Young Writers Society

NOTES: so i hate this chapter, but it's necessary. chapter seven, in all of its brutal shock and endearment, makes up for it though, which will hopefully be uploaded at the end of the week so that there's enough time for this chapter to get a decent amount of reviews. i've also decided to rename this story, but i won't be changing the title on this site to avoid confusing people. if you also wish to get updates sooner, then feel free to follow @aaliyah_laurier on wattpad. this book is formatted beautifully on there and you'll even get to see some visuals. okay that's all!! try to enjoy :,)) 

side note - im going back doing another round of revisions in case anyone was wondering LOL 

PART SIX

"Why would you want to sleep over at a stranger's house? You don't even know this girl. Slow down, she's probably not going anywhere."

"But we're getting close. And we'll only see each other once a week," I argued as we pulled out of the school parking lot. "You can meet her mother and everything. Please," oh so desperately, "I haven't had a sleepover since that one time when I was in Girl Scouts."

But Aunt Tracy was barely bothered.

"Don't ask me about it again and I'll get back to you tonight on that. And I think you should know...," turning the windshield wipers on, "...that I don't like you being friends with a girl who calls herself Groupie. What is her real name? That can't be her real name."

"Her name is Adrian, but she doesn't like to be called that," and I looked over at her. "Should I start calling her Adrian instead? For your sake?"

"Oh, yes. Please. I cringe every time I have to say that girl's name." The turn signal went click, click, click. "Did you see Tori today?"

My stomach turned at the mention of her.

"I saw her and she wants nothing to do with me," I grumbled. "I don't want to talk about it."

Aunt Tracy couldn't believe it.

"What? She wants nothing to do with you?" She remarked. "Why not?"

"She's popular now, Aunt Tracy. She doesn't want to hang out with the same people." I watched the buildings and cars racing past us, thinking about how mine and Tori's 'friendship' was actually more like a commensalism. "It's not a big deal."

She made a turn.

"You know what," she began, "this is just teenage girlhood. This is how teenage girls are. Tori may be peaking right now, but it's always better to peak in adulthood. She'll be in her thirties trying to relive these years through her children while you'll just be getting started."

You're finally saying something I actually need to hear.

I smirked and looked at her. "Are you admitting that it's actually a good thing that I spend all of my free time in my bedroom?"

I was only being half serious.

"No," as we approached a yellow light. "I'm saying that there is a bright side to it."

"Yeah, not having to deal with other people."

"Except for Adrian, right?" She was also only being half serious.

I tried not to smile to myself. "Exactly."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Aunt Tracy "would die before she let any of her grandchildren call her grandma." That's what she told Jude when he announced him and his wife's pregnancy at Thanksgiving a little over a year ago.

Now that little Vivian was a year old, Aunt Tracy was ecstatic when she was asked to babysit while Jude and Vanessa went and did whatever they had to do at their new apartment, twenty extra minutes away from her house.

She was out the door following a quick "leftovers are in the fridge!" and I had the whole house to my myself on my third day there.

Truthfully, I couldn't have cared less about the leftovers. On average, I ate one meal a day and enough snacks to cover the rest. It was terrible, but Mom always told me that I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining any weight, so I took more advantage of that than I should've. It was doing terrible things for me. I didn't even want to know how many cavities I had.

So, instead of eating, I thought I'd clean. What better way to get permission for a sleepover than to surprise her with a clean house?

I brought the CD player from my bedroom downstairs and inserted Little Earthquakes before spending an hour and a half brooming, mopping, doing dishes, and organizing. It was pleasurable, and even quite fun.

Then, my phone buzzed.

Hi honey. This is Ray. I got a new number.

Your mother gave me yours since I lost it.

Let me know what you want for Christmas.

How are things with your aunt so far?

My heart dropped so hard I was scared I would look down between my legs and see it throbbing on the floor.

I placed the spare trash bag I'd grabbed from the laundry room atop the laminate countertop and ferociously began typing.

I NEVER WANT TO SEE OR SPEAK

TO YOU AGAIN. LEAVE ME ALONE.

NEVER REACH OUT TO ME AGAIN.

And blocked.

To say I hated him even more for even thinking reaching out to me would be a respectable thing to do would be an understatement.

At that moment, I didn't even know if I had the right to be so distressed and alarmed after all this time of knowing him. I knew his game by then. I should've expected it. 

But what upset me the most was the fact that my mother had given him my phone number, when she knew exactly how I felt about him — which also meant that she and him were still talking.

She owed me an explanation.

why does ray have my number.

i was hoping that you were finally

done with him. ur still talking to him

after everything he's put us through?

At that moment, I hated her. I'd always hated Ray, but I almost hated her more. She was the one who'd promised me that she would divorce him and we'd have our old lives back. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I believe her?

These terrible thoughts seamlessly passed through my brain; the same way the cars do on Eisenhower Parkway, late at night, when no one else is on the road.

Get out of my blood.

I hate you, and I hate that I'll always be your daughter.

I wish you'd get alcohol poisoning already and die. You and him both.

You can burn in hell together.

I didn't type that out. I'd regret it if I did. Even thinking something so dark made me feel guilty.

Precious Things continued to rashly blare over my thoughts, and everything instantly became overstimulating. I quickly put the new trash bag in the trash can and rushed to unplug the CD player.

Then, I sat on the floor, in that exact spot, desperately trying to metabolize all the thoughts and feelings that seemed to be scattered inside of me.

God, you're so fucking dramatic. It's not the end of the world.

Ten minutes passed before I was able to go and put away all the cleaning supplies, go up to my bedroom, and lie on my stomach in bed. I didn't bother bringing the CD player back up, changing my clothes, turning the light out, or getting under the blanket.

A single glistening teardrop ran down my cheek and landed on my pillow.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Knock, knock, knock.

"Donna?"

I opened my eyes and groggily rolled over. Eight twenty-six on my alarm clock.

When I didn't respond, the doorknob turned and the door creaked open.

"What's the matter with you?" Aunt Tracy asked, stepping in and turning on the light. "You cleaned the kitchen. Thanks. It needed to be done."

I tiredly rolled over and sat up on my elbows.

"Yeah," I then said. "I thought I would."

She moved closer, still in her long wool coat.

"Did you eat dinner?"

I told her I did, which was an outright lie, but I knew that if I told her the truth she'd make me come downstairs and have a whole dinner, and I was in no mood.

"Well, you seem upset." She was certain as she sat down on the edge of my bed, next to my legs. "Is it Tori?"

Ugh, God. Tori.

"Not necessarily," I murmured, feeling like a pathetic child. "Ray texted me."

Her lips pressed together slightly, indicating her thoughts were focused on something troubling, but not overwhelmingly so.

"For what? What did he say?"

"Just," another yawn, "he just texted me and asked me what I wanted for Christmas."

Aunt Tracy sighed and shook her head, like it was the stupidest thing in the world.

"Just block his number. If he reaches out to you again, I'll deal with him myself," she assured. "He doesn't scare me."

"You think he scares me?" I drearily asked. "You think I'm afraid of him?"

"I think you're upset," Aunt Tracy said. "I think he has some power over you, and that's normal. But you're living here now, Donna. He doesn't have any power over you here."

"He doesn't scare me," I proceeded, this time with more confidence. "I just hate him, I want nothing to do with him. He makes me feel sick."

Aunt Tracy stood up, walked over, and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. The lonely twelve year old in me instantly melted.

"Go back to sleep," she advised after, walking towards the door. "Another thing," looking back, "I'll need to meet Adrian and her mother before you go to her house this weekend."

I sat up on my hands, trying not to seem as elated as I was. "You mean I can go?"

She sighed. "Only because I feel bad."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The next text conversation between Groupie and I:

good news :)) i can come this weekend.

yay!!!

we're gonna have so much fun

and my sister agreed to be "my mom"

for us. it took a lot of begging but

i know she'll want a babysitter for

break so what choice did she even 

have?

this is kind of embarrassing but this

will be the first sleepover i've

ever been to since this one i went

to a really long time ago. and it

was for girl scouts. i wouldn't have

been invited otherwise.

i've never had a sleepover with

anyone i wasn't dating.

ur still one step ahead of me lol

but how can i trust that you won't see

how i'm living and never want to speak

to me again

i know its probably hard to 

believe but i wont do that to u.

actually not so much. when i

met you i got this feeling like i

could put the whole world in your hands

and it'd be ok. you're so sweet.

u make me blushhhh

is it okay if i just tell you what to expect 

before you come? just to ease my anxiety.

whatever makes u feel comfortable.

both of my parents have drug problems.

my dad is more into the heavier stuff, but

my mom is really just a functioning alcoholic.

i take on a lot of responsibilities around the

trailer, like cleaning up and cooking for my

little sister. so while you're here i might be

doing some of that.

my mom drinks a lot too. its fucking

embarrassing. your baby sister is really

lucky to have you. i hope she knows that.

i call her my baby sister but she's really

more like my daughter. if my vegas dream

doesn't work out i think i'll just adopt her.

val is a terrible mother anyway. i know she'll

lose custody by the time she's ten.

val?

my big sister. she had that baby to

spite our father and put all the responsibility

on me. now shes unhappy and sint doing 

anything with her life. the most excitement she

gets is from drugs and sex. 

i'll help u with whatever i can while

i'm there

you don't have to do that flower

but id so love to

thank you for caring.

dont thank me. giving a shit about ur

friends is the bare minimum. im sorry

u havent had that.