Chapter 12 [ANA POV]

“Ana!” Is the first thing I hear as I pick up my telephone. An obnoxious way to greet someone, really. It’s quite irritating. Only one person can irritate me this much, just by yelling my name.

         “Who is this?” I say, already knowing the answer.

         “It’s me silly, Celia!” I hate how she acts so friendly, despite everything that’s happened between us.

         “Celia.” I restate.

         “Yes, Celia. I wanted to say hi, maybe catch up. Would you like to get a beer or something?” I hate beer. But I smile anyways, and agree. Wait, why would I smile? She can’t even see me.

         “Tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at around 11:00”

         “Pm?”

         “Pm. Maybe we can meet some cute boys!” She giggles.

         “I don’t think I’m ready for that, Celia.”

         “Only kidding, sweetie! I miss Kris, too. I’m so sorry, er, about everything.” I’ll never forgive her.

         “… See you at 11:00.” I say quickly, and then hang up the phone. I can just see her on the other side of the phone, probably in some crack den somewhere, confused by why I hung up. She disgusts me. I don’t want to see her.

         Celia tried to ruin our relationship countless times. She lived with us for about 5 months, until Kris kicked her out because she was always high. He acted weird around her. Like, I don’t know, he was uncomfortable. Almost afraid of how she acted.

        

 

         I start to get ready at 10:00. I have to take a shower, because I haven’t in like 4 days. I haven’t even really left the house either. I haven’t cried though! I said I wouldn’t. I’m not in denial. I know that moping around the house is not better than crying. Worse, rather. But I can’t help it. Nothing makes me happy any more. I need to do this for myself. I cake makeup onto my skin, so that basically none of my real face is showing. This way I’m less vulnerable. I put on a small green dress. Kris loved when I wore green. I change to an even smaller black one. Okay, maybe I look a little s****y, but who cares? I hope this is fun. It has to be. I wait on the porch for Celia. She shows up around 12:00, making me wait an hour. She gets out of the car.

         She’s wearing a surprising long yellow dress. It’s cute, but not sexy. Celia’s always sexy, even when she’s as high as a kite. But now, as she gets closer, I see almost no makeup on her face. Her eyes don’t look as crazy as they usually do. She hugs me. Like she has the right to hug me. But, for some reason, it doesn’t really make me mad. I hug her back, I even lay my head on her shoulder. But then I realize that I hate her, so I move to push away.

         “Okay, lets go.” I say in a domineering voice, sounding cold.

         The thing about Celia is, she’s always happy. Okay, no she isn’t, she’s always fake happy. I can see right past her, but to anyone else, her poker face is very believable.

         “So what have you been up to, Anna?” She always calls me Anna instead if Ana. We get in the car. She drives.

         “Nothing much. Life’s been pretty dull...” I say, realizing that I sounds week. So then I say “How about you? Have you finally gotten clean?” To sound cold again. Her body stiffens.

         “I’m working on it.” She says, trying to maintain her happy cover up.

         “Well good luck!” I say laughing, as if to say she never will. She laughs back.

         “So…uh… have you been very sad?” She asks. What a f*****g dumb question.

         “No, Celia. I haven’t been sad. Of course I’ve been f*****g sad!” She is so dumb. Sad isn’t the right word. I can’t describe the way I feel. I could seriously kill myself.

         “I’m sorry. That was dumb.” She explains. We arrive at the club. I go directly to the bar.

         “Give me your strongest drink.” I tell the bartender.

         “Hard night?” She says, preparing the drink. I laugh.

         “Try hard 6 months!” I tell her. She hands me the drink.

         “Tell me about it.” She says.

         “Yeah. Just keep ‘em coming” I say, and guzzle down my drink.

 

 

 

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” People are yelling behind me. Maybe one too many drinks? Heh Heh… So by now, I’m not sure where my shoes are… and I lost count of drinks I’ve had. I think a couple people have stuffed their numbers down into my cleavage. I can hear a******s talking behind me.

 “What a w***e!” One girl says.

 “I’d like to tap that b***h!”

 “Don’t j-judge me!” I yell to them all.

          “SHOW ME YOUR T*****S!” A guy yells. Well, what the hell! What do I have to lose? I flash them all. Then I bend over, throw up, and pass out.