Page 52 of The PTA President
“Oh, I get it. This is a squirt and run type of booty call, right?” I ask, lightening the mood.
“You ruined my life! I can’t believe I let you touch me.” Her fingers fumble as she hurries to button up her coat.
“Yeah, I bet your life looks pretty shitty from way up in that penthouse. I can’t even imagine the torture, I mean do you even have a butler or do you have to wipe your own ass?”
“Stop talking to my girls and, better yet, stop trying to make light of this situation. You’re a lonely, sad, little girl who plays with fire when she doesn’t get her way. Leave me out of it. We’re done.”
“Sure, Jan Brady, whatever you say. Nice to know therapy’s donenothingto get rid of that spoiled brat attitude. Now if you wouldn’t mind, kindly getting the fuck out of my house and taking that rich girl scent with you.” I wave her off and plop down on my bed.
With that punch to the gut, she swings open my door and hauls ass outside, letting the front door slam behind her. Megan waltzes in with a post-meditation glow about her. “Wow. Smells like hate sex in here, well done, champ.”
ChaptEr 37
Candace
“Whoa, that’s a little booby for a high school dance,” Court mocks from her bathroom floor, sorting through expired lipsticks.
It’s been three days of pure torture avoiding Nat as we get closer to the dance, which is in one hour. Court was right. Going to her place that night was a mistake, but I was out of my mind with rage after hearing she’s still talking to Kate and Madi. When backed into a corner, and all control is stripped away, she becomes an arsonist, while I lay on my back allowing her to pull life-changing orgasms from me. Self-destruction is in our blood. I thought our ages and lifestyles made us different, but the more I uncover in therapy, the clearer it becomes how similar we are.
“Can everyone go one day without critiquing me? I didn’t think my fashion choices were up for discussion. Should we examine my hairline next?” I snap.
“I’ve just never seen that dress before, and you kind of look like a stripper. I thought you’d wanna know before the minivan mafia douses you in pig's blood for looking like a suburban slut,” she says, handing me a scandalous lipstick shade.
After unzipping the little black dress, emphasis on little, and throwing it to the floor, I’m left in nude-colored underwear, and I’veneverlooked worse. After relationships, girls tend to pick apart their bodies. Some even go to the wild side by dropping fifteen pounds and getting a pixie cut, giving the middle finger to the man that scorned them. What kind of madness do you unleash on your body after awomanbreaks you?
“Here, try this. I’ve had it forever, and it’s just collecting dust in here.” She hands me a floor-length emerald green dress with a lower neckline that will show skin without the cleavage.
“Sorry for snapping, it’s just that nothing feels right. It’s like my equilibrium is off. Everything around me is spinning and nothing is fitting where it should. I don’t think the universewants me to live a normal life. The two relationships I’ve been in left me burned beyond repair. To add fuel to the fire, the one that hurt me the most, I still have to see every day, that’s not normal. Exe’s shouldn’t be forced to breathe the same air.”
“You look really pretty, much better than the town whore chic you were rocking a minute ago,” Court jokes, easing the tension. “You were due for some shaking up. Let the universe pull you where it’s meant to. Stop trying to control everything and let yourself find some true happiness.”
“Is that what my horoscope said today?” I ask skeptically.
“No, it’s just sisterly advice. Watching you hit rock bottom and pretend you’re not stuck there is exhausting. Whatever you need to do to pull yourself back up, do it, regardless of who’s holding your hand on the ride back up.” She taps me on the shoulder gently, before heading out.
With the bathroom now quiet, I return to my routine, cleaning up my makeup. Grabbing the mascara that fell in the sink earlier, brings back an unwanted memory of all the times Nat and I have gotten ready together. It didn’t take long for me to crave her presence, even if it was just trading blush. She’d be working on her winged liner and would catch me gawking at how effortless she made it look. We each had our own routines and steps. She started with her hair, always, and I would still be spraying mine with hairspray when it was time to get dressed.
I’d rather walk around with gravel in my heels, then see Nat after our bedroom mistake the other night. With a room full of teens and faculty, there won’t be time for either of us to converse. Not that there’s anything left to figure out. We’re done, and that’s that. Convincing myself of this and acting on it are two very different things. I want to shut the door and throw away the key on that part of my life, just like she did when she literally torched my house.
Pulling up to the gym and seeing her car already here makes me want to do two things. Ram into it causing mass destruction, and push her up against it to kiss every inch of her. It seems fitting that I’m at a high school of all places, home of every hormonal rage blackout, having one of my own over my ex-girlfriend.
Natalie
“Whoa, why so buttoned up tonight? Are the nuns supervisingthis little shindig?” Megan throws herself on my bed, suspiciously eyeing my dress.
“Pretty much, and they’ll tear me a new asshole if I’m showinganyskin tonight. Believe me, they warned me.” I say, smoothing out the creases in the dress I’ve only worn once.
My armpits leak through this tight black dress that’s got a collar up to my chin, but it’s not showing anything inappropriate so I’m calling that a win. I may look more like Dracula’s bride than a chaperone at a high school dance, but at least the moms won't be shit-talking about my tramp stamp.
“Will your dress be the only thing buttoned-up tonight? Is this some peacocking maneuver to get the attention of a certain single mom?” Her eyebrows wiggle in a theatrical way, only meaning one thing.
“It won't matter what I’m wearing, she’ll come crawling back to me.” I say confidently, with only a hint of delusion.
“I see we haven’t become humbled since therapy started. I’ll make sure Ineverattend a session with the good doctor.”
“The only thing the good doctor has beengoodat is giving me a few minutes in between sessions to see Candace. She’s so cute when she’s all flustered and pissy. It’s like for a split second she turns the robot setting off and realizes she’s allowed to be human.”
Megan sits up to help zip up my dress. “This doesn’t sound toxic at all, seems totally healthy. A real life fairy-tale being written right before our eyes, Maury should do a segment about you two,” she says sarcastically.
