Page 4 of Not Like The Other Girls

Listen, kids, just because something is edible doesn’t mean it should be consumed.

Finally, she went off to her last job of the day, this time on the wealthier side of town, babysitting for Mr. and Mrs. Knight’s little basketball team of five children, all of whom are spoiled to an extreme.

One of them bit her sneaker, a boy called either King or Kai or Kurt, and a girl named Khloe spit in her hair. Other than a possible breeding kink responsible for the whole horde of kids they produced, Mr. and Mrs. Knight sure seem to have an obsession with the letter K.

And maybe vitamin K as well, based on the white, powdery substance she keeps finding around their house.

Now, on her journey home, Lily calmly meditates on her day like what a Yoga Guru on YouTube had taught, inhaling with her nose and exhaling with her mouth. She sees her house on the horizon, the feeling of familiarity overwhelming her heart.

Wow, so wholesome.

A tiny old ranch home sits on a little hill of hay and wildflowers, encompassed by a ring of low-rise hog wire fences that have probably been around since the early nineteen thirties. Dirty brown rags, a tattered box of cigarettes, a forgotten bouquet of dandelions, and a random pink bra all hang on the rusted wire. The little house itself has wooden walls painted blue and large window shutters painted a chipping white that is now yellowish.

With the help of a couple of her momma’s exes, the formerly abandoned place had been remodeled a couple of years ago, and they all have squatted here since.

A couple of horses are standing in the stall nearby, painted the same blue paint, chomping on extra-sweetened carrot sticks and drinking warm water.

Wow, so abstract.



Skipping into her cozy abode, Lily Lonely Lonesome closes her eyes and inhales the homey, nostalgic smell of old laundry detergent, burnt diaries, and alcohol, thinking about all the sorrow of her home.

What.

“Yo, Lila,” a voice cuts into her haze of sad girl contemplations.

Lily turns, opening her eyes right to the visuals of her ex-boyfriend’s electric blue braces shining from his corny smile. Sabrinella the Beautiful, her sister, older by a full year, sits next to him on the loveseat. Wait, no, practically on his lap with her straight, long blonde hair wrapped around the ex’s body like that tower-abiding princess from Disney. That’s just cringe, bitch.

“For the last time, Bradley, it’s Lily. Like the purple flower,” she yells into the slimy-haired boy’s face. His hair is even shinier than his braces. She still can’t believe she once thought this man-child with the memory of a goldfish was her soulmate and that she would be the future Mrs. Bradley Kaden Kennel. He even likes eating Oreos with ketchup and sprinkles.

And now, he’s dating her idiot sister.

Just great.

Right on cue, Sabrinella whips her head over, bleached blonde hair flinging in the air like a tacky scene from some overly dramatic d-rated movie. “Get your ugly-assed purple flower face out of my guy’s sight, bitch.”

The poor, pathetic girl, stunned by her mean-girl sister’s harsh words and even harsher glare, begins to feel faint. Just like that, she faints, fainting faintly into the faint-colored floor.

Too bad, girly.

At least she had met the tall billionaire CEO hero this morning, who might or might not show up to save her from this.

But just then, a loud, obnoxious screech of a clearly obnoxious individual rings out, pulling Lily out of her dramatic fainting session. The girl shakes her head, regains steadiness in a flash, then covers her ears with both hands in order to minimize her sound intake. But she still hears it anyway.

Is that Every the CEO hero?

Here to save her in a shining armor?

On a white horse?

Nope.

“You are such a dumb ho,” the voice of her mother dearest’s most recent boyfriend filters through her thin, dainty fingers. With it comes her momma’s undeniably strong smell of alcohol.

Yep, they’re both here.

Suck it up, Lily.