Oh My...

17.) Change

I felt stupid.

More than humiliated, more than betrayed, and more than heartbroken. I felt stupid because I've been through this type of shit before--boys using me, making a fool out of me--and I still allow it to keep happening.

Was I wrong for thinking Marshall was different? Deep down, I still genuinely believed he was a good person. I just....why did I believe this would all be different? I should of stayed away after him and Dashaun drove away and ditched me on the first night; that should of been my first red flag. I should of told them to fuck off after that. But, I didn't. And now I'm here feeling like the world's biggest idiot.

Alexander walked me to my front door. I didn't speak for the entire trip, even though Alexander tried again and again to get my opinion on what happened, or to tell him who Marshall was to me, or what was the story about my beef with his girl.

I ignored every question, brushing off the fact that it was incredibly rude of me. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that I didn't want to open up to him? I had to of told him at least a dozen times.

When we reached my house, he faced me, sheepishly smiling with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "So, I guess this is it?"

I smiled at him. "Thank you for everything. Sorry you had to see that earlier-"

"It's no problem. Really."

We stood in an awkward silence for a few moments after that. I was about to tell him goodbye when he said: "Do you wanna chill sometime? We could smoke."

I stared at him, biting the inside of my cheek. Alexander did truly seem like a nice guy, but he was just...annoying. Still, the hopeful look he was giving me kept a rejection stuck in my throat, and now that Marshall was out of the picture, I had no friends. I sighed. "Yeah, sure."

Alexander grinned. "Sweet! What're you doing tomorrow?"

I shrugged. He told me he could come over around six tomorrow, and I told him that was fine. Hugging me goodbye, he walked down the dark road.

Inside the house, Claire was cooking dinner. I walked in the kitchen and peered over her shoulder. "Are you making an omelette?" I asked, astounded. Claire didn't look up from mixing eggs and milk together in a white bowl. "Omelettes are breakfast foods. It's dinner time."

"Yeah well, we don't exactly have a huge selection. Speaking of which, did you get the things I told you to get?" She turned to scan me, pulling her eyebrows together in confusion when she realized I had nothing on me.

"Yes, I actually did."

"Then where is it?"

"I used it as a weapon."

Claire blinked at me. Once. Twice. "Are you always this stupid?"

"Okay so, remember how I got in a fight with those random bitches my first night and that's why I didn't come home? Well, I saw one of them while walking home, and I wasn't not going to fuck her face up." I ran my fingers through my hair.

Claire shook her head. "Your mom has a shitty temper to," she said as a matter of fact. I perked up an eyebrow, surprised that she wasn't scolding me. "I never got it. Live and let live, that's how I look at it. I mean really, what did you get out of beating that girl up?"

"Satisfaction." I answered without hesitation. "Fuck her. I hope she dies."

Claire put down the bowl and placed her hands on her hips, staring at me in an I'm your mom and you have to tell me what's up kind of way. Which was weird, considering that she wasn't my mom. "I feel like there's something you're not telling me."