oh yeah, you think that's funny? Should have seen me nearly peeing into a sprite bottle all weekend, dying in bed," I spit out, while Flat nearly keels over. He is now unabashedly cracking up.

    "I-I'm sorry," He sputters, "I just, you kind of deserve it," His face turns red, and splotchy. It's wildly unattractive.

    "Well, then I'm sure you'll find it even more humorous to discover that I plan to right all of the wrongs I have done unto others," I sniff, raising my chin in defiance. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before we're both reduced to a giggle fit. I have to admit, it sounds pretty uniquely stupid coming from me.