Page 8 of Bad Kind of Love

Tearing at the polka dot paper, I lift up the top of the box revealing a light blue wash jean jacket. It looked two sizes too big for me, but that’s exactly how I liked my clothes. Baggy and concealing. “Thank you.” I peer up, giving her a thankful smirk. “But you didn’t have to get me this.” I shake my head, placing the box onto the arm of the couch.

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” She smiles warmly. “Plus, it was on sale and looked like something you’d wear.”

I had to give it to her though, she had good taste in clothes. Not just because she was a fashion stylist for a living, because some of those people just plainly sucked at it, but because she knew everyone had a different style.

“Still.” I sigh, gnawing at my bottom lip. I always felt uncomfortable when she splurged on getting me things. I wasn’t her kid or her problem, yet she treated me like I was her own.

“Stop.” She rests her single hand on my shoulder. “What did I tell you about overthinking?”

“I know, I just wish...” I stare down at my black painted toes.

“We all wish your parents weren’t shit bags, but they are. And it’s not your fault.” She interrupts my train of thought. “I took you in, and I made the commitment to provide for you and give you things you deserve. So please, stop feeling guilty about accepting gifts or anything from me.”

Feeling a slight twitch of my mouth, I reluctantly give in and nod. “Fine, but one day I’m going to pay you back for everything.” I promised.

“No, you’re not.” She shook my shoulder. “I took you in knowing I had to buy you everything. If anyone should pay me back, it should be your father.” She says straight faced, but a small laugh escapes her lips. “But who am I kidding? He’d end up in prison again trying to get the money to pay me back.”

Joining in, I laugh with her even if it was a jab on my dad. “I better get to bed.” I motion upstairs. “Thank you again for the jacket. I love it.”

“Yea, of course.” She removes her hand from my shoulder. “Sleep good.”

Turning on my heel, I twist my head around to give her one last thankful smile before sprinting up the stairs to my bedroom. As I enter my poorly lit room, I immediately flick on the dangly lights that hang behind my headboard and throw myself on the top of my bed.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling, a bout of exhaustion soon comes over me. Not just physically but mentally too. Could I really last one more year of school, and of a shitty job with even shittier pay?

Still dressed in my ugly uniform, I slowly peel myself off the bed and strip out of my clothes. Reaching into my dresser drawer, I pull out a cream-colored tank and throw it on over my bare chest and leave on just my black panties. Once I was dressed comfortably, I jumped back into bed and buried myself under the soft comforter.

Sighing, I reach for my black chunky headphones and place them over my head. Letting the music take over, I slowly succumb to breathy words and close my eyes.

One day I wasn’t going to have to worry about school, or dread walking into work. One day, I was going to get the fuck out of this town and never look back.

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