She's Bad News

Chapter 1

I didn't know what was worse: the massive hanger over from last night's encounter at Trevor's party, or the scolding I've receive from my mother once I decided to get out of bed. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I rolled out of bed and held onto my aching temple.

"God that was one too many margaritas," I muttered to myself before throwing my bedroom door open. Slowly tiptoeing down the hall, I prayed I wouldn't wake my mother up as I entered the bathroom and turned on the water making it icy cold.

Splashing some life into my face, I stared at my reflection. My bloodshot eyes and tangled mass of hair was evidence that last night was a wild one. I ran a damp hand through my tangled hair debating whether I should just cut it before opening the medicine cabinet.

Most of the space that was taken in the medicine cabinet was a lot of the crap that mom had bought online with the intention to use it, never actually did because my rich stepfather would buy her something to forget all about the 'as seen on TV' items'. I'd usually either pawn them, use the myself or give it away to what little friends I had.

I was confused when I couldn't find the Advil that was always placed on the third shelf. Closing the cabinet, I continued to search the luxurious bathroom to no avail. Swinging open the door, I continued my journey down the stairs in search for a Catalina, our weekend maid. Maybe she could come up with a lie for me while I made a quick run to the drugstore.

The smell of scrambled eggs and green tea flared my nostrils as I made it down the stairs. Making a quick run to the kitchen my body suddenly halted when I noticed something from the corner of my eye. It was a woman who looked to young and beautiful to be hoarding a seventeen-year-old daughter. With long strawberry, blonde hair cascading down her back and crystal green eyes that hardened, I couldn't help but notice how she kind of looked like me. The only difference was that she was petite while I was tall and lanky.

Men loved girls like her. Girls that weren't as tall and were able to tower over. She was the vain of my existence. A woman I once loved as my own, but as the months went by, slowly started to hate her. She watched me with a type of hate that I was happy to return. I wasn't the perfect daughter she dreamt of since her new life. I was rebellious. I was a nuisance.

I was the daughter that reminded her of her old life. The old like she's been wanting to store up the attic the day she had gotten remarried. The funny thing was that I wasn't going anywhere.

Whether she liked it or not.

I rummaged through the cupboard for a cup that I had bought for 99 cents. I really didn't want to drink or eat fancy while I lived here. Though every time I tried to use my own things, they'd all disappear by morning. Growing agitated, I settled for a glass of fine china and filled it up with tap water. I could feel eyes on me as I shut off the water.

I turned around to face my mother. We went on a staring match for what seemed like a decade never looking away. My mother broke eye contact first turning her attention towards the window. I swear it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I loathed the quiet nowadays. It just reminded me how truly alone I was in this world since my father's death.

My mother averted her gaze from the window and looked at me with so much hatred and annoyance, I was surprised I hadn't been caught on fire by the look. A look I knew was only reserved for me.

"Were you at Trevor Dawson's party last night?"

No beating around the bush I guess. "Yes, I was," I answered truthfully.

My mother took a deep breath and counted to ten before continuing. "Didn't I tell you that you couldn't speak to that sorry excuse of a boy?"

"Funny. You used to adore that sorry excuse of a boy before you married money," I quickly retorted.

The glare I received for that comment was one of the many glares I fed off. Her remarriage was always a touchy subject. Something I loved to bring up any chance I got. She knew damn well that I was right about her only marrying Philip for the money he forked out. He wasn't as rich as Bill Gates or Donald Trump, but he was rich enough for mother to throw away a fifteen-year marriage with a man I always thought she loved.

"I married Philip because I love him."

"Love?" I scoffed. "You wouldn't know love if it hit you upside the head with a brick. You're just like all those Botox-loving women on the reality TV shows. You all just want money and nothing more. Wasn't dad's love enough?"

I didn't wait for an answer as I stormed out of the kitchen, leaving the glass of water behind. This conversation killed the hanger over. Right now, I was angry--livid even. I couldn't believe she threw the 'because I love him' card right at my face.

I could remember the whole ordeal like it was yesterday when my mother announced that she wanted a divorce from my father. She said the love just wasn't there anymore and had found someone who understood her on another level. She just didn't like living from paycheck to paycheck and wanted someone else to support her while she lived lavishly.

Sighing, I walked over to the nightstand and whipped out my flip phone. Philip offered me the newest technology but I declined in a nasty way. I didn't want anything from him. Not pity present, nothing. It's been quite a while since I lived here and I haven't even unpacked yet. Some of my clothes were still tucked away in a box collecting dust.

There was one new message and two missed calls. The missed calls were from Annabel while the text message was from Trevor. Opening the message, I smiled as I read what he typed:

Trevor: Wild night last night huh? Some time tonight? :)

I smiled before typing a quick reply. Trevor had been my boyfriend since freshmen year. He was two years older than me which meant he did a lot of things I couldn't do until I was of age. My mother didn't like him at first but soon warmed up to the idea of him. As long as I was on the pill and used condoms, it was okay for him to date me.

On my fifteenth birthday, I lost my virginity to him. When he it came to Trevor, he was my first everything. He loved the fact that I was so innocent and so new to his world of drugs. I wasn't one to dabble on things he sold like cocaine and heroin. The only things I did was smoke the occasional cigarette and weed when I was feeling it. I drank to my heart's content and always snuck into Phil's liquor cabinet when I snuck Trevor over from time to time.

Last night was the first night that I've seen Trevor in over a month and I missed him. I was entitled to see him to my heart's content whether mother liked him or not because I love him. Setting my phone down, I opened the top drawer and moved some of my underwear out of the way as I picked up the ring. Slipping it on my right hand, I admired the ring in all its glory.

Trevor gave it to me last night in his stupor state, promising to marry me once I tired eighteen. I'd pack up and we'd both run away to Vegas to make it happen. The ring felt so right on my finger. It was the perfect fit. I knew it wasn't as fancy as the other promise rings, but Trevor had bought it out of love and probably what he had left in the bank.

Taking the ring off and placing it in my drawer, I used my underwear's as a cover up before grabbing a towel. I smelled like sweat, beer and desperation. A combination of smells I was all too familiar with. Planning on calling Annabel later, I headed to the bathroom that was jointed with my bedroom. Of course, my bathroom was much more elegant than the one I was used to back at home. But I was only one person; what could I do with a space so big?

After my quick shower, I brushed the taste of liquor and nostalgic memories out of my mouth before running a hand through my hair. I made a mental note of looking for hairstylists within my price range as I exited the bathroom. The first thing that caught my eye was a box that was perched on my bed. Taking a step toward it, I noticed a small piece of paper that was folded on top of the box. Retrieving the note, I immediately recognized my mother's sophisticated handwriting:

Wear this to your father's party tonight.

Opening the lid and unwrapping the paper, I realized that it was just another dress I'd wear once and never wear it again. Placing the paper back on the dress and the lid on top of the box, I did the only reasonable thing I could.

I chucked the box across the room and watched it slide to a halt in front of my mother's perfectly manicured feet.

,"broadcasterW