Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before (Girlxgirl)

Chapter # 35

I felt tense and awkward in every possible way. My hair looked too done up and my dress, although floor length seemed too revealing, too risqué. Drawing my arms around myself, I looked closer in the mirror.

I didn't look different, and that upset me. It made me sort of distressed. On the outside my face wore no expression. I had become completely stoic these past days.

School was all a blur and while I knew for a fact that I would be graduating, I still didn't feel very grown up. I felt small and childish, as if I was playing dress up.

My heels seemed too big and clunky. My makeup looked ridiculously cheap and even started to feel cheap, although I knew it was far from that.

There was a knock on my door and I called out that it was open, although Seth knew that. There was no lock. He opened the door and peeked in. He wore his best suit.

He looked much more grown up than I felt. I wondered how that could happen. We were twins for goodness sake. Shouldn't we look the same age? He came in and sat on my bed, looking at me thoughtfully.

"Are you ready to do this?" He asked. I shrugged and looked at the floor. At my discarded pajamas. I should pick those up. I had been meaning to, but I had kept putting it off. Blaming it on getting dressed and getting ready and doing my hair and matching my earings and necklace to my silly dress and finding a pair of heels to go with everything else.

It was all too much.

"I hate having to do this." I whispered. I wasn't sure if Seth heard me or not. I was leaning more towards not since he didn't respond. "This is a shit situation." He said suddenly.

"A mother shouldn't have to bury her young." I raised my eyebrows at him. "Well, yeah. It's been pretty shit since she fell into the coma. Where the fuck were you?"

He shot me a look. "You've certainly turned up the bitchiness." He snapped. I tore my eyes away from him as they started to tear up.

"You don't get the right to say that to me." I muttered. He laughed. "Right, but you get to tell me to shove it up my ass, right?" I turned.

"Sorry, okay? I'm just trying to be an actual human being like everybody wants me to be, but it gets a little hard when everyone keeps telling me I'm not okay, when I know good and damn well that I'm not all by myself. It's like being reminded that you don't have two hands right after a hand gets chopped off. It's fucking obvious because it's hurting and bleeding and just lying there on the ground and you're staring at it and everyone keeps coming up and mentioning it and you fucking know already."

"That gives you no right to be rude, Taylor."

"I don't give a fuck if I'm rude, Seth! I'm fucking hurting! Why don't you come and talk to me after your girlfriend fucking dies! Then we'll see who's being rude!" I shouted at him.

He held up his hands. "Fine, yeah sorry. Sorry I don't know exactly what you're going through. I hope you don't act like this at the funeral."

I was going to yell at him when my door opened and I turned. My mother stood in her signature black business suit looking as professional as always.

She was looking at me up and down in distaste.

I hated her. I fucking hated her. "Funeral, huh? For that gay girl who died? How tragic."

"Her name's Talia." I said through my teeth. She didn't even acknowledge me. She just went on with what she wanted to say. What she so clearly came back here to say.

"I have a bone to pick with you. The last time I saw you, girl, was when you ran out of my house and got into the car I provided for you and spent money and ran up the bill on the credit card I gave you and when you returned, you didn't think twice about all of those expenses."