Truth and Lies

There's always love in friendships and relationships, and there's always drama. Mary is an ordinary teenage girl, who's dealing with both teenage drama and personal issues.

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3. The Wrong Side of the Bed

Monday 7.59 AM

I open my locker, while thinking about, how Fred has fucked up my new friendship to Ally. I take my books out of the locker, when I hear someone behind me. I turn around.

“Hey, I’m sorry about the drama Saturday”, Ally says, while looking down at the ground.

“I’m also sorry. It all just got a little out of hand”, I say, smiling.

“What do you have now?”

“English, I think”

“Uhm…Mary, do you think, that Fred will ever forgive me?”, Ally says, and stops walking. I turn my head her way.

“I don’t think, that you’re even the problem. He’s really hurt, but he’s still in love with you”

“I want him back... Is that wrong?”

“It’s not wrong, but it’s not right either. Then you should have stayed with him, when you had him. I mean, you made a decision, and you really hurt him”

“I can see, what you’re saying, but it’s a year ago, and I was naive and stupid”

“I get you. Maybe you should talk to Fred about this, but first end it with David. You deserve better, and you clearly know, that he’s cheating”

“You’re right”

 

Monday 4 PM

I sit in my bed listening to music. Just going through old pictures and videos of me and my ex. I miss him, but I hate him. He’s put me through hell, and I’d do anything to get even.

Sometimes I just sit for myself planning, how to hurt him. I know it’s sick, and I never do anything about it. I’m not the kind of person, that hates a lot or likes revenge or something. I’ve never felt a rage like this one. I’ve never been this hurt either. I just don’t get, why every guy in the world has to treat me so bad.

Sometimes I wonder, if it’s me.

My dad can’t even treat me right. Like the only man in the world, who’s supposed and forced to love me, doesn’t care, that hurts... Like a lot.

The doorbell rings, and I get up from my bed, and I get out of my sad and deep zone, that I was just in. I put on my happy face, so it seems like everything is ok.

“I’m coming”, I say, after it’s ringing for the second time. I look through the window. It’s David. I open the door.

“What did you say to Ally?”

“What didn’t I say? Oh, you mean, where I told her to dumb you, or where I told her to go after Fred?”

“What did you tell her?!”

“Ok, I can see, that we’re gonna take this slow for your understanding... I said that…”

“I heard you clearly”, he says interrupting

“Ok, so are we done?”

“You are so annoying and stupid and…”

“And you are so self-observed, desperate for attention and manipulating, so what’s your point?”

“I’m none of those things”

“Bye, David”, I say, while slamming the door in his face.

 I take a deep breath, while looking at my phone. I get a text from Christopher – we’re kind of friends with benefits. He wants to hang out or more like have sex. I text back, that he’s welcome as always, and he comes 15 minutes later.

 

Monday 2.43 AM

I wake up to the sound of my doorbell ringing. Annoyed, I walk down to the door, while trying to open my eyes, but they’re still squeezed together. Everything is all so blurry. I find my way to the door at last, and I open it only to see that it’s David again.

“What do you want?”, I say, angry and pissed off.

“I can’t sleep”

“So? Go home and snuggle with your teddy bear”

“Can’t I just stay here?”

“Why?”

“My dad’s out travelling, and I don’t know… I just wanted to be here for some reason”

“Fine. Come in”, I say, while rolling my eyes.

“Are your parents home?”

“My dad lives somewhere in Europe, and my mom isn’t home”

“Cool”, he says, while taking off his leather jacket. He puts it on the couch, and then we go upstairs to my room. He looks at all my drawings, that are hanging on the wall.

“Are they yours?”, he says, while looking intense at them.

“Yeah”, I say. I lay down in the bed again. I’m way too tired. David walks around in my room, looking through everything inside out. I just lay there, watching his every move. If only his inside was his looks. He would be so ugly, but he’s not. Too bad.

“What’s this?”, he says, holding my fuck-book in his hand. Quickly, I get up from the bed.

“Don’t look at that!”, I say, while trying to get it back. He holds it over my head. His other hand is blocking my hands, and I’m stuck. I still try to fight him. He runs to the bed, and opens it.

“My fuck-book”, he says out loud. I run after him, but then he jumps down from the bed, and runs downstairs into the living room. I follow.

“Give it back!”, I scream, while trying to keep up. He runs around the table, and I stand on the other side of it.

“List of who I fucked, list of who I want to fuck, list of exes who I fucked, timeline with who I fucked”, he reads up from the book. I’m so embarrassed.

“Don’t!”, I shout, and run after him. He runs upstairs again. I try to follow, but then I give up.

“So who do you want to fuck, Mary?”, he says loudly. I panic. That’s the list, that I just don’t want him to look at.

“Please just don’t. I’m too tired for this, David”, I say, totally ruined by the stairs. He laughs.

“I’m surprised, that Fred isn’t in here, unless you’ve already had sex with him”, he says suspicious and turns the page.

“Fred and I… We’re just friends”

“Guys and girls can’t be just friends without sex or something”

“Not everyone is like you”

“Nope, but you are, or at least according to this book you are”, he says, looking down at it again. I give up. I don’t even wanna try to get it back. He can invade my private life. I don’t care.

“I’m nothing like you”, I say. He walks towards me, and then he closes the book.

“But you do want to fuck me”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up”, he says, and then he lifts his hand. Slowly he touches my cheek, and strokes his hand along my shoulder. I get lost in how it feels, that I for a moment forget, who he is, and what he has done, but then I look up and remember, that it’s him again.

“Maybe you should…”, I try to finish talking, but then he leans in, and our noses touch. He smiles, and our lips meet. He lowers his hands from my back to my ass, and I lift up his shirt. He throws the book away and pushes me down in the bed. 

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