Page 54 of The Blue Rose
Toby is Jess’s flavor of the week. She can never stick with one guy, and after a week, a new one replaces the last. They are always in rotation, fully aware of Jess’s pattern, and don’t care in the slightest how she fucks and dumps them. She literally fucks them all week, every day, even at school, then come Friday, she’s already fucking the next. She is the school's whore, but she somehow bears that title with her head held high.
She acts like it doesn't bother her, but I know it does. I see the way her face falls, and her knuckles turn white, from squeezing her fingers so hard, when other girls cough into their hands, calling her a slut everytime they walk by. I mean, they’re not wrong since her legs open for literally anyone, but they could have more class about it and say it straight to her face. One of these days, I know she is going to snap, and when she does, I have a feeling it will be taken out on me.
Jess places me in the chair in front of her vanity and stands behind me, pulling my cheeks up and back.
“See how beautiful you would be if you lost a couple pounds?”
Staring at my reflection, I can’t help but agree with her. I know she is insulting me, I know she’s doing it because of what happened with Tony, but she isn’t wrong. I’ve been a biggergirl my whole life, and I know if I put down the ice cream and picked up a salad, maybe I would be happier. At least I’d be skinny and beautiful just like Jessica.
She lets go and pulls my hair into a ponytail. Grabbing the bag of clothes I brought, she starts to lay everything out.
“All your clothes are hideous, but you can’t fit into mine.” She taps her chin, groaning as she prances back to the vanity. “I can work with what we have, but first we need to cover your face with makeup.” She takes out her foundation, shaking it in my face. “Lucky for you, we’re the same complexion.”
The makeup all over my face feels foreign. Heavy.Do people really do this every day?I don’t know why I am getting dressed up for a boy.Jessica says he’s interested in me. Me of all people.Can I believe her?It’s probably a rumor. No one ever turns their head to look at me. No one ever watches me or imagines doing anything with me. I’m the quiet big girl who likes art, who escapes in it, who just happens to be best friends with the school whore.
One time a boy did talk to me, and I remember being so excited. He saw me, he was actually flirting with me, and I went through my whole day feeling on top of the world. Until I heard him later with his friends saying if I’m friends with Jessica, then I must be a whore, too. He bragged about how he couldn’t wait to get into the fat girl’s pants.
Jessica overheard too, and as I was standing there, weeping, she went right over to him and slapped him across the face.
“No one speaks about my best friend that way,” she hissed, spitting in his face. I was so shocked, I thought I was in the twilight zone. Until she walked back over, linked her arms in mine, and said,
“No one treats you like that and gets away with it, except me.”
I slipped out of her arms and ran to the bathroom to cry. She didn’t follow.
“There! All done.”
I look up into the mirror and stare at my reflection. I don’t know how she did it, but she made me look like a literal Disney Princess. She hid my double chin, and highlighted my chubby cheeks, accentuating them. I don't recognize the person staring back at me, she radiates the confidence I try so hard to wear.
“Oh my God, Serena, what's wrong?” Jess screams, gripping my shoulders.
I don’t know what she means, until I feel wetness running down my cheeks.
Swiping the tears away, I whisper, “I’m beautiful.”
“Oh, is that all?” Jess says as she sits herself on the bed. “Of course you are, I made you.”
“My mom and dad made me, actually.”
I regret saying it as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“You know what I mean, and if you’re going to be a bitch,” she sneers, walking back over and lifting my hair. “You can finish your hair and pick your own outfit.”
“I’m sorry, I know what you meant.” I look back at her. “You. Made. Me,” I say, biting out every word, knowing the only way to salvage this is to apologize and tell her she’s right.
I hate bowing down to her. I hate succumbing to her constant put downs and being a yes woman, but I know if I want to stay on her good side, hurting and vicious as she is, then I need to become one of her many slaves; sitting when she says sit, and doing her bidding when ordered.
Her eyes spark with triumph, thrilled she got me to bow so easily. Jess loves to remind me shechoseme out of everyone, that I am special.Special my ass.I’m just insecure, and no one wanted to be my friend. She saw that, she took her chance and sunk her claws down deep.
I’ve been trapped ever since.
One day, I will escape this hell of a friendship. One day, I will no longer be her slave. One day, she will be the bitch at my feet begging me to stay as I walk away.
But that day isn’t today, so I relent and apologize. She kisses my cheek, leaving behind her signature pink lips. I swipe the mark away with my thumb as she begins curling my hair.
Finally, after three hours, we are done, and she has me standing at her mirror, her hands over my eyes, my nerves buzzing, and relief washing over me that I can finally go home.
“One. Two. Three!” She says with a little too much enthusiasm, releasing her hands so I can look at myself.
