Despair

He Thinks He's Being Funny.

Today was quiet.

We had Biology and Ian didn't say another word to me— good. That was... good. Then I headed home and that was the end of that. I immediately got yelled at by my sister for not having cleaned my room by the time Mom came back from work, and that was before I could even close the freaking door behind me. 

Bitch.

Mom did get mad, but I didn't scream at her. If you're wondering about my dad— don't. I don't know where he is and I don't care.

I blasted music into my earbuds as usual, picked up some papers, the pencils my uncle got me for my birthday and started drawing. It calms me. But sometimes it doesn't, sometimes I end up pushing the tip of the pencil too much or coloring too fast, and it breaks. Then I tear up the paper and generally break the pencil. But not this one. It's expensive and I like it.

"Mom says that it's your turn to make dinner," Chloe screeches, walking into my bedroom without knocking.

"Get the f**k out of my room," I snarl, but all she does is stand at the doorway and cross her arms at me. 

"It's your turn, you're not gonna get out of it this time," she keeps on squawking. "If you're not gonna clean up the dumpster you choose to live in, then at least do that."

"Are you deaf and blind? I'm busy," I spit out, drawing exaggerated circles with my palms over my notepad to make my point.

"No, you're not," she insists, coming closer, and I tightly shut my eyes because I can't shove her the f**k away. She's tiny. "That's not homework."

"Jesus, get the f**k out!" I scream it out this time. "I'll do it when I'm done, okay?! You don't have to be on my ass about it every single time."

And there she is, shocked, apparently, letting out a bitter chuckle of disbelief that makes me want to choke her with a pillow. I won't, though— I hope.

"You have issues, dude," she murmurs before finally leaving. Brand f*****g news!

I sigh and set up an alarm so I can start boiling the water for pasta around the time I'm supposed to. I slip my earbuds back in, hit play on my #drawing How To Draw Hands PART TWO! video and right then, my phone buzzes.

Save Your Tears by The Weeknd

(17:00) hey Oliver!

(17:00) it's Ian ?

I frown at it. The f**k?

(17:05) who the hell gave u my phone number?

(17:06) uhh... you're in the project's group chat ?

Kill me.

(17:07) right

(17:08) what do u want

(17:08) I just wanted to remind you that you still have to figure out exercise F.1 and the due date is tomorrow? ?

(17:09) FUCK

(17:09) you forgot?! ?

(17:10) why didn't u tell me TODAY IN CLASS dick

(17:11) wow 

(17:11) are you kidding me?! I'm being nice by reminding you at all! ?

Oh, shut up. 'Being nice'. If he hadn't done his little silence treatment bullshit, I would have done it in recess or something.

(17:12) well I guess we're failing

Another spot to the leopard or a stripe to the tiger or whatever.

(17:12) too bad

(17:12) ?

I just stare at the stupid... blushy face. What... What does that even—

(17:13) WHAT

(17:13) ur gonna be a little b***h and tell the teacher it's my fault like last time?

(17:14) I was actually going to say I'll do your part then ?

Oh.

(17:14) bullshit

(17:15) do you want me to do it or not? ?

I don't want to owe him anything, but now I have no time left since I have to cook and—

(17:15) fine

(17:16) say thanks ?

(17:16) f**k you

(17:17) ?

Ugh. Ugh. Don't break the good pencils, don't break the good pencils.

(17:17) thanks

(17:17) ?

(17:17) shut up.

(17:17) I didn't say anything ?

(17:17) stop texting me

I stare at the phone and nothing comes, so I refresh the chat a few times because the Wi-Fi in this house sucks but no— still nothing.

(17:18) send it when it's done

(17:19) ??

I scoff softly, resting my cheek on my fist and going back to my drawing. He thinks he's being funny, what an... i***t.