L O V I N G
L A K Y N
I RUSHED OUT of the cafeteria, my cheeks red and my skin burning with anger. I was furious, angry, fuming.
I can't believe him! He drives me absolutely insane with little to no effort. He's stupid and mean, he's absolutely pathetic, I don't understand what his deal is.
Several years of dealing with his consistent insults and I came to the conclusion that he's simply a horrible person whom feeds off my emotions, in returning giving him a whole lot of satisfaction.
Usually I'm able to ignore him entirely, hence why I sit next to Miles, but if new girl stole my spot, so I had no choice.
I can't handle him, he drives me completely insane.
I bet he's sitting at that table right now with a giant smirk plastered to his lips, laughing about how sensitive I am, which just irritates me even more.
I just want to walk back in there and slap him, hard. I want to ruin that pretty face of his, and give him a taste of his own medicine.
I shook my hands as I tried to calm myself down, my heels hitting against the tile as I power-walked into the girls' restrooms, two girls I didn't recognize standing in front of the mirror.
Their heads snapped towards me, "Can I help you?" I snarled.
I tried to prevent my cheeks from growing redder, not just from anger but from embarrassment too. I won't allow myself to cry, not in a public setting, I won't give others the satisfaction, everyone just wants to tear me down.
I won't allow my anger to evolve into sadness.
"Are you okay, Lila?" the brunette one asked, "Did Lakyn make you cry again?"
I rolled my eyes. She must have some balls.
I smirked, "What's your name again?"
"Poppy."
I smiled tightly, taking a step forward in an attempt to seem intimidating, just like I had done to Eden this morning.
"Listen, Polly." I spat, "You don't know me, and you certinitely don't know Lakyn, so don't act like you do."
Her eyes widened, her friend was discretely trying to slip out of the restroom, but I could see her clearly and she was being far from discrete.
"I wasn't, I was just saying—"
I hushed her, holding a finger to my lips, "I knew what you were saying." I replied humorously, "Don't try acting bitchy, it isn't working for you."
Polly scoffed, flicking her hair off her shoulder, "Whatever."
Poor comeback, Polly.
"Out."
She raised an eyebrow, "But I still need to pe—"
"Did you not just hear me?" I raised my voice.
That was all I needed to say before Polly—or Poppy, whatever the hell her name is—left, her friend trailing closely behind as they shuffled out of the restroom.
I sighed in relief. Finally, I can breathe.
If she wasn't so rude upfront, I would have asked her to leave in a much more polite manner, but some girls just can't keep their mouths shut.
She has absolutely no right to question me or Lakyn. He probably had sex with her, like he has with half of Dayton Lakes population, and now she thinks they have a connection or something.
It's pathetic, the number of girls that come up to him daily, thinking that just because he took their virginity, that they now are soul mates with a deep unbending connection. Like I said, pathetic.
I placed my sweaty palms against the marbled surface, breathing heavily. For that split second, I let my façade break, it was stupid of me to get to wound up over some meaningless boy, but the torment gets to me sometimes, whether I like it or not.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror and for a split second, I didn't see Lilac Marie Hayes, the girl with a load of money, an expensive car and the whole student body at her feet. I saw the girl with wishes she'll never be able to fulfill, I saw the girl that just wanted her mom back, the girl that didn't want to be treated like a puppet, the puppeteer being her cruel father.
But that split second was awfully short as Eden came barging through the door, a look of worry on her face as she panted.
I quickly recovered, erasing all previous traces of emotion from my face. I cleared my throat, adjusting my collar, wiping beneath my eyes before turning to face her as I tucked my blonde strands behind my ears.
"What're you doing here?" I asked with an uneasy tone.
Eden tucked a strand of her chocolate brown hair behind her ear as she took a wary steep forward, "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
Why?
"Well, I am fine." I replied, followed by a scoff.
Eden nodded seeming clearly unconvinced, "I wouldn't be."
"You wouldn't?" I questioned before releasing what I had just said, "I mean, why?"
If this was Blaire I was speaking to right now, she'd tell me to get over it. She'd say he's just jealous of my life and I shouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Harsh, but she's not wrong.
Eden leant against the sink, "No one likes to be insulted, especially in front of the entire school, practically."
I shrugged, "I'm used to it."
"Then why are you in here, alone?" she pried, "Why does it hurt you so much?"
I gulped. I know she was trying to be nice but she asks too many questions, all of which I don't want to answer.
Answering questions is like giving someone a gateway into your life. And no one deserves that privilege. No one actually wants to know the answers to these questions, they just want something gossip worthy, so they can go mess up my entire life and hold it against me.
One time I went to a party with Blaire, Miles and Lakyn. It was at Miles' house, they had just finished the season, so he threw this big get together thing.
To cut a long story short, I was bored and everyone was doing their own things. My friends had all lost their v-cards already so, surprisingly, I was the last one left. I felt an immense amount of pressure.
Everything is like a competition for me, and the fact I was the last in the running to hand my innocence to someone really didn't agree with me.
So, whilst all my friends were busy, I took this guy upstairs. We had been flirting all night, he was just some guy from the Dayton Devils lacrosse team, he was decently attractive; dirty blonde hair, green eyes and an olive complexion.
He was intoxicated, and so was I.
I remember grabbing his hand with mine, pulling him up the stairs and leading him into one of Miles' many guest bedrooms, he pushed me on the bed and it didn't feel right.
It felt like—despite the burning rage within me, that didn't agree with me in last place—none of me was ready or wanted it.
It was rushed and fast. He was too drunk to even unzip his own pants and I could barely sit up without feeling like I was about to spill my guts on his 'new jeans' I knew it wasn't right, in fact nothing has ever felt so exceedingly wrong, but I ignored that voice in my head anyways and before I knew it the metallic wrapper was torn and he was barely four inches in me.
It felt horrible, in every way imaginable.
Then, as if all my worst nightmares came true, the door flew in and in came in the one and only Lakyn Westbrook.
I was almost completely naked and the boy was entirely.
Lakyn's face portrayed so many emotions, I couldn't decipher a specific one.
The lacrosse player barely got to finish as Lakyn pulled him off me immediately, I never wrapped a blanket around me so fast.
"Don't fucking touch her!" he spat, "She's drunk and you're fucking treating her like she's some slut. You know she's a virgin, right?"
That sentence hurt because I felt like a slut. The alcohol was spilling out of my pores and I could barely see straight, but his icy orbs stood out, regardless of how blurry everything looked.
I felt dirty and extremely immodest. And the way Lakyn was staring at me threw me into a never-ending pool of grief and guilt.
Losing your first time is supposed to be somewhat bearable. But not this, it was horrid and disturbing, it wasn't forced or painful, I didn't bleed much either. It just felt so terribly wrong.
The virginity-taker left and Lakyn came in, he called me a slut and said I was desperate, especially for doing it with him.
Apparently, that guy was known for taking advantage of girls. But I didn't see it that way.
The point is, Lakyn asked me a lot of questions that night and due to the amount of Vodka in my system, I wasn't capable of saying no, so I told him everything. I told him it felt horrible, I told him that he was small and I could barely feel it, I told him that I wished I never gave my innocence to him.
How stupid, I didn't even know his name.
He didn't touch me at all. He just sat there and listened until I was decently sober, then he left me there in that room, in a pool of my own disgust and self-pity.
By the time Monday rolled around, the entire student body knew about it and I was getting cat-called left and right, and even though I high percentage of students—assumingly—had already lost their virginity, I was getting called a slut, whore, hoe, you name it.
It sucks that I have sex—which is a completely normal and natural thing—once and now, everyone thinks I 'give out easily' Lakyn included.
As you can see, the majority of my problems revolve around Lakyn Westbrook.
"It doesn't hurt." I said, straightening my posture, "I'm fine."
She raised an eyebrow, "Words hurt, whether they're big or small." Eden replied, "You're human. . .I think. Feelings are what makes you human."
I shrugged, "Well maybe I don't want to be human."
"Then what do you want to be?"
Dead. . .or with mom. I don't know if being with mom makes me any less human, but I guess what they're doing to her is dehumanizing. Keeping her trapped in a small room without any connection with the outside world, so maybe if I am with her, I will be less human too.
I shook my head, "Stop asking so many questions." I snapped, "I've known you less than six hours and you're questioning me like we're best friends. I'm okay, thanks for checking on me, now please leave me the hell alone." I said sarcastically yet pleadingly.
Eden held her arms up in surrender, "I'll leave you alone then." she sighed in defeat, "But I'm here if you ever need someone to talk too, Lila." she said before turning on her heel and slowly exiting the amenities.
I tried not to let her see how shocked I was right now. Lila, she actually called me Lila. She's the only one who actually has, everyone else calls me 'Lilac' or stupid purple related nicknames, but she didn't.
Even my own maid refuses, and my father.
If the circumstances weren't so dreadful right now, I'd offer her a smile. The faintest smile, but all the questions she keeps asking is making me feel claustrophobic and I just want to go back to the cafeteria and act like nothing happened.
"I won't."
***
I pulled into my driveway, hopping out of the car before locking it, Blaire following closely behind me as we entered through my grand front door.
Blaire comes over almost every Monday after school, we don't go shopping or anything, we genuinely spend the time studying and doing homework, or if we have none of that—like today—then we just hang out for a few hours until I drive her home.
We walked up my stairway, taking a short turn to the left where a platform begun before continuing further up the stairs, taking us to the third floor.
My room was the first door on the right.
We entered and I gave my room a one over before entering entirely.
My room was nice. If I could bare color and décor, it'd be a lot nicer. But it's the definition of plain and white.
My walls were a crisp white, my bed frame which was on the far left wall, was white as well as my duvet and many unnecessary pillows and cushions. On the wall opposite my door—where I am currently standing—were two French doors that led out onto my balcony, giving me a clear view of the lake if you stand to the far left and a perfect view of the Pinetree filled forest to the right.
On the right of my double doors, was my vanity which was one of those typical ones with the lights surrounding the perimeter of the mirror and it had a few drawers beneath it along with a white faux leather stool, but the surface of the vanity was white and black marble.
Lastly, to the right of my door—the opposite wall from my bed—was my two doors, one is for my bathroom and the other for my closet.
On the opposite side of the double doors, I have a plain desk, where my laptop and stacked text books live as well as my swirly computer chair and a corkboard with a few pictures of me and mom, Miles and I and the occasional one of Blaire as well.
Other than that, my walls are pretty much bare, but I have windows anywhere anyways, covered by sheer white curtains.
I don't have a television either, you'd think I would considering my wealth, but father claims that it would be a distraction to my studies, plus I don't have an interest in any movies or TV series because unlike most adolescents, I've never been allowed or had the opportunity too, other than two or three times.
I've seen a few nameless movies with Miles because his dad and mine were always out of town, so the baby-sitter would put them on for us.
I never found them interesting though. I hated how unrealistic they were. Cinderella loses a glass slipper and awaits the prince to return it to her and sweep her off her feet, taking her away from all her worst nightmares.
It's full of stereotypes, it degrades women and it's completely impractical.
Miles always found more interest in them then I did. I guess I am the realist out of the two of us, he's the dreamer.
But, I guess he's lucky. He's always been allowed to dream. I've always been told wrong from right, I know dad is just trying to look out for me, but it'd be fun to learn from my own mistakes, rather than someone else just telling me how it is.
Even in my actual dreams, dad always pops in at some point and takes the wheel, taking a sharp turn into nightmare land.
I recall when I was five, I was playing with a new Barbie my mom bought me and my father came in and snatched it out of my hands, he said that playing with dolls was only going to result in me being treated like one.
After that I think he threw it in the trash. I don't know, I was too busy crying whilst my mom sipped on her red wine.
"Hello?" Blaire's girlish voice sounded.
I blinked rapidly, "What?"
She sat down on my neatly made bed, "I asked if you're excited for the game coming up?"
I shrugged, "I guess?" I replied, "I don't really care."
She snorted, kicking her shoes off, "But we're having a bonfire like we always do." she whined, "It's like our tradition, you should be excited."
I placed my purse on my vanity before unbuckling my heels and sliding them off, "It won't be exciting." I claimed, "Hale will probably invite Eden just to piss me off."
Blaire brushed her bangs out of her warm brown eyes, "I really don't like that girl."
"Me neither." I scoffed, the events of today rushing through my head at a fast pace.
Her lips parted into a devilish grin as she patted the spare space next to her on the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows, seating myself down next to her.
"You're threatened by her, correct?"
I shook my head, "No."
She raised an eyebrow, "Lils, if this is going to work, I'm going to need you to be honest."
I sighed, "Fine."
"Fine what?"
I glared at her, "I tell you what to do, it isn't the other way around."
Blaire stared at me blankly, "Trust me."
I swallowed all my pride, literally, "Fine, I'm threatened by her."
"I have a plan to knock her down a few levels on the social hierarchy." she explained, "But It'll only work on one condition."
My heart raced. I was getting excited. I can't wait to show this girl what she has coming. It'll be like pouring a bucket of karma over her head, it'll be utterly satisfying.
"What condition is that?"
Blaire smirked like a Cheshire cat. She really is a mini-me, even her expressions are a mirror of mine.
"Lakyn Westbrook."
***
Heyyyyy ♡
I hope you liked this chapter! Please let me know what you thought of it and what you think of Lila now you're starting to learn more about here.
Anyways I'm truly having such a great time with this book, so see you really soon. Byeee x