Something Wicked - By Lesley Anne Cowan Page 0,46

… Something exact.”

I so want to tell her. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I know it will make everything worse. “I can’t. You can’t ask me like that. It’s just shit. It’s everything. I don’t know. This shit, here. All of it. I’m just angry.”

“Well, you need to chill,” my mom warns, starting to cry. She walks past me and into the kitchen. I don’t know what’s happening with her and Scott, but she’s completely unravelling. “I can’t live like this.”

“You can’t? You can’t live like this? Is every fucking thing about you?” I shout behind her, but she turns on the tap and drowns me out.

Part of me feels bad for being so mean to her. A baby isn’t the end of the world. And I know my anger is more than just about the baby. It’s not her fault that I’m a totally miserable human being. Not entirely, anyway. But the more miserable I am, the more angry I get and the more cruel I am to her.

She doesn’t talk to me the rest of the day, which makes me feel totally guilty, as usual. Even though I don’t know what for. She’s my mom. She’s supposed to take my crap. Then, after a bit of time has passed, I try to think more about her question. Why am I so mad? And I just don’t know. I just am. Always have been.

Thirty-Six

The party on Friday night is at some girl’s house. I’m with my friends Ally, Jess, Jasmyn, Liz, and Shayla. I’m ready to get wrecked out of my mind. Around midnight, we are all chillin’ in the living room when I decide to go to the kitchen to get some more vodka. When I’m there, minding my own business, this guy’s little sister I barely know gets all up in my face like she wants to rush me. She’s talking about Fortune being her boyfriend and how I’m a “skank.” She’s a little taller than me, a little fatter, and has these pathetic cornrows, and I’m sure she thinks she’s going to kick my ass. But what she doesn’t know is that I feel like killing someone right now and that it takes me zero to ten to lose it, and by the time her adrenalin gets to six, she’ll be on the floor. Which is what happens before any of the skank’s friends can even cross the room and come to her rescue. It wasn’t even that hard. Just a few pushes and she was down.

Before I can do any more damage, Jasmyn and Ally have appeared at my side to shout shit at the girl’s friends, who are shouting back. It’s all so crazy.

“Let’s go,” I command, and turn, knowing my girls will have my back as we go down the hallway and leave through the front door.

It ruins our night. Ally, Shayla, Jasmyn, and I hang out at Coffee Time to sober up, while the others go home.We sit at the table near the back, by the toilet, where the owner lets people smoke late at night. The place is full of scum and drunks and crazies, so we’re actually welcomed in comparison. Shayla and Ally both have coffees while I just sit there keeping to myself. They know it takes me some time to come down from fighting and they won’t leave me till I’m okay. I sit there half listening to their conversation as I fiddle with my lip, ’cause the bitch somehow got a punch in. I can feel it swelling, and when I suck hard on it I can taste the blood.

“She might charge you,” Jasmyn says, who has new-found respect for me now that she’s seen me lose it on someone.

I ignore her ’cause I don’t feel like talking. Instead, I light a cigarette.

“No she won’t,” Ally answers for me. “We know her brother. He’s got a grow op in their basement. She can’t say anything and she knows it.”

“I’m not that stupid,” I add. It’s important you figure this shit out before you throw the first punch, otherwise you’ll get charged.

“Actually, the skank’s brother will probably beat her more when he finds out it was Mel,” Shayla adds, laughing.

“What about her friends?” Jasmyn asks.

“They’re nothing,” Shayla dismisses. “They won’t even bother. They know who Mel’s friends are.”

I keep my eyes on my burning cigarette during the whole conversation. I don’t know why this had to happen tonight. It’s the last thing I need. It

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