Montana and Natasha were inseparable. Until the day they weren't.
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Montana Belmonte-Rowe sees her acceptance into Harvard as a fresh start. Still haunted by the tragic death of...
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featuring:
→ asami zdrenka as jenna stanley
CHAPTER SIX
I DON'T CARE IF IT HURTS
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MY MOTHERS HAVE TAUGHT ME WELL. Besides teaching me plenty of stuff regarding the environment, they have also taught me to support and empower my sisters—every person who say they're a woman, regardless of their anatomy—because the rest of the world does enough to put us down and we want and need to stand where they do. Not above them, but next to them.
They have also taught me not to call other women a bitch, or utter the damned C word. I've slipped a few times, having called other girls bitches, especially during my senior year because I was an utter mess and took it out on everyone, but the C word? Never. With that being said, I've been trying to keep it together and pretend I'm not at all bothered by Natasha's presence at the college of my dreams, as she got here before I did; what bothers me about this whole situation is how she's just playing me and mocking me in front of all these people.
You never really get over high school, because it's the same thing over and over again during the rest of your life. You go to college, and discover it's exactly like high school, except the coffee is cheaper, you're probably living with other people the same age as you and you can finish your exams whenever you want to go cry in the bathroom. You enter your adult life, and discover there are cliques in your office and mean people who don't let you sit with them at lunch a la Mean Girls.
This is just to say Natasha hasn't changed a single bit. She was tolerable back then, or so I thought, because she was my best friend and I was in a safe zone, shielded from any attacks coming my way; here, she's back on top, surrounded by a bunch of people she doesn't feel the need to please, but she's still determined to come out victorious, no matter who she has to knock aside.
Back to the bitch thing, complete with a scratching frame sound and everything falling still. I stare at Natasha, and she either smiles or smirks at me, I can't really tell, with an arm swung around Jeremy's waist; I stare at her and my mind is screaming bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch, which is something I never thought I'd call her, but people don't like being played with. I'm no exception to that.
