Chapter 13: Sloppy pizza makes everything better

Chapter 13

“I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” I repeated as Christy walked around my room with her hands clenched into fists. I sobbed into my pillow; my eyes now dry as Christy sighed, then unclenched her fists as she looked at me with a sad smile covering her lips. I wanted to sob even more because that smile meant it’s over. Cyrus and I, whatever we had- if we even had anything, was over. It was gone. Because of Miranda and him. What if what she said was true? What if they were secretly dating and Cyrus was just stringing me along?

“You should get home…” I said, sniffling as I sat up. She shook her head no.

“No, I’m not leaving.” She said, cracking her knuckles once more.

“Why not?” I asked. I just wanted to be alone.

“Because I’ll just drive to that party and snap his neck like a Popsicle stick and Miranda… oh Miranda. She wouldn’t even feel the pain I’d inflict on her, I’d just rip her teeth out one by one, breaking every individual bone in her body as she screams for mercy.” Christy explained as I stared at her wide eyed. Maybe’s it’s best if she stays here; for everyone’s safety. Not that I’d mind them getting hurt; not after they’ve hurt me. I felt my heart pang in my chest as the images of them kissing flashed in my mind.

__ Flashback __

“You’re interrupting something, obviously.” Miranda spat as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and Cyrus laid his head in the crook of her neck. I just stood there, silent. She shot me one last glare before Cyrus yanked her head back to his face, kissing her as if he hadn’t kissed anyone in a hundred years. I felt my heart squeeze in my chest, why? I had no idea. I didn’t like him… did I?

__ Flashback End __

“You okay?” Christy’s familiar voice brought me back to my normal state.

“Just fine.” I lied, trying to smile but I’d probably looked constipated.

“You should get to sleep, it’s 2.” Christy yawned, blinking tiredly. I nodded, my eye lids felt heavy as I blinked back more tears. My eyes shut as I drifted off to sleep.

_________________

I stretched my arms, cracking them in the process. They felt stiff and I didn’t like it one bit. I rubbed my eyes as I looked around, the alarm clock coming into my vision. 10:28 A.M. I groaned loudly as I realized that I slept in.

“Morning!” Christy chirped, making me jump nearly 2 feet in the air. I scowled before nodding my head in acknowledgement. She frowned, holding out a bowl and glass. I looked at her suspiciously, still not fully woken up.

“Take it!” She encouraged as I slowly reached for the bowl. She shoved it into my hand, nearly spilling whatever the contents were, all over my sheet. I smiled widely when I realized what it was.

"It’s your favorite; vanilla cream of wheat and Strawberry Citrus juice!” Christy said, smiling as I spooned the cream of wheat into my mouth.

“Amazing!” I droned, taking another spoonful.

“So… how are you taking it?” She asked, settling onto my bed, her legs crossed. I noticed she was dressed before I took in her words. How was I taking it? Taking wha- oh. I shut my eyes tight, rubbing my forehead.

“I’m fine, like I said before.” I said, smiling while tears brimmed my eyes. Christy obviously saw this before she patted my arm enthusiastically.

“We can go out, today! Have some girl time, alone!” She said, grinning as I shrugged.

“Great, go get ready!” She demanded.

“But my cream of wheat!” I pouted as she pulled the food out of my reach.

“Shower first, then cream of wheat.” She informed while I pouted. I gave up and decided to take a shower; besides, it was the only place I could cry in peace.

__

Cyrus’s Point of View

I woke up with a pounding headache as the dim light laced the air. Where am I? I groaned and sat up slowly. I opened my eyes, taking in the familiar setting. The party. I was lying in a bed, who’s? I don’t know. I turned and saw a girl in bed, my eyes widening as I comprehended what could’ve happened? Familiar brown hair came into view and my nerves picked up… did we?

Maverly turned in the bed, revealing her face. The girl wasn’t Maverly. Her blond eyebrows sat above her brown eyes as she grinned up at me. Miranda was in the bed, next to me, and she had no shirt on. I felt it rising in my throat, disgust. Her face turned from a smile to a frown with a scared look pasted behind her eyes.

“What did we do?” I spat, my voice cold. She looked confused. She was trying to be innocent.

“What do you mean?” She asked, pressing her hand to my bare chest. I pushed her hand away forcefully, giving her the idea to tell me what I wanted to know.

“Nothing, we didn’t do anything.” She sighed, upset. I sighed in relief.

“What is wrong with you?” I spat. She frowned.

“You dye your hair to look like Maverly’s, and you, you seduce me when I was drunk. And…” I trailed off, realization hitting me like a truck. I jumped out of bed, glad that I had my pants on. I grabbed my shirt off of the floor.

“Don’t leave!” She shouted, on the verge of tears.

“You disgust me.” I spat at her as I shook my head and raced out of the drunken teenager filled house.

__

Maverly’s Point of View

Christy dragged me to another store as I whined loudly. My feet hurt and my body felt exhausted.

"C’mon, Mave.” She countered, running towards an isle covered in pink, sparkly dresses. She thumbed through the clothes as I sat back, annoyed. My phone buzzed but I ignored it, it was probably Riley trying to locate us to hang out. It buzzed again and I pressed the ‘off’ button, turning off the phone.

“How does this look?” Christy asked, holding up a dark pink dress and swaying her hips to the side and craning her neck to look at the outfit.

“Great.” I replied, bitterly. Why did she have to drag me out of my house, not even 24 hours after what I seen? The girl I hate and a guy I l… actually cared about kissing and making out at a party that I had dragged him to.

“Why don’t we get you a dress? The dance is coming up next week! You probably forgot about it! What color dress do you want?” Christy squealed, oblivious to my growing anger.

“I don’t want to go to the dance.” I spat, annoyed.

“Why not?” She furthered.

“Because I don’t want to go.” I stated.

“Why not?” She pressed.

“Because you and Riley will have dates.” I spat, venom dripping from my voice.

“Is that what this is about?” She asked, frowning.

“This isn’t about anything.” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest childishly. She should have listened to me when I said that I didn’t feel ready to go out just yet.

"You’re lying,” She stated, hands on her hips. “Tell me.” She pressed as I stared at my converses.

"Tell me.” She stated again.

“You’re making a big deal over nothing.” I shot back.

“No, I don’t think I am. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. If it’s ‘nothing’ like you’re saying it is, why are you so mad?” She asked, leaning forward. She was close enough for me to punch her in her throat.

“You know why I’m mad.” I sneered.

"Why?” She asked again. “I caught my ex friend making out with my enemy, who he was supposed to hate, too.” I squabbled.

“Just an ‘ex friend?’ No more?” She countered.

“No.” I replied, my voice cracking.

“If you liked him, you should have just said it; not that it wasn’t obvious enough.” She said, shrugging.

“I don’t like him. I didn’t like him. I won’t like him.” I replied, gritting my teeth.

“I beg to differ.” She replied, making it final that she knew.

“Even if I did like him, which I don’t, nothing is going to happen; I’m done with Cyrus Angelo. Completely done.” I said, crossing my arms.

“Do you want to make him jealous?” She asked, leaning forward. I shrugged, swallowing.

“Do ya?” She said, persistent like a 5 year old.

“Sure.” I replied through gritted teeth.

“Let’s find you a dress then.” She said, grinning stupidly.

___

7 dresses and 2 annoyed arguments later, Christy and I purchased our dresses. My dress was blue and, forced by Christy, I got black sparkling 3 inch heels! Whoop-Dee-do! Sarcasm Noted. She also forced me to get some accessories; a blue purse that we caught on sale and a blazer that was chosen by me! I also got a beanie. And then Christy gave me a bracelet that she called a ‘lucky charm’ and it’ll bring me ‘good fortune’ with my problems.

Her dress was peach with a black belt and she also has an over sweater, an expensive one at that. I chose her purse and shoes. She chose the over sweater, though, that was all her! I also bought her a bracelet that would bring her ‘shut up time’ and ‘stop bothering me’ minutes.

___

Cyrus’s Point of View

“Mom, what is Maverly’s address?” I asked, trying to remain calm. What had I done?

“Here, why do you need it?” She asked, smiling knowingly as she handed me a sheet of paper. She knew nothing.

“No reason, just to hang out.” I lied, rushing out of the house. The player part of me was telling me that I did nothing wrong and that Maverly wasn’t going to break anytime soon, anyway. The nice guy part of me was saying that I didn’t want her for that; I wanted to just be friends. And the jerk part of me was telling me to forget about it because we weren’t meant to be friends, anyway. I ignored all three and went with what my brain was telling me.

The memories were rushing back to me, blurry, but still accessible.  I remember Miranda, who I thought was Maverly because of her hair and similar color dress, hey- don’t judge me, I was drunk! She was dragging me to a bedroom; I thought it was to talk but she had other ideas.

As soon as we got into the room she pushed me on the bed and started kissing me, she wasn’t good at it, but I thought it was Maverly so of course I was going to react. I remember when I was fully drunk and couldn’t tell the difference between a house and a sheet of paper, Miranda (Maverly) pulled away and turned toward the door.

A similar looking girl was standing in the doorway, she was blurry but I could see the similar color dress. I thought it was Miranda, though it was Maverly, and she looked hurt by the way she was standing- cowering back. Her arms were stiff though, and it looked like she wanted to cry. Miranda, who I thought was Maverly, smiled, her hazel orbs looked a bit greener were glowing (which must have been contacts) and I thought that Maverly was happy that Miranda finally gave up so I kissed her.

Turns out it was the exact opposite, Miranda was happy Maverly was hurt. Maverly was like a puzzle, she doesn’t show that she cares, she just does. You never know when she’s hurt; but then, I knew she was hurt. When she finally left, Miranda went to unbutton my pants, but I pushed her away, lying down and passing out.

I arrived at the house, it was large- comfy sized actually. I ran to the front door, pressing the doorbell impatiently.

“What the-?” Her mother started but I cut her off rudely.

“Is your daughter here? Maverly?” I asked, heck I wasn’t sure if she had any other daughters.

“No, she left with Christy.” Her mother said, smiling amused. I was annoyed with it.

“Do you know where she went?” I furthered.

“Probably to the mall or something, dress shopping for the dance next week.” Her mom said, shrugging carelessly.

“Thanks!” I said, running down the walk and back to my car. I was heading for the mall, and nothing was going to stop me… gee that sounded awesome, very Terminator like. Don’t you think?

__

Maverly’s Point of View

“Christy, can we get food now?” I whined as she pointed at clothes through store windows. I will admit, it was helping me forget the incident but it was just making my feet tired and my stomach growl.

“Hold on a sec! Wait here, I’m going to go see how much that shirt costs.” She said pointing to a table at the food court while she ran back to a girlie store. I sat at the table and looked around. Forget her, I’m ordering what I want. She’ll take forever anyway.

I got up and walked towards a pizza shack and ordered two large slices of cheese pizza and a bottle of vitamin water.

“Ordering for two?” The guy smiled.

“Yeah, sure.” I said awkwardly. They were both for me, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

"The total is $12.35. Your change will be $7.65. Thank you for shopping at Carlton’s Pizza Palace. Enjoy your meal. Come again.” The overly cheery cashier spoke, grinning like a madman as I took my food, eyeing him.

What if he spit in it because I lied to him? I stared at the pizza and realized it was just grease. I sat at the table I was assigned to, from Christy and began chowing down. I heard heavy breathing and footsteps approaching me and I assumed it was Christy, racing to tell me about a 25 minute sale that has ‘the cutest jeans!’ Do you know what she calls shorts? Mini Capri's. MINI CAPRI'S! I sighed as I wiped my mouth with the napkin and someone slammed into the booth in front of me.

“What do you want Christy?” I snapped, annoyed already. She just sat there awkwardly as I blinked staring at my pizza hanging out of my mouth by the cheese. It may have been sloppy, but it was good.

“It’s not Christy.” The familiar voice spoke as I pulled away from my pizza. Oh my god.