Obsessed

Chapter 2

Tap. Tap. Tap. The rain outside beats against the window pane, creating droplets.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The classroom was dim, with classmates pouring in and taking their seats next to their friends.

“Hey, Hallie.” Kayla sat in her corresponding seat next to me, placing her book bag by her feet. She was beautiful, with long black locs, caramel skin, and eye-catching Brown eyes.

“Howdy,” I replied. Looking up at her, she had her phone in her hand, probably texting away at her new boy toy of the week. Kayla was never about safety and never had a reason to be about safety. With her 25-year-old boyfriend and sneaking out at 2 a.m. every night, karma has yet to keep up with her.

The rest of the class went by in a blur, ending the lecture with a 2-page essay I had to complete.

“Have you found out what you're going to wear to Chrissy’s party this weekend? I just bought this short black dress and it fits everything just right. I think Kaleb is going to love it.” Kayla plastered a smile on her face, pearly whites gleaming in the hallway light.

Rolling my eyes, I looked at her, “Probably going to wear something comfy, comfortable first, practical later.” Giggling, she gave me a light punch on my shoulder.

Chrissy Lemoine always threw the biggest parties. Always filled with every liquor the heart could desire and someone always ended up passed out in her neatly manicured lawn.

Leaving the building, I followed the rush of students flowing from the doors, making sure to see if anyone was lingering where they shouldn't. Once secured, I hopped into my car and waited for Kayla to follow behind.

After 15 minutes, I pulled into my house and locked my car. Kayla got out on her side, grabbed her bag, and began her walk to her house.

“Bye, Hallie,” she waved, her legs making long strides toward her house, just two spaces over from mine.

Unlocking my door, I walked inside, the smell of cinnamon wafting into my senses.

Following the scent, it was traced to a candle on the kitchen island, with a note.

Have to work late, dinner is in the crockpot.

Love you,

Mom and mama.

Rolling my eyes, I crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. Mom always worked late. She was a lawyer at one of the top firms in SoCal. That's how she became my mom, coming to her at the ripe age of 12 years old, begging her to take my case.

Everyone else had thrown me out, laughing at me.

“Are you insane? You're a child. You're lucky I don't recommend a reunification camp.” The grumpy woman stared at me, eyebrows scrunched together. Could she not see how skinny I was? Did she not believe a mother could do this to her child?

Shivering, I headed up the glass stairs of our house. Yawning, I opened the door to my bedroom. I had a wide window that overlooked the California mountains, with a queen-platform bed smack dab in the middle of my room.

Closing my eyes, I lay down, allowing myself to fall into the sweet abyss of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, my eyelids opened, noting the dark sky outside. Groaning, I turned over, looking at my ceiling. Building the courage, I undressed and stared at my reflection in my mirror.

Tugging at my thighs, I sighed. 5 more pounds. I walked into my bathroom, not before grabbing a warm towel from my machine.

I succumbed to the warm water of the shower. Pushing the water through my hair, I let out a deep breath.

There's so much I would change. I knew my 18-year-old body wouldn't look like my 12-year-old body, but man, I wish I could love it.

Cutting my shower short, I got out and retreated to my room. Connecting to my Bluetooth speaker, I began to dance around my room, naked body and all. Dr. Cram recommended it.

I threw my arms up, swinging my head back and forth. Until I saw something. Behind the tree in my backyard stood a shadow. Pausing the song, I looked closer, but the shadow was no longer there.

With the mood kill, I threw on my pajamas, a white tank with loose sweats hanging off my round hips.

What the hell was that?