Teen Idols And Happy Meals

Tea and Rollercoasters

“But . . . Why did you want to know?” I asked, confused. Her words had aroused more questions than answers.

“Well wouldn’t you want to meet the woman who stole your man?” Rosalyn casually wondered with a rhetoric tone to her antagonistic voice as she lazily drifted closer to me once again.

“Wait . . . Are you saying I stole Jacen from you?” I demanded, my tone stained with incredulity. I had to hold back a laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

She gave me a spiteful once over, curling her upper lip a little distaste. “Tell me about it,” she sneered. “I was really expecting you to be prettier.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise at her rude comment. Bitch. “Right back at you,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. “But that’s not what’s ridiculous. What’s ridiculous is the idea that Jacen would ever be with you to begin with.”

Rosalyn seemed just as surprised by my sudden demeanor shift. Well if she was going to be a bitch, I was going to be a bitch right back. Ying and Yang and all that shit. Be nice to people who are nice to you. Fuck everyone else.

“I’ll have you know we were together for six months,” she hissed, giving me a snooty look.

I gave an indifferent shrug. “He never mentioned it to me.” That ought to piss her off.

“Really?” she purred, the corners of her lips twisting as she strolled closer. “Tell me, does he still do that thing where he mumbles nonsense when you kiss him?” I had to hold back a wince at that one but she kept just pouring salt in the wound. “Does he still like it when you pull his hair?”

I did my best to ward off the mental images. I didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think about this bitch anywhere near Jacen; didn’t want to think of her touching him. It was sickening to imagine her hands on him.

“Do you?” I snapped, infuriated by her taunts and struggling to keep my cool. “Cause I could pull yours right now. Though I don’t think you’ll like it very much; I might rip some out.”

“Ooh feisty,” she teased, clawing the air in front of her, “Is that what Jacen likes about you? It must be. He really is rather insatiable in the bedroom, isn’t he? Of course, he’s always been a sucker for a whore.”

I gaped at her in outright shock. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” I snapped back, festering in rage, “From what I hear you’ve got a number dispenser on your fucking bedpost. Tell me . . . What number are you serving now?”

Rosalyn’s eyes went wide as she stalked closer to me. “What’s it matter? The only number you’re interested in is Jacen and let me assure you.” She was inches from me then, getting right in my face. She smirked devilishly down at me from her high horse. Though I suspected the heels contributed to her height the most. “He always left a very happy customer.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. It was a rather powerful compulsion to battle. “So I guess that means it’s true what I read in The Inquisitor,” I remarked spitefully, “You are a prostitute.”

She didn’t seem offended by my insults; if anything she seemed sadistically pleased by my obvious irritation. “Well I don’t know about that,” she purred easily, her cherry lips smirking at me, “But I’m sure Jacen would’ve paid if that was what it took. He’s never been shy about using his money to get what he wants.”

That struck a chord. “Don’t talk about him like that,” I snapped. “You don’t know anything about him.”

She gave a jubilant laugh then. “Au contraire mon amie; that’s where you’re wrong. I know him better than anyone,” she explained with an airy, philosophical way about her. “He and I, we’re the same.”