I’m a bitch. Everyone knows that. But believe it or not, nobody’s every called me that, at least not to my face. Not until now.
I kind of admire Hallie for saying it. She takes no plum from anyone. Not like the other losers.
So I’m guessing all you kind-hearted people out there are wondering what it feels like to be me.
Because you’ve never had your blood boil with rage. Never found the slightest pinch of satisfaction in the misery of someone you can’t stand. Never said anything you regretted later. Yeah, right. I get it. You’re a bit of an equestrian. You like your horses, and you like them high.
But back to me. What is it like to be me, you ask?
Ok, I’ll be honest with you. The mornings are plummy. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t wake up being angry at the world. I wake up with the world being angry at me. It makes me feel sick, having to face them all. And that’s not even the worst of it.
The longer I’m awake, the more it starts coming back to me. With each second.
That plumming summer.
I won’t say it was all perfect before then, because it wasn’t. Far from it. But then I met Antoine, and suddenly the world seemed different.
I didn’t want to let him in, but he snuck in anyway. The point is I felt something, as much as I tried not to. The things everyone hates about me, he didn’t seem to mind. So I thought everything was going to fall into place from then on.
I thought that he was going to fix me.
Wow, what an idiot I was.
It’s been three months now. I need to stop thinking about it. I still have to drag myself out of bed every day. And so I do.
But I don’t stop thinking about it.
I could probably make peace with what he did to me. After all, I only knew him for what, a week or so? So he ripped my heart out and chewed it up. Plum happens.
What I can’t get over is that none of them said or did anything when it happened. Not that day, or the one after that, or those that followed. Not Hallie, not Vito, not even our little holier-than-you Carly. All she did ask me was if I actually had woohoo. She was obviously judging me. Not something she’d do, because she can do no wrong…
Of course, they all made sure to constantly make a huge deal out of Vito’s new boyfriend. I can’t count the number of times he recounted their first kiss in detail, with Carly cheering him on. And what did I get? Not even an are you ok. At least a simple sorry he turned out to be a jerk would have been nice.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Nobody cries for you when you’re a bitch.
Do I like what I see in the mirror each morning? Not particularly, no. Funnily enough though, I don’t usually see the bitch at first. I see a scared little girl.
It’s pathetic, I know. But luckily it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.
I think of it as war paint. A little bit of mascara here, to forget about a brother who never stood up for his sister. Well, not this sister, that is. He’d do anything for his other, far more morally superior sister.
The oh-so-kind sister, who always does everything right, helps every single nobody, but doesn’t care that her older sister is hurting. What did she say to her precious Vito on the first day of school? That he doesn’t want to be as bad as me, or something?
That’s ok though. Nothing a little bit of concealer can’t hide. A touch of blusher there, so that it looks like I didn’t have a sleepless night.
And now Hallie. At least she had the decency not to get on the Louis and Vito gush train in front of me, but she didn’t exactly do anything to help. She just did what she always does, pretending like what we do has nothing to do with her… Well I guess she’s had her input now.
Since I’m now officially a bitch, I suppose I could go a bit crazier with the lipstick. I mean, I already dyed my hair last night. I might as well go all out, right?
With the right outfit to complete it all, she’s finally coming to life. The you-know-what in the mirror.
As for me, well, I think I’m finally ready to venture out of the room to face them. It’s just another day.
I’ll give them the bitch they want.