ROBYN'S POV
3:00 PM, finally out of this shithole! God, I swear today was the most boring day of my life. Detention was awful. The whole "going to school" thing was totally not working for me, I'm sorry. Ugh, and I was still supposed to go check out that cheer thing before I left. I made my way to my locker, battling against the slightly claustrophobia inducing crowd of children desperate to get out. As I spun my locker combination, someone jostled me on my left, and I looked over as their locker door slammed.
"Oh! Bea!" I exclaimed, quickly recognizing her bleached hair and Nirvana teeshirt. A wave of nervousness washed over me when I met her eyes. I tried to push it away.
"Oh hey, Robyn! We're locker buddies, what a lucky coincidence!" Bea said, but an undertone in her voice told me that it hadn't been much of a case of luck. "Or maybe I bribed the principal by doing extra paperwork for him.....or, you know...something like that..." she admitted in a low voice.
"There's always that possibility," I agreed, laughing. "Can't blame you for not being able to resist the fabulous R-vato." I flipped my hair and winked.
"Well, sue me. Just wanted to make sure my little Robs is okay," Bea said in a baby voice, poking the tip of my nose. "And from what I heard, you aren't. Apparently you already landed yourself in detention!"
I shrugged. "You may or may not be correct, yes."
"You little rebel, you," Bea scolded. "Not setting a very good reputation for yourself, are you now. I trained you well! High five!" Bea shouted, and we slapped our palms together so hard that we both teared up a little, wringing our stinging hands out.
"Mkay," I said regretfully, grabbing all the textbooks I would need for homework tonight (yep, homework on my first day. Scandalous, I know!) and closing my locker. "I've gotta go over to that cheer place, Maddie's making me check it out.
"Really? I didn't know you were into that," Bea said, raising her eyebrows.
"Neither did I," I replied, shaking my head.
"No worries, you'll be fine," she assured.
I said goodbye and headed to the front of the school, where I waited for Maddie to walk me to the gym like she'd promised. She appeared a few minutes later.
"Dude, Demi is sooooo pissed," Maddie warned. "Prepare yourself and check your texts and Twitter now, because you can bet she'll be taking your phone away."
"Fabulous," I sighed. "We're screwed. At least we're not going home yet. We're spared for another few hours."
Maddie snorted. "We're screwed? Try, 'you're screwed', because you're all on your own with this one, sister!"
I groaned. The last thing I wanted was for my idol/adoptive mother to be mad at me, but I swear it wasn't my fault! I seriously just can't help moving around in class; there's no way for me to stop it. "Let's get going then," I suggested, changing the topic.
We set off towards the other end of the street, where the cheer gym awaited us. All too soon, Madison was excitedly opening the door to the large brick building with a mural of a large hair bow and the caption CHEERING HEARTS on the outside, and pushing me inside.
I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the bright lights and...was that glitter all over the walls? Yep. The walls were literally plastered with glitter so bright I had to squint for a few seconds before I got used to it. A large blue sprung floor lay ahead of me, ribbons and signs proclaiming things like "All Star Nationals: Seniors Level 4.2-1st Place" and "Texas Championships: Best Music" littered the walls, and at the other end of the gym were large and mini trampolines, a long TumbleTrak with a foam pit at the end, and, packed in one corner, all sorts of differently shaped mats and landing pads and other things to make painful landings slightly less so. This reminded me so much of my old gymnastics gym, somewhere I used to spend all my free time before I quit due to hectic family life.
Last but not least, kids of every age and size were spread out over the entire cheer gym, talking and tumbling and throwing each other in the air like it was something they did every day. It probably was. They all wore black spandex Nike Pros shorts almost as revealing as the expensive thongs I once found stashed in my brother's bedroom closet (A/N: True story. Don't even ask, because I don't know the answer, nor do I want to). They also all wore large bows in their glossy high ponytails, identical to the one Amanda had been wearing earlier. Some had purple CHEERING HEARTS TEXAS T-shirts while others wore ones that evidently represented my new school, the background black and the lettering gold, our two school colours. JOHN F KENNEDY SECONDARY SCHOOL ALL STAR CHEER TEAM was plastered proudly on the front, and the last name of each athlete on the back. Others wore sparkling hoodies or sports bras with team names or logos pressed on the front.
"Robyn? Helloooooo? You there, or no?"
"Ouch! Stop it, Maddie!" I swiped Maddie's prodding fingers away, which had been jabbing me in my stomach while I was zoned out, admiring the gym. I know I had been doubtful earlier, but now that I was here, I loved it. I felt like I belonged.
"Hey! It's Demi Lovato's sister!" somebody shouted, and somehow within seconds, kids were clamoring and nattering all around us as me and Maddie cringed away from them in the middle of the cluster. "Can we have an autograph from Demi?" "Tell her to follow me Twitter, it's @FuckMeDemi!" "Tell Demi I said hi!"
"Alright! Alright!" Maddie shouted. She looked a little put out from all the attention her sister, who wasn't even with us, was getting. It must be difficult to have so many people wanting things from you that weren't even yours to give. No one really seemed to care about Maddie, only about her sister. However, she did seem to be used to it and definitely knew how to handle these kinds of situations. "If y'all would just back off for a second," Maddie shouted, "I'll make you a deal!" The chatter stopped. "If you guys treat my new sister Robyn with a ton of respect and act just like you would around anyone else, I'll get Demi to come down here in a few days and sign some autographs for you all. Does that sound good?"
We received reply in the form of a chorus of Thanks Yous and OMG REALLYs, and thankfully the crowd mostly dispersed, except for one. Amanda.
"You made it!" she cheered happily. "You're gonna love this place so much, I swear."
I couldn't help but agree enthusiastically. This place already seemed pretty cool, and I hadn't even got started yet.
"Here, change into this and we'll get started right away. You can just join in on today's practice and we'll see how it goes, kind of like a tryout, but not really." Amanda threw me a wad of clothes and a pair of white, thin shoes, and directed me to a washroom.
As I entered the washroom, what Maddie had said earlier about Demi probably taking away my phone came back to me, and I quickly checked my phone to see what I had missed. One missed call, from an unknown number. I decided to call them back, just in case. It rang three times before the other end picked up.
"Hello? This is Demi Lovato at Hollywood Records." I froze. This must be Demi's work number, which wasn't already programmed into my phone like her cell was.
"Shit," I mumbled a little too loudly under my breath.
"Robyn, is that you?"
Damn. "Uhmmm, yeah maybe,"
"Robyn! I can't believe you! Detention on the first day? Are you serious?"
"I'm sorry, Demi, it's just that I--"
She cut me off. "What did you even do? Talk back to the teacher? Make fun of someone? God forbid, Robyn Jaiya Jax Van-Leuty Lee Lovato!" (Hey, don't even laugh...I'm watching you! Demi told me I could change my name when she adopted me, so I may have taken a little advantage of it. Van-Leuty is my dad's last name, Lee is my mom's, my middle name, Jax, is in memory of my dead brother, and my other middle name, Jaiya, is the name of my best friend.)
Demi continued, "If you were bullying someone, I swear to god I will--"
"Demi! God no, it was just my freaking ADHD acting up again! I'm sorry, I can't--"
This time it wasn't Demi interrupting me, but rather myself. I had just flattened out the bundle of clothes Amanda had handed me, and realized what I had been given to wear. A sports bra and Nike Pros. If that wasn't clear enough, I'll say it again. She had given me a sports bra that ended halfway down my rib cage and left my midriff bare, and tiny spandex shorts that probably would cover the majority of my crotch and not much else. Not only would it show my enormous rolls of skin and whale blubber, but there'd be no way to hide my copious amount of scars, scratches, and burns that littered my body.
"Robyn? Are you there? Robyn! You're still in trouble! You can't just hang up!" Demi's voice filtered through my phone, reminding me that we were still in call.
"Hi, yeah, Demi..."
"Robyn, are you okay? You sound funny."
"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine," I stuttered.
"Robyn Jaiya J--...oh bother, I'm not going through your whole name again. Robyn Lovato, you do not sound fine at all, and if you don't tell me what's wrong right this minute, I will personally march my way over to that cheer gym and figure it out for myself."
"Demi, stop! I'm fine! My brain's just being a baby," I grumbled.
"Where are you right now, Robyn?"
"The cheer gym. You know that."
"No shit, I mean, like, doing what though?"
"Sitting in the washroom, talking to you."
"So you're sitting in the washroom alone, talking to your mother who is extremely mad at you for getting detention even though if you really wanted to, you could just hang up and go do cheer right now. On top of all that, you sound abundantly unfine. Sounds marvelously sketchy. I'll be there in 5." With that, there was a click on the other end, and then silence.
I plopped myself down on the tiled floor to wait for Demi, because I didn't exactly have any other options. Maybe if I had my entire makeup bag, I could cover most of the big scars, but there was no way I could do anything with the tiny little compact makeup case currently in my backpack. I tried to be mad that Demi was being so overprotective of me, but a small part of me was elated that she cared so much for my well being. The fact that she would drop everything to come make sure I was okay meant more than you could imagine.
Five minutes later, when Demi still hadn't shown up, I decided I may as well just suck it up and put on the damn clothes. Stalling, I slipped the bow onto my ponytail and laced up the lightweight cheer shoes, which, according to the label on the side, were called 'Nfinities'. Then, looking at the floor the entire time, so I wouldn't have to risk catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I pulled off my leather jacket and pants and quickly threw on the sports bra over my normal bra and the Nike Pros over my underwear. Done, I debated whether I should just get out of the change room without looking at myself, which could possibly cause a ton of humiliation due to my fatness, or if I should try to look at myself in the mirror, in an attempt to confirm that I looked at least marginally okay. Taking a deep breath, I raised my gaze until I was staring right at my reflection. A terrible, terrible idea, I must admit. Fat rolled out from the top of my stomach and pooled around the waistband of the shorts, and disgusting thigh fat spilled out from the leg openings. My pudgy chest threatened to explode out of the tight clothes and rip them to shreds, and scars were evident all over my body.
Scars.
"You need more scars," a little voice in my head whispered. "Make some more."
I frowned. I already had a ton of scars, and they were hard enough to hide as it was.
"But think about it," the voice said. "If people see you like this, they're not going to feel bad, because they'll just think 'Wow, she was so wimpy she couldn't even cut properly. She barely has any scars. Do you want them to think that?"
No, I didn't. So the solution was to cut even more?
"Yup."
I nodded, to no one in particular, of course, and bit my lip. Mechanically, I walked to my bag and unzipped the inside pocket, palming the cool, metal stitch ripper that I had snagged from my former mother's sewing kit. It was like a razor, but bigger, and well, better.
Without stopping to think, I made a cut from my wrist to halfway to my elbow, stopping only to observe the warm blood spill out onto my arm and then drip to the floor, before I made a second cut.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Five long cuts must surely be enough, no?
"Not enough," whispered the voice. "Do more.
Obeying the voice, I began to slash at my stomach. It wasn't like my normal self harm sessions. This time, I was numb. Each tear in my skin only made me feel stronger and barely hurt. I kept going until I couldn't feel anything at all, until all I felt was an enveloping darkness.
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A/N
This chapter is dedicated to @iLaura143 :) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!
I probably won't update for a week or so because I'm going to New York! I'll definitely write while I'm there but I dunno how much internet access we have so I'm not sure if I can upload.
I'm too tired to actually think of good chapter questions so the only things are:
1. Did y'all hear about the Dilmer make out audio? It came up on my Tumblr dashboard and it was uncomfortable af. Like I love Dilmer but just imagining them...in bed... averjoustevoervjwojrevalinevranrivqeo. No. I'm still waiting for Demi's Twitlonger rant.
2. I'm leaving for vacation in New York in literally an hour! Does anyone have any good recommendations for restaurants or places or tourists attractions to go to? I mean, besides stalking Demetria because she'll be there for the pride parade :))) hopefully she won't be shading too hard b/c of the leaked audio.
Comment for a dedication!
~Emily