Song: Recipe
Artiste: Keke Palmer
The picture above is Wilma. (Vanessa's Housekeeper)
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***_***_***_***
It was around nine o' clock when I had reached the solitary of my bedroom. I had freshened up and retired to bed early as soon as I locked my window.
Somehow, this time when I climbed the tree neighboring my window, I didn't fall. Maybe the devastation I felt prevented me from focusing on how high I was climbing.
Earlier before I had encountered my second near death experience, I had stuffed my duvet with some pillows to make it seem like I was fast asleep. So in case my dad or Wilma had come into my room to check on me, they wouldn't have suspected a thing.
It was now a little past eleven o' clock in the morning. I had eaten breakfast early with my dad. He tried to make conversation here and there but I didn't know what to say to him. And I'm sure our worker, Bruce, wished he could have grabbed a bread knife from the table and slice through the tension that was in the air when he was serving breakfast.
After the awkward breakfast with my dad, I sent him a barely interested farewell. I headed back to my room. Sulking at the tragedy that was last night's events.
Ping!
A frown overtook my facial features and I lost track of how many times my phone made the dreadful sound.
I didn't have to check my phone to know that it was Sean texting me. I had seen some of his messages at the top section of my phone screen last night. But I ignored him.
What was there to say?
How would I look at him without crumbling like a poorly stacked pile of blocks?
I sat on my window seat and stared outside. Studying the fountain in my yard as water sprung up and splashed in many directions majestically.
"You look like a mess."
I knew who it was before I looked up. I could never forget that deep, sultry voice no matter what.
"I'm not in the mood for your taunts Dontae, so just leave me alone."
I turned my head towards his window to send him an exhausted look. My head pressed against my palm and an elbow took residency on the windowsill.
"Ouch," Dontae gripped his chest in mock hurt and perched himself carefully on his windowsill. He scrunched his eyebrows at me.
"What's wrong? Why were you crying?"
How does he know that I was crying? I'm not even that close to him. If there was a ladder to connect the windows of our rooms, we would use five or six middle steps of the ladder to reach each other.
He smiled charmingly. "I have had plenty of girls running away from me because I refused to date them long term so I think I can catch when a girl is crying. Especially when their trying to hide their tears."
I looked away, afraid he could read every thought that was running through my mind.
"What happened?" He queried.
I sighed deeply.
"I don't want to talk about it."
It's not that I didn't want to talk about how I felt. But with Dontae? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who likes to listen to girls rant about their feelings.
"How was your date?"
I cringed.
"It was interesting," I replied vaguely.
I was conflicted between telling Dontae how I felt and not telling him because I didn't know how he would respond to what Sean did last night.
"Did Sean hurt you Vannessa?"
I felt rage burn deep within my belly.
"Why should I tell you that?"
"From your answer, I guess something did happen."
He wasn't fazed by my anger. "I saw you sneaking back in last night. It's a miracle you didn't fall and break your neck from the way you were bawling your eyes out."
I was even more infuriated.
"Don't talk about things you don't about," I spat.
Then before he can say anything else, I got up from the window, not forgetting to close the curtains in a fit of rage.
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***_***_***_***
I stare at the mirror, analyzing my reflection.
Dontae was right.
I did look like a mess.
The dark circles residing under my hazel eyes were enough to scare off a herd of rhinos.
Who am I kidding?
What will Sean ever see in me?
I'm out of his league.
He's attractive and I'm just the nerd who is trying way too hard to get his attention.
It was stupid of me to think that we could ever be anything at all.
I had never been very good at dealing with boys. They were only interested in me when they wanted help with their homework or if we were working in groups for assignments and class projects.
Since I had changed everything about me that I thought was preventing me from flourishing. I had gotten a lot of kitty calls when I walked my school's hallways. Girls glared and whispered, no doubt talking badly about me behind my back.
I had mastered the art of ignoring them, thanks to Dontae.
At the very beginning, since my dad vented out his dislike for the way I was living my life, I had started to change the way that I presented myself. Heck, I even changed the way that I acted. I walked around with more confidence now more than ever before.
My hair which always seemed to be in the messiest state at the top of my head was now almost always in neatly styled curls.
I never used to wear or care much for makeup but now I dabbled here and there with the occasional light makeup and if not light makeup, I wore lipgloss.
The distasteful, rustic excuse for clothing that used to hang from my body like a sack made for potatoes was discarded from my closet. The minute I told Wilma I wanted to change the way I dressed, she was way too excited to throw out clothes that were 'not up to her standards'.
The tasteful clothes that I never wore at the very back of my closet were now shoved to the front and the clothes I threw out were replaced with modern, stylish clothes. Stylish clothes like ripped jeans, tight leggings, shorts, skirts, stylish blouses and trendy sundresses.
I had vowed after my mom left to never wear heels or anything fancy ever again yet now whenever there is a special occasion, I find myself dressing in heels that are probably too high and risky for my feet to handle. I also found that I love experimenting with various coloured clothing. It feels... oddly therapeutic.
But in all this, I can't help thinking, maybe I'm not really interesting.
Maybe all this change was pointless.
Maybe I'm still the same weak, scared girl inside.
Maybe that's why Sean doesn't care that much about me.
I mean, my mom did abandon me to go live her best life. And if the woman that gave birth to me didn't give a diddly-squat about me, then why should a guy like Sean who isn't even close to me, care enough to stick around?
We don't even have a label. So who am I to feel hurt when he kisses other girls?
I'm so pathetic.
It didn't seem plausible for him to want me. I don't blame him through. Maybe I wouldn't want me either if I was in his shoes.
As much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't compete with Bella. She was older, prettier and way more confident than I could ever dream ever being.
She had qualities that I lacked. With her striking, neck-length, shiny dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes which often glinted with pride and her high sense of fashion. She was very popular at school too. Her social media was bursting with followers and her dad was a Grammy winner. While I was...
A nobody.
Maybe if I cut my hair and dyed it blonde, Sean would want me.
A lone tear slid down my cheek and I glanced away from my worn out reflection to my phone that buzzed from my bed. I headed towards the bed and answered it without checking the caller ID.
"Hello," my voice was low and croaky but I didn't care about that.
"Hey Vannessa!"
In one smooth motion, I wiped the tear from my face and cleared my throat. A small smile teased my lips without my consent as I mumbled a small 'hello'. My mood was already lifting.
I don't know why but without trying hard, Quincy always made me smile. Whenever I get a call from him, or a text, I always smile.
I guess his personality just allows people to feel good around him.
"Are you busy right now?" He asked. "My friends and I are going to a huge concert tonight and we want to know if you want to come with us."
As if on cue, I hear a chorus of loud voices screaming, "hey Vannessa!"
Bile rose to the back of my throat at the thought of going to another outing but the giddiness that Quincy and his friends exuded made it hard to turn down his offer.
After a moment or two, I said, "fine. What's the location?"
He told me the location for the concert and I wrote it down in the notes app on my phone. I would have to call a cab to drop me there since my car privileges have been revoked.
"We're leaving at seven and we're probably not going to make it back until twelve or one o' clock in the morning... is that ok for you?" Quincy asked, sounding worried.
I was still grounded but I think I deserve some fun after being cooped up in the house for so long. Right? What could go wrong?
"Yeah. I'll meet you there." I breathed out, playing with the frayed ends of my jeans shorts as I began concocting a plan of how to escape my room tonight.
"Are you sure? We can hang out some other time if you don't want to be out so late."
"No. I want to come." I rushed out. "Don't worry, I'll be there tonight."
A string of knocks sound at my room door before I hear my dad's voice.
"Vannessa! Open the door, I want to talk to you."
My eyes widened to mimic the size of saucers.
Crap!
Oh no. My dad can't know about my plans to sneak out tonight. I just hope he didn't hear any of my conversation so far.
"Ok great, glad to hear that you're comi-"
"Um Quincy," I called in a hushed tone, rudely cutting him off. "I'll call you when I get there ok?"
"Bye Vannessa!" Quincy's friends called out with boisterous laughter. And amidst the loud shouts, I heard Charles, Mary's boyfriend shout 'make sure you eat before you leave'.
My cheeks tinged pink when I heard them all burst out laughing in the background.
"See you tonight," Quincy chuckled and with a rushed farewell, I ran to the door.
"Hey dad."
"Why did you take so long to open the door?" He asked suspiciously.
"Um. Nothing. Just..."
I scanned my brain for a believable excuse and thankfully, I found one.
Bingo!
My index finger jutted out to point at the desk filled with scattered books and school tools.
"Studying for exams."
He nodded in approval, seemingly convinced by my half truth.
I had been studying, but I stopped a long while ago when my mind got filled with thoughts of a certain blonde haired guy with blue eyes.
"I'm glad to hear that. You need to move from your failing grades of B's and C's and go back to the Vannessa that I know who got nothing but straight A pluses."
I nibbled at my bottom lip and knotted my fingers together nervously. I was rocking on the balls of my feet at this point. As if an invisible thread was keeping me from snapping and letting loose all the dirty plans I was cooking up.
It was silent for a while. Me a nervous wreck and my dad scanning my room for anything strange.
When he was satisfied, he nodded again.
"Well, I'm going out for some work tonight so I won't be back until tomorrow morning for breakfast."
Thank heavens!
"Ok... see you tomorrow then."
I forced a smile and tried not to falter and spill the beans.
When he left my room and closed the door behind him, it felt like the thread that was holding me up finally gave into the pressure and snapped. Releasing me from the stress my body was under.
I ran a hand through my messy hair and sighed heavily.
Why am I doing this again?
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Fetish_For_Melody 💜