Ch. 1 So Sick of You








Boredom really made you wish you had the imagination of a five year old, when instead all you could think about was your life's drama. When I was about eight or so, I'd see the 15 year old girls prancing about in their tube tops and sandals in the summer heat, a cellphone or girlfriend with them, blabbing about boys and school, other friends and whatnot. Che, like I was gonna be one of them, I always told myself.

Too late. I had some issues, and they really pissed me off. I sometimes wondered if the summer heat was making me irritated, or if it was just thinking about these things. Frickin Olive...pissing me off to no end. I could spit nails by now!

"Tala?" My head turned to see my sister staring at me with a coloring pencil in her hand, "you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm going up for a minute. You can have the TV," I said, tossing the remote to her, and going up to the cool air of my room. I sprawled onto my bed and turned up my iPod, not bothering to check what song was playing.

And back to the issues. There was Olive, who drove me insane, with her this-is-the-real-me, when the real her didn't even exist anymore. The last few days of school she would show up in sweatshirts and thick blue jeans, trying to be just like Rae, who wore that in spring. "It's just my style Tala," she would say and wave it off with a turn of her head, her blue eyes evading any sort of eye contact. That would sure as hell make her a liar. Not that she didn't make it obvious anyway.

And what really pissed me off about her? Was that she had the nerve to talk about me behind my back, saying I caused her stress, when she was the bitch here! So she could say something, but god forbid you speak your mind just once, and she shuts off her entire electronic life! The only life she has!!!! Well here's what I had to say to her: Whoopdee Fucking DOO! I hope your migraines make you fall down the stairs and break your farmer tan legs you copy cat backstabbing whore!

She would twist words and situations to save herself from the spotlight drama as the culprit and force everyone else into the salad bowl of bitch fights. Prime example, word had gotten around that Rae was getting a little too friendly with Derk. Michi had asked me about it, and when I waved it off, I had asked Rae on my own, not for Michi's sake. Well thanks to Olive's loud, situation twisting, fat lips, she told Michi that I ran my ass over to blab to Rae about it, which made Rae look like a slut, me look like a big mouth, and Michi look jealous! We were all fighting, while Olive stood on the sidelines with her wannabe emo look, probably applauding herself and dousing herself in heavy coverup and disgusting perfumes thinking I'm so suave! I caused this drama and no one knows it's me!

Guess again bitch.

I found myself glaring at the ceiling fan that whirled like a white circle in my room, my teeth grit to the point my jaw hurt, my hand clenched too tightly around my iPod. I exhaled heavily, and tried to relax. I didn't know how much longer I would last! And to top it off, I had to spend a day with her. I'd try to behave, but I warned Rae...if she did one thing, I'd knock her face in and tell her exactly what makes me angry. It's gotten to the point I can't look at her.

"You make me sick," I hissed, venom heavily glazed on every sound of each word as it spit through my teeth. I knew I couldn't last much longer with her. Besides all this shit she'd caused, she was driving everyone insane. Rae couldn't be around her for two minutes without hearing Was it him?! You should invite him!!. I couldn't be around her long enough to say Maybe you should try something else.

This so called friend that I had spent time with, and shared secrets with, had the balls to get in my face and tell me I was a whimp for not telling Trey my feelings for him. The perfect set up, sitting shoulder to shoulder, face to face with a good laugh or two, the moment I'd just been dying to have with him. So I wasn't his eye candy, but I got what I wanted. Why didn't you tell him you wimp?! I can't believe you! You should have just said it!

She had the fucking nerve to tell me that at the top of her lungs, while he was ten feet away, hearing every word. And the best part? The best part of this anger that boiled inside of me like a volcano ready to blow like it'd never had before? She mustered up the courage to type in three words. TYPE. I like you.

She didn't know anything about me or my love life, and she had the guts to tell me I was a wimp, when she couldn't say it in person. I knew I was shy, and I knew I was scared. But I had never felt so hurt, and thrown under the bus.

"You make me so sick."