I tossed my hair a few times because after a full day of school it was looking rather flat. A girl entered the bathroom, I recognised her from my performing arts class. She was the stuck up girl who had a problem with Arlo talking to me, Calista.
She looked me up and down and then laughed to herself. I've been around enough soul-sucking leeches to know that the bitchy laugh was directed towards me.
"What?" I snapped, not in the mood to be insulted.
"Word around school is that you claim to be celibate." I sighed and continued tossing my hair. She slammed herself next to me and leaned against the sink. "I think that's a cover up."
"A cover up for what?" She laughed again, her laugh was irritating the fuck out of me.
"Because you're ugly and nobody would touch you."
"You ugly little whore!" My father threw his brandy glass against the wall and it shattered everywhere making my shoulders shudder. "You are the biggest regret of my life, nothing but a drain financially.
"It wasn't my fault, I'm so sorry father." I sobbed relentlessly but that didn't stop this one-sided three hour battle of harsh words. "The teacher sat me next to him, I had no choice."
"You're a conniving little bitch, worming your way in with the boys when I already told you that you couldn't date him. A slut! That's what you are! A slut just like your mother! Everyone would've been much better off if you had stayed dead!"
"Nobody wants you Fearne, not Jamie, not Eli, not Cameron, not Arlo, not St-"
"You're wrong." I interrupted. "I'm not celibate, I'm not even a virgin." Her thin brows soared. "I've had sex with Arlo." I turned back to the mirror and continued fixing my hair.
"Hatties Arlo?" Any happiness I felt plummeted, parachute broken, left falling ungracefully from the sky. She took a stab at my chest and it was my own fault. I set myself up for it.
"You haven't had sex with Arlo, he wouldn't touch you." There was actual filth coming off her face from the expression she wore.
Sure, I wasn't pretty. Not by the standards of Lexi or Hattie. But was I really that bad? I couldn't let her win this.
"Sure I have, plenty of times." I lied.
She folded her arms across her chest and raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
"What's he like?" Shit.
Amongst my panic I remembered Lexis words.
"Rough."
"Rough?"
"Yeah, there's a fine line between pain and pleasure. A lot to be said about the rush of excitement and anticipation when he bends you over, peels back your skirt and-" I slapped my hands together just like she did and Calista stared in a trance.
"Well how big is he?" She asked slowly, seemingly coming around to the idea of this possibly being true.
"Hmm" I gestured with my hands to show a size and smiled as her shocked face grew more and more with each inch added to the gap. "And he's tattooed." I pointed downwards.
"Tattooed!" Calista gasped in shock.
"Yep! Anyway I'm meeting him after school, so I gotta go." I smiled smugly before walking out and heading home.
When I walked through the door I could already sense the tense atmosphere. I glanced at Cameron and he lifted his shoulders to let me know he had no clue what was going on. Liam was on the phone to someone, his face becoming more and more angry as the seconds past by. I picked a peach out of the fruit bowl and bit into it, watching Liam pace up and down the kitchen.
"No I've a good idea." He grunted.
"I'll kill it." He snapped at the voice on the other end of the line. "I said I'll kill it." He hung up and slammed the phone down on the counter, then he reached up and wiped the sweat beads from the back of his neck.
"I'm going to Arlo's." I announced and jumped up from the bar stool.
"I'm coming." Liam thundered against the floor and walked ahead of me. Cameron chased after us, clearly wanting to watch whatever was about to go down.
Liam threw open their back door and walked into the house. Jordan was sat on his L-shaped sofa watching daytime television and Liam slapped him upside the head.
"Ow!" Jordan complained, rubbing the back of his head with a scowl. I'm sure it didn't hurt that much, those curls must've cushioned the blow.
"A tell-all book, really?" Jordan gave a lob sided smirk.
"Dunno what you're talking about." He turned back to the television, remote in his hand and pure amusement on his face.
Liam hit him again, not hard but still enough to make Jordan's head jolt forward. Jordan knelt up on the sofa and shoved Liam away. It was like watching two brothers fight, two ridiculously, immature, child brothers.
"Really 'cause I had VIP tickets for Saturdays Match and Ben tells me they've been revoked. Apparently someone took my name off the list."
"Jesus Christ Jord! You're going too far, the media is all over this shit, they'll drag stuff up. You better fucking kill it right now." Jordan stood up and tapped his temple.
"The things I know. The things I've seen. I've had a front row seat to it all and now someone is paying me a whole fucking lot to tell it. I might make it a fiction novel, try my hand at writing." He smirked. "It will be about you but the way I tell it even the readers will love me more."
"Stop Jord, I'm sorry okay? What I said I didn't mean it how it came out... you know that. But you're well out of line on this."
"I'll have so many people stanning me for clear skin I won't ever need to wash my face again." Liam sighed like he was exhausted from this fight.
"I'm not arguing on this, kill it or I'll kill you." Liam turned away and headed for the door.
"Can I quote you on that?" Jordan shouted after him, to which Liam retaliated with words far too crude to repeat. Jordan turned around and picked up the remote again.
"Um, can I go see Arlo?" I asked the back of his head.
"Sure whatever." Jordan mumbled.
I crept up the stairs, feeling nervous in case Arlo didn't want to see me today. I knocked on his door and got no reply, so I shouted "I'm coming in" before slowly opening the door and peeking inside.
The room lay in darkness once more, the mess piling up all around his bed. Arlo lay in a heap under the comforter, not a curl in sight.
"Hey, I'm back." I said softly. I could hear his breathing and he moved a little. "Can I come in?" He moved again but said nothing.
The room hadn't been touched since yesterday. The curtains were still drawn, the desk chair was still by the bed, dishes mounted up on the floor, laundry was still dirty and Arlo didn't just lay in the bed, he seemed anchored to it.
I sat down at the desk chair and eyed up the collection of condoms. He wiggled under the blankets but said nothing.
I picked up a little square foil packet and held it in my hand. I've never held one before, I could feel the rubber inside. It moved around the packet with ease like there was a little water in there or something. I toyed with it in my hand nervously.
"I did something really stupid today." I spoke to the mound of bedding. No reply. "You're gonna laugh." He probably wasn't going to laugh. My voice quivered. "Or you might be mad."
"Shh." He hissed sharply beneath the blanket. "Get in bed." He scooted over and I dropped the condom back in the wicker basket, thinking of Hatties naked body rubbing against his unwashed bedsheets.
"Don't you want to know what I did?" I could feel my eyes filling with guilt.
"No, just get in bed." I breathed out a sigh, maybe of relief maybe of worry. But either way I peeled back a little bit of his blanket and slipped my body beside him on the mattress.
Two wet eyes looked back at me, sooty lashes clumped with salty teardrops, he was broken and sad. I wiped away the fallen tears from his cheek and gave him a small smile. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, just laying there in a pit of his own self-deprecation.
He was pretty much silent but I spoke to him. I told him about my day in school, leaving out the web of lies I entangled myself with. I told him about the dumb fight between his dad and Liam. I told him about the hamster one of my foster homes had and how I tried to steal it when they moved me. Through sobs and sniffles he listened.
Every day I sat with Arlo. It was the same routine for two weeks straight. Some days we would just sit in silence, other days I would talk to him with small to no response. When I ran out of things to talk about I started reading to him, Of Mice and Men from his bookshelf, I loved reading the notes he made on the story.
Each day I prayed for a positive change and each day I was disappointed. He never seemed to leave the bed, he wasn't eating or drinking, he never showered or changed his clothes.
He stopped caring about everything and I wondered how long these severe depressions usually lasted. In my mind Bipolar was rapidly changing mood swings but his highs and lows didn't seem rapid, they lasted weeks with no change and I was starting to really miss him.