Page 3 of My Rules for Revenge
I, on the other hand, would “politely” yell at them to get behind me and would threaten to turn their skin inside out, especially if, after I had asked the person nicely, they had deliberately chosen to ignore me.
One time, this actually occurred, and I was asked to leave by the manager. I only complied because I knew she was just doing her job, but I still waited outside for the white girl wearing a tank top to come out, and once she did, I proceeded to throw a cup of ice-cold water in her face. She screamed, I laughed, and my reputation was upheld. For a while, my story went viral on social media, and I became a meme template. The next time my “story” went viral wasn’t as pleasant.
At the grocery store, I was reading my book while I walked alongside my mom. I had tunnel vision as I bumped against a fruit stand and almost knocked it over.
“Oh, damn,” I exclaimed.
“Heather, language,” Michelle scolded. That’s my mom’s name. Sometimes I called her by her name to make her mad.
“Sorry. Bananas were in my way,” I explained.
“Can you help me get the groceries?”
“I’m reading.”
“I know that, but I brought you along so you could help me,” she clarified.
“Really?”
“Heather!”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” I put my book away and began picking things out for her to buy. I showed her fruit snacks, ice cream, chips, and beer. She almost gagged on her own tongue on that last one. I tried to explain to her that in Europe, kids began drinking at the age of fourteen, but she wasn’t having it. I didn’t give up, though. I really wanted something to eat.
I showed her a package of chocolate bars.
“Can we have this?”I asked nicely.
“No,” she replied.
“Why not?” I whined.
“Wait. What is that?”
“Mom, it’s chocolate. You can’t tell?”
“Oh, it looks delicious,” she affirmed, while licking her lips.
“Can we have it?”
“No.”
I let out a loud “ugh” in frustration and returned it. I picked out a box of caramelized apples, which looked absolutely divine.
“Mom, this? It’s low carb.”
“How is that low carb?”
“It says it,” I assured her.
“Heather, how much is that?”
“I’ll pay for it,” I offered.
“Heather, you don’t have any money.”
“Can you give me some money?” I asked politely.
“No.”
