"Paisley, I promise you, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be." Allie sighs, covering my hand with hers. I smack her hand away from mine, sliding down in my seat and shoving a grape in my mouth.
"Trust me, it is," I assure her. She shakes her head, taking a chip from my bag. " And then- don't get me wrong, I love his little brother- but he won't leave my room half the time."
"And his parents?"
"They've been angels." Unlike their children, I want to say. But I know that Allie will just say something else to try and make my situation feel less crappy. If you can't tell, she's the optimist in our little circle.
Speaking of our little circle...
"Ayo, look the snow roach pulled up." Allie laughs, pointing to a car not far from our table.
After school today, we decided that we needed a girls' day so we all agreed on meeting at Monty's before Allie had to go to practice. And- because I can't handle all of those people inside- we chose to sit at a table that's outdoors.
Sky puts up her middle finger, shaking her head at Allie. Allie simply laughs, grabbing a grape and throwing it at Sky.
"You're a bitch." Sky rolls her eyes, shoving Allie over to sit down on the bench.
"Kay, albino."
Sky shoves Allie at the sound of those repeated words, laughing. "You're fucking annoying, bro!"
I watch as they both poke fun at each other and call each other... rather unique names. Well, that is until something catches Sky's eye. And the only thing that can successfully catch Sky's eye is a-
"Boy!" She gasps, grabbing onto Allie's arm as she points at a figure on the other side of the window. "There's some guy in there- FUCK, he's hot too."
She runs her fingers through her hair, smacking her lips together as if she's just applied lipgloss.
Sky is dramatic, to say the least. But most of the time, it's in a fun way. Everyone that's ever met her has probably yet to forget her. I mean, she's beautiful, funny, and a bit crazy. That being said, she's everybody's type.
I turn towards the window, looking inside until I figure out who she's talking about.
"Yuck, Sky. He is not." I shake my head, putting another grape in my mouth.
She frowns, crossing her arms. "He is, you just have no taste. But since I don't have your approval..."
"First of all, I'm not falling for that. Second of all? Kamden's a dick, Sky. He's a spoiled brat with an ego bigger than Megan Haize's boobs."
She scoffs, "Nothing's bigger than Megan's boobs, but go off, I guess."
"Just let her have her fun, Lee. She likes a challenge and if you're implying that getting with Kamden will be one..." Allie trails off.
"Then I'm practically already on his dick." Sky finishes, smiling like she has not a single care in the world.
I wish I could smile like that more often.
Allie opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the simultaneous ping coming from both her and Sky's phones.
They both check their phones. "Practice." They chorus.
I furrow my eyebrows, looking at Sky. "I know Allie has to go because she plays ball but you don't... where are you going?"
"I didn't tell you?" She makes a face at her forgetfulness. "I'm going out for basketball until volleyball season starts back up."
"So everybody's playing basketball but me?" I shake my head, suddenly feeling this surge of disappointment toward myself flood through me. All because of one stupid boy.
"I'm sorry, Paisley." Allie frowns, giving my hand a squeeze. "I know how much you loved playing."
I shrug. "What's done is done."
"Sadly."
They grab their things and stand up off of the bench.
"Bye, Paise!"
"Later, Lee!"
I wave goodbye at them, standing up myself and gathering my trash to throw away.
It's strangely off-putting to be in this position. I'd always been told that I was an amazing player. I had amazing sportsmanship and was fast, pretty tall, every compliment any basketball player wants to get, I've gotten. But now, I'm outside of Monty's, wondering what warm-ups they're going to do today instead of dreading the warm-ups like I did just a few weeks ago before I got kicked off of the team.
I hate it. I hate this feeling of genuine boredom and the craving to grab a ball and throw it through a hoop. I mean, Kamden's got a basketball hoop at his house, but for some reason, since I got kicked off of the team, I don't even want to look at a ball.
Or any ball for that matter. Hell, I don't even think I want to see balls. Actual balls. Just the word balls makes me feel upset with myself.
But I guess there's nothing I can change. Like I said to Allie, what's done is done, and I can't go back. Not unless I happen to somehow create a time machine overnight.
Maybe if I analyze every time travel movie and...
No, I can't go back into a time travel phase.
Unless...
|𝔖|
I open the front door, shrugging off my bag before anything else. If you weren't aware, a woman's bag/purse is a scary place. And if you're a woman any similar to me and almost never clean out your bag and have such bad anxiety that you carry around a literal first-aid kit, then not only do I feel bad for you, but I also feel bad for the pack of gum at the bottom of your bag that's been there since you were in 8th grade.
"Hey." I hear from behind me as I kick off my shoes.
I turn around to see Kamden standing there with a bowl of cereal in his hands.
"Why are you eating cereal in the middle of the day?" I narrow my eyes at him. Everything Kamden does is questionable but really? I solely believe that cereal is a breakfast meal, if you can even call it that, that is.
The only time eating cereal after ten AM is acceptable is when I'm the one doing it.
He ignores me. "Weren't you just at Monty's?"
"Weren't you just at Monty's?" I counter, raising an eyebrow at him. He puts his bowl down on the table next to the door, crossing his arms over his chest like he's challenging me.
"I asked you first, stalker."
"So? I asked you second." I shrug, placing my shoes on the shoe rack. It's one of May's few rules. She doesn't like shoes in the house. She says it makes for a dirtier floor and while Kamden was growing up, he loved laying on the cold floor. He also got sick from pretty much everything. So May's made it a long-time habit to keep the floors clean by keeping all shoes isolated by the front door.
I turn back around to see he's going back to where he came from; the kitchen. I wish he would actually go back to where he came from.
I wonder what it would be like if you could shove a grown human back into their mother's vagina to get rid of them.
He dumps the leftover milk in his bowl into the sink, rinsing the bowl just a moment later and setting it down in the sink. He turns around to throw out his plastic spoon but stops short when he notices my eyes on him.
"Why are you looking at me like I just stabbed your Barbie doll?"
What-
I simply shrug, not in the mood to start anything. If I'm being completely honest, I'm not in the mood for anything. I feel too overwhelmed with my own bottled-up emotions to care about anything other than going up to my bedroom and crying like it's my only purpose in life.
But knowing me, if I cried, I'd be too scared to leave my room because I'd be scared that someone heard me and feel this all-consuming feeling of embarrassment wash over me by my first step past the threshold of my door.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" He calls as I walk up the stairs.
"And I'm ignoring you!" I call back, finally reaching the top of the stairs. I round the hall and walk towards my new bedroom.
Saying that feels insane to me. I think I've made it obvious that I'm not the best at dealing with changes. I never have been which is one of the many reasons that my mom always tried to keep us in one place. By place, I mean home.
When I was two, my dad left us. He paid for our rent at the house he left us with for almost three years. Then, when I was four or five, he suddenly stopped. Mom said he died.
Or at least she hoped he did.
By then, five-year-old me had this deeply rooted idea that by moving and/or leaving the way dad did, I'd lose everything. And since my mom had joked about my dad dying all the time, that included losing my life.
When mom met Frank, I was seven, maybe eight. Their relationship moved pretty fast, so we moved out of my grandpa's house and into Frank's apartment by their four-month anniversary. Then Frank got a new job when I was twelve and we had to move two cities over.
That was the first time I'd had a panic attack. And the last time. Or, it was the last time until a few days ago.
I find it funny how even when we'd been living in that apartment for almost four years, I still hadn't been comfortable there. It just felt wrong.
I'm taking my bun out of my hair when Kamden comes into my room, not even so much as knocking before he comes in.
"Yeah, come right in," I say under my breath sarcastically.
"Why are you being weird?" He crosses his arms over his chest, puffing it out as if he has all of the power in this situation. Like, some magical feeling is going to wash over me and persuade me to talk to him just because he's standing tall like a wrestler.
He could totally be a wrestler.
Once again, I ignore him. I look at my hair in my mirror. The rubber band being in there for so long and finally being taken out made a weird indent in my curly hair. I start messing with my hair, trying to even it out.
I have to ask mom to do my hair soon. Maybe I'll ask her when I'm done being pissed at her.
"You're so immature, you know that? You won't even talk to me." He scoffs, running a hand through his dirty blond hair.
Then, I hear a twig snap. Or, maybe, not a twig. My guess is it was my self-control because-
"Can you fucking stop?!" I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. "If anything, you're immature. And on top of that, you're a dick. You go from making suggestive comments, to helping me with my homework, to telling me I'm a bitch, and then to not even so much as looking at me. Leave me the fuck alone, Kamden!"
He blinks at me a few times before the corner of his lip turns up in a smirk. "Are you going to answer my question or...?"
My mouth hangs open as I blink at him for a few seconds. Then, finally, I scream, walking right up in his face and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. I push him up against the wall and while he does have quite a few inches on me, I still somehow keep my eyes at the level of his.
"I'm going to say this once, and I'm going to say this slowly so you and your pea-sized brain can comprehend it."
"I. Don't. Like you. Nor will I ever. Hell, I doubt you like me. Therefore, there is no reason as to why you continue to bug me. Unless you have some kind of secret infatuation with me, that is. If that is the case, I can assure you that there are a countless number of psychiatrists that wouldn't mind helping get over your obsession."
That's got to be it. He's obsessed. I'm his obsession. It's the only reason that makes sense. He's got some weird crazy person mindset like the guy from You. He's obsessed, he's gotta be.
Unless he's just a plain ol' asshole.
He grabs my arms, turning me around and pushing me up against the wall with a single hand holding my two wrists above my head. He leans in close to my ear.
"You still haven't answered my question, sweetheart..."
You've got to be kidding me.