Master Prick

Chapter 5

"Please tell me you're joking." As soon as I pronounce these words, I immediately take a large sip of my Coke, hoping that it'll help me to calm down for at least a minute. Unfortunately, I realize almost immediately that Audrey is being serious. She believes there's some spark between Jack and me. That's absurd!

"Do I look like I'm joking?" she asks, throwing a sideways glance at me and crossing her arms. Still, I can't take her seriously. Not only is her pose ridiculous, but her assumption is, too. Why the hell would I ever want to date her brother? Sometimes, I believe she has gone nuts.

"Do you really think there's chemistry between me and Jack? Do you think he even cares about me anymore? He's taken, Audrey." I state the obvious because I'm coward enough not to tell her openly and in an honest manner that I wish I could knock him down a peg and smash his skull.

I can't even mention the promise we made that ended up being meaningless to the point that he broke it like an old bottle of beer. I need to think of something else right now, or else I might puke.

"I don't want to talk or hear about him anymore. Period."

***

Easier said than done.

Even though I unfollowed him on all social media ages ago, this doesn't mean that I'm no longer up to date on what he does. Audrey often sends me screenshots of the bullshit he blurts out on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and so on via direct message.

Tonight, unfortunately, is no exception.

First of all, she has just shared that he no longer follows or hangs around with Casey. For some reason, I'm feeling sorry for her although I don't like her. She must be at least the ninetieth girl who has been used by that jerk and is not going to be the last in his fucking list.

On second hand, he must've taken advantage of his sister's chatter to dig down even deeper to find something else to use against me. But this time, he really stooped to a new level of low.

He basically accused me of doing drugs on social media! All while sharing a picture of me and Alaina smoking weed at the Disaster Party (I know, I wish I wouldn't be able to talk about it anymore, but because of that son of a bitch the wound is open again).

My followers, which have never been that high, to be fair, are quickly dropping all while dislikes and hate comments are skyrocketing. Other people would take it as a tragedy, but this is a good reason for me to seize an opportunity.

I decide to shut down all of my accounts. If haters want to throw shit at me, they have to find me and vomit their bullshit in front of me, face to face, if they have some guts. I highly doubt they are since they're all hiding behind an Instagram or Twitter account.

Thank God it all happened. Now I can really see people's true colors, starting from Jack Leer.

The others can just go and fuck off. As of him, I want him dead. If he can't get rid of his bad habits, then he'll have to make sure to never cross paths with me again.

***

"What the heck is the problem is with him!" exclaims Alaina, out of rage from what Audrey is telling us about Jack's shenanigans. The fact that the hype over the weed case doesn't seem to die down easily is making things worse not only for myself, but for the entire group.

"He thinks he's high and mighty, but, trust me, he's in for a bad surprise. He'll just have to see it for himself," I state, not even caring whether he'll get me sent to rehab for his bullshit.

"He can't send you to court for smoking weed just once! He's talking as if you failed a drug test multiple times," says Audrey. "But the truth is, I think you're being paranoid. He won't denounce you, not under my watch. Trust me."

I don't know what's scarier to me right now, trusting Audrey on Jack not snitching on me about that occasional drug consume or the drug test itself.

***

Perfect. As if things aren't bad enough, my siblings think that snitching and asking me unnecessary questions is a good idea. They may get me kicked out of the house or, worse, sent to jail for smoking once. I haven't touched weed after since. It's not such a big deal. As I said other times, it's legal here.

Yet, I can't shake this feeling that my life is going downward from now on. First that scandal at the Disaster Party, then what?

As I realize that there might be no more room for me in this house, I start packing my stuff after writing a note that I'll leave on the kitchen table so that the others will read it at dinner, hopefully after I'm gone. I don't want to cause them any more trouble even after all this time.

If I want to turn tables, then now it's time to do so.

When I'm done, I read the letter aloud one last time before leaving it at the kitchen counter and going back to my room without looking back, not even once.

“Dear Mom, Dad, Micah, Aalaiyah and Deriyah, if you read this letter, this means that I'm on my way out of this house, possibly for good.

I've disappointed you all in every possible way and beyond repair. From sneaking to parties to underage drinking and smoking pot, I've definitely passed the limit. If I stay, I'll only make things even worse.

This is why, before you come up with anything, I'm sharing my ultimate decision with you. I can't be a burden to you anymore. I don't want you to pick my broken pieces. I don't want you to try to fix me. There's no excuse for what I did for almost twenty-two years, and now it's time I face the consequences and pay.

Thank you for bearing with me. I hope you'll live better lives without me around.

Cheers, P„

I take my luggage and start throwing it all out of the window. Then, I tidy up, turn the light off and finally leave the house, jumping off the window, of course.

I recollect myself for a minute and start walking down the street, dragging the black bags where I stuffed what I could bring with me and praying that I won't cross paths with the Devil in person.

Okay. I should take it back. He found me and is going to do whatever is in his power to mortify me further. I'm not ready to go down, not yet.

"I can't find you on social media, Pallies," he retorts, much to my anger. "I'd have blocked you if you hadn't already deleted your accounts."

"Shut the fuck up!" I hiss, clenching my fists. I really want to punch him. Don't ask me why, I just want to do it.

"Or what?" He provokes me, not realizing that his fucking mouth is getting him into trouble. In fact, I slam my fist straight on his nose to the point that blood could burst out of it.

"This is for your tirade on me smoking pot. Now, denounce me if you dare."

As the perfect son of a bitch he is, he immediately pulls his phone out of his pocket to call the cops on me.

I run away before they can even find me. Shame on him for making the police waste their precious time on his pointless tantrum.

This is just the beginning.