CH. III
It takes me an hour to get to and from school, but I don’t mind. I like the time away from all the people and to just be able to concentrate on the music pumping from my headphones. After crossing the first street that put me officially off school grounds, I whipped out a cigarette –I smoked Cloves– and lit it with my new Zippo lighter. It was black with red, gothic font that read, “Yeah, I have issues.” As I crossed the second light and my iPod shuffled to the Misfits’ Dig Up Her Bones, I officially started to zone out.
* * *
I’d smoked through four cigarettes by the time I got to the place I was supposed to call home; I didn’t even remember the walk I’d so been completely zoned out. I hadn’t thought at all about my idiotic classmates, fucked-up teachers, my detentions or the history paper that was due next week. But as soon as the four-story, Victorian style house my mom’s current lover lived in –and therefore her and me as well– came into view, I was flung back into reality. I snubbed out my fourth cig and went to the garage to spray myself down with Febreeze. Mom and her lover, Kyle, were already on my ass enough about the way I dress, my makeup, musical taste, piercings, lack of friends, etc., that I didn’t need them on my case about smoking too.
As I was dousing myself in lavender scent I saw that there weren’t any cars in the driveway. I was home alone. A gigantic smile crossed my face and I raced in the house and down to the basement. I changed into my exercise clothes, hopped on the treadmill and ran off calories for three hours, until I heard a car pull in the driveway. Then I grabbed my stuff and bolted to my room.
* * *
I had installed numerous locks on my room, on the inside and outside of the door, locking all the inside ones as I ran into my attic bedroom (the only cool thing about this house) sweat dripping down me like their was a rain cloud over my head. I stripped off all my clothes and flopped on my bed, breathing heavily.
I need to weigh myself, I thought. I looked at my bathroom door, on the other side of which contained my scale. It looked so far away and I didn’t want to move. So instead, I picked up my iPhone and pressed speed-dial #3.
“Hello, my darling,” his silky-smooth voice greeted me, sending gleeful shivers down my spine.
“Hey Draven. I’ve missed you so much; I can’t wait to see you tonight,” I said. I wanted the words to come out slow and sexy, but they ended up sounding rushed and hoarse, as I was still breathing hard. Draven chuckled.
“I miss you, too. Did you just finish exercising?”
“Mhm,” I replied, reaching for a water from my mini-fridge.
“What are you down to?” He asked, referring to my weight.
“I don’t know. I haven’t weighed myself yet. But I’m thinner since you last saw me. I’m so excited to show you tonight.
“I’m glad. And I think you’re really going to like the place I found here. It’s an apartment, but it also looks somewhat loft-like. Its very artsy.”
“I can’t wait to see it. We’re still on for midnight, right?”
“Of course, my darling. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, D. Aw, shit, I gotta go. My mom’s pounding on my door. See you tonight!” Draven said goodbye and I hung up, throwing on my black silk robe. I unlocked numerous locks and opened my door to my mother, forever clad in high-heels, fancy dresses, diamond earrings and way too much foundation.
“Yeah?” I asked, my head the only thing sticking outside my room.
“How was your first day?” She smiled at me. Jeez, could her smile be any faker?
“It was fine.”
“Good. We’re going to George’s for dinner, so please wear something nice.”
“I hate that place. Go without me.” I tried to close the door but she stuck her foot in the doorway. Kyle was the owner of a restaurant named George’s, named after his dad or something. It was really high-class and fancy and they loved going there. Obviously I hated it; the cheapest thing on the menu was $35 and disgusting, along with the rest of the menu.
“You are coming with us. The Florence’s are coming; they are friends of Kyle’s and their son is just a year older than you and is excited to meet you. He goes to your school. They are very nice. I told them all about you.”
“Your version of me, or my version of me?” I asked coldly, arching my eyebrow.
“Would you just try to be reasonable, Taryn? Josh is a very nice boy, and frankly, that age difference between you and Draven worries me severely.”
“No, it doesn’t. You just want me to turn into a clone like you. Well, not gonna happen.” I slammed the door in her face. I grabbed my iPhone again.
D-
mom is trying to hook me up with a clone in khaki pants. AGAIN.
<3 –T
T-
George’s again?
<3 –D
D-
yea. i just want to spend the rest of today not doing my homework and laying in bed listening to music until midnight. but no, instead I have to spend it with stupid people as a stupid restaurant while they try to push stupid food down my throat
<3 –T
T-
you can get thru it. be strong, baby. i love you.
<3 –D
D-
I love you too
<3 –T
Draven’s response didn’t make me feel better. I wanted to be with him, cradled in his arms until he had me pose while he took pictures of me. Ever photo session he did with me I was thinner. It was amazing to look at the difference in all the pictures. Draven always kept them all over his place. Another knock on my door. WHAT NOW?!
“Taryn, we’re leaving in one hour. Please make yourself presentable,” Mom said through the door. I threw my pillow again the door. She wanted presentable? Fuck that.
* * *
One hour later my mom was banging on my door; I could hear Kyle impatiently tapping his foot.
“I’m coming, damn it!” I screamed.
“Taryn! Watch your language!” Mom screamed back.
Finally I opened my door, a smug grin on my face as my mom and Kyle took in my outfit. My hair was spiked into a short mohawk and then spiked out to the sides. I was wearing a plain black dress with a studded belt wrapped around my tiny waist, spiderweb fishnet stockings with matching arm-fishnets, and spiked and studded boots that came half-way up my calf. I had a spiked collar and my most prized possession, my necklace from Draven, around my neck, silver spider earrings hanging from my ears, black lipstick, silver spiked snakebites, a large silver nose-ring and tongue ring, and my eyes were extra-thickly lined in eyeliner.
“Lord Almighty,” Kyle said when he saw me. “How are we supposed to be seen in public with this… this… this fiasco, Carol?” Fiasco? That’s a new one. I didn’t know Kyle’s vocabulary was that large.
“I told her to dress presentably,” mom replied to Kyle. She sighed. “She never listens. But we don’t have time for her to change. We’ll just say she’s going through a phase. It’ll be fine, dear,” Mom patted Kyle shoulder. He glared at me, then took my mom’s arm and walked downstairs with her. I grabbed a plain black jacket and my smaller, black and silver messenger bag and follow behind them.
* * *
“Welcome to hell, Taryn,” I whispered to myself as we arrived as George’s.
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