The Blue Rose

18. Serena

EIGHTEEN

SERENA

I t wasn’t my intention to leave him like that, but after he said he could go one more time, I was scared. I take a deep breath, one hand on the steering wheel the other out the window. He already fucked me into oblivion, and the idea of not being able to walk straight for a week did not seem as fun as it does in the books. That, and he deserved a little pay back.

After all, revenge is best served cold.

He said he was sorry, but if he was truly sorry he wouldn’t have made me feel insecure again. He says all these pretty words, but with the way he acted twice now, his actions aren’t lining up. I wanted so badly to tell him to fuck off, to leave the market and go home. But when he was standing there, kissing me, leaving me breathless, clearly my pussy was doing all the thinking, because next thing I knew I was following behind him to his house.

Needy cunt… but damn, was it good.

He said he was breaking all the rules for me. What does that even mean? I keep meaning to ask him, but my curiosity for his little lamb pet name won over my curiosity for the rules.

Next thing I know, I’m on my knees, tears streaming down my face as I obey what he says. He just has a way about him that makes a girl get on her knees when he demands it. I chew on my lip, thinking about my lips around his cock. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, because fuck I did. The feel of his cock down my throat, cutting off my air supply, was orgasmic. But looking up at the pleasure it was bringing him , was what really took me over the edge.

Pulling into my house, I turn off the car, and stumble in. Even without another round, I’m going to feel Aster between my thighs tomorrow. Jessica is laying on the couch, feet dangling off the arm, with a bag of hot cheetos resting on her chest, stuffing her face.

“Hey, I got your text,” she says through another fistful of chips.

I walk over, pick up her legs, and place them across my lap. Throwing my head back, I sigh as my body melts into the couch. Jess tenses, placing the bag on the table beside her as she sits up and scoots closer.

“What’s got you so worked up?” she asks, rubbing my leg.

I look over at her, close my eyes, and sigh. “Aster,” I turn and look into her honey eyes, my brows furrowing the longer I look at her. “How did you get here? Where is your car?”

“I took an Uber, the car is in the shop.”

One eyebrow goes up as I eye her suspiciously. “You didn’t drive here last time either, what’s going on?”

“You’re avoiding telling me what Aster did this time,” she says, crossing her arms.

“You’re avoiding telling me why you never drive here anymore,” I snort, mimicking her, as I cross my arms too.

She looks at me, concern lacing her features. “Serena, you know why.”

I stare at her, my head tilting to the side. What does she mean? A stabbing pain in my head stops everything. My ears ring. My vision blurs. My stomach roils.

My body lurches forward, my hands pressing into my temples. My eyes pinch shut, as if that would ease the burning, the agony within my mind. I scream, my throat already raw and brittle. It isn’t until I feel Jess shake my body, shouting my name, that the pain evaporates.

Sitting up slowly, the room spinning as I look over to Jess whose eyes are wide with concern.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a quiet voice.

I rub the spot of my head banishing the final echoes of pain. “Yeah. I don’t know what happened.” My eyes meet hers, my breaths shallow. “Maybe I need to go lay down.”

“Maybe you do.” She gets up, offering me her hand, and walks me to my room. She lays me down in the bed, and gets in to snuggle up next to me.

“Want to watch a movie?” she asks, grabbing the remote from my nightstand.

“Sure,” I say, laying my head on her shoulder.

She turns on one of our favorites, embracing the cult classic and admittedly unusual comfort movie, It . I prefer the new one to the original, but Jess loves Tim Curry. Don’t get me wrong, he is a genius actor in everything he does, my favorite role being Rocky Horror Picture Show , but Bill Skarsgard is the very embodiment of Pennywise. No one can convince me otherwise.

The beginning of the movie starts to play and I get up, making Jess pause the movie.

“Where are you going?” she asks, the remote still suspended in the air.

I flip the covers over, a soft smile on my lips as I turn to look back at her. “To get some movie snacks, keep playing the movie, I’ll be right back.”

Handing her the snacks, I get back under the covers next to her. She passes me the Red Vines, one already hanging from her mouth, and presses play. We lay snuggled up, enjoying the comfort of one another. Halfway through the movie, I feel my eyes drift close, letting sleep take me.

The sky turned dark, as clouds roll in, the first sign of the impending storm. I stare out at the brewing chaos from my school desk, watching the first drops pelt my window. Watching two race to reach the bottom, a quiet calm settling over me. Just as I’m about to see which will win, a voice creepily whispers in my ear.

“Whatcha watching?”

Jumping up, I yelp, whirling around to glare at Jess, “I was watching to see which raindrop was going to win the race,” I say, pointing at the window.

She looks at the window, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re so weird, Serena,” she quips, sliding onto my desk, and crossing her perfectly toned legs one over the other.

What I wouldn't give to have her legs, to have her body. The boys just flock to her, following her every demand. She says sit, they sit. She says run, they run. Hell. I’m sure if she told them to jump off of a bridge, they would do it. She is a goddess, and they are her servants. At least, that is what she calls them. Classless, but if they choose to kiss the ground she walks on, who am I to object.

She’ll crush them eventually, like she does to everyone.

Leaning down, Jess whispers in my ear, “I heard Tony was going to ask you to prom.”

Peeling my eyes from the rain, I look over at her, my pulse quickening, and my mouth hangs open in utter silence. There is no way the star quarterback is asking me to the prom. He is obsessed with Jess, as are all men. I thought to him, to everyone, I was just her sidekick. The girl she is friends with just to make herself seem nicer than she is. That is what everyone snickers about anytime they see us together. It is all they have said since we were kids, and it’s only gotten worse since highschool. Me gaining more weight, and less confidence. Jessica getting prettier, and more cruel. It has to be a lie. There is no way Tony is actually into me.

Jess places two fingers under my chin, shutting my mouth, then turning around to jump off the desk. “I know, I was just as shocked as you.” She looks back over her shoulder as she walks away. “I thought he was another one of my servants, turns out he has the hots for my best friend.”

She turns around and slams her palms onto my desk, making me jump once again. “You know what that means, right?” She asks, jealousy dripping off her tongue. I shake my head slowly, confused at her anger. She clicks her tongue, leaning in close, and says, “I was wrong, and you know I’m never wrong. How could I be wrong about Tony, of all people?” She places her hands behind her back, and paces around looking at me up and down as if I’m nothing more than something to study under a lens.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a rumor, Jess,” I say, digging my nails into my palms, making her pacing stop. “There is no way the star quarterback is into me.” I hate having to comfort her when she already has the whole school at her mercy. If I don’t show my indifference to such a big comment, she will make this whole situation worse. So, I bite my tongue and give her what she wants. My insecurities.

“You’re probably right,” she says, plopping into the seat next to me.

Ouch. That hurt. I shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable with her so worked up.

She turns, a cocky smile lifting her cheeks. “But just in case you’re wrong, which you usually are, we need to get you looking better than,” she motions to my outfit, her lip curling. “Than that.”

I look down at my clothes, pulling at my band tee, and my torn up blue jeans. They’re comfy, and this was the concert we went to together last month.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I ask, leveling my eyes with hers.

“Only everything, if you’re going to say yes to Tony asking you to prom, you can’t look like, well, you.”

I should be used to her insults, the words she claims aren’t meant to hurt the way they do, by now, especially given how long we’ve been friends, but I’m not. Each word she throws my way is always laced in venom, and it stings just the same.

I turn my back on her, blinking back the tears I feel threatening to fall. I will not cry . Her words are just that. Words, I have the power to let them hurt me or fall off me. I know from experience if I don’t seem upset after she insults me, the next words leaving her lips will be even worse than the first, so I always make myself seem hurt and upset, even if I lie to myself and say they don’t, which makes her back off. That is just how she is. She is the only friend I have, so I take it.

I don't want to be alone.

I hear her mirror snap shut, the smacking of her lips as she checks her lipstick. She places a hand on my shoulder, and sighs, “Serena, you know I love you, and I don’t want to upset you, but you know I’ll never lie to you either.”

Before turning around I sniffle and wipe my eyes. When our eyes lock, I see the glint in hers, the happiness my pain brings her, just for a second, before she pretends to be concerned.

“I know, Jess, I love you, too.” I force myself to say the last three words. If I don’t, things will get ugly fast.

She claps her hands and jumps out of her seat. “Great! Meet me at my house after school.” She starts to walk away, but stops at the door and shouts so everyone else in the class can hear. “Bring your clothes! You know mine don’t fit you. Don't worry, we will give you the makeover you need. Tootles.” I shrink down into my seat, feeling all the eyes on me, and this time I do cry.

Walking up the steps to Jess’s house, my hand tightens around the bag of clothes, I brace my knuckles against the door, and on the third knock I’m yanked inside by an over eager Jessica.

“Stop dragging your fat feet, Serena and move! We don’t have much time, I have plans after this with Toby, but I made time for you,” Jess says, dragging me to her room and slamming us inside.

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 bigger girl 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 she chose me 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.

Staring back at me is someone I don’t recognize. That can’t be me. That person is stunning. She is confident, her head held high, as she turns to admire herself. I reach up, cupping my cheek, admiring my own reflection. The long lashes glued to my eyes. The perfect cat eye eyeliner with a subtle smokey eye. The black dress Jess chose is hugging the upper part of my chest, showing off my breast. Squeezing the dip in my sides and flowing down past my knees, hiding the muffin top I hate so much.

My hands trace my curves as my eyes follow them all the way down to my waist. Turning around, my eyes bulge at how amazing my ass looks. My ass has never looked this good . I grab and shake it. No jiggle. I would describe my ass as round and big, but pitted, kind of like cottage cheese. My mom says I had her ass when she was my age, she says cellulite is normal and no matter what, I am beautiful. I turn back around to Jessica and, without thinking, hug her so tight, she gasps, thanking her for the magic she performed on me.

She pushes me away, claiming I’ll ruin her energy by tainting her. I refuse to let her words bother me, choosing to let them brush off me. Not even Jessica can ruin this high I am feeling.

Jess pushes me out the door, eager to spend time with Toby, instructing me how to sleep tonight so I don’t ruin what she created. I know I won’t be able to replicate Jess’ talent so I stay up all night for fear of smudging one perfect line on my face.

The next morning I find a note in my locker telling me to meet Tony behind the bleachers on the football field before school starts with a heart at the end. I squeeze the letter to my chest, excitement washing down the nerves I feel.

I make my way over, dressed and looking just as Jessica made me last night, excited and hopeful my luck might be changing. Maybe this is real. Maybe this wasn’t a rumor. Maybe the star football player really is going to ask me, of all people, to prom.

Walking behind the bleachers, I stop dead in my tracks, dropping the note I clutched to my heart.

Standing a few feet away, I see Tony, gripping Jessica's ass, making out with her. Dropping my eyes lower, I can see his dick hardening. It’s not even Friday. I grind my teeth so hard I feel like they’re about to crack. The pain from the little half moon indents from pressing my nails into my palm starts to fade as the anger starts to bubble over. Jessica opens her eyes, looking dead into mine. I swear I can see her smile for a second. She pushes Tony away and acts surprised.

I know she isn’t surprised.

As if noticing me for the first time, Tony glances at me, and scratches the back of his head, then tells me to leave as he suggestively pulls Jess into his chest. Like he didn’t just invite me to meet him here.

Oh. My. God.

I stumble back and start running, tears streaming down my face. Jessica screams after me, telling me, no, demanding me to stop. I don't listen. Instead, I run up to the roof, the one place I know Jessica won’t follow.

The janitor, who also happens to be my uncle, gave me a key to the roof. He knows how my relationship is with Jessica, and after begging and failing to dump her as a friend, he gave me a place to escape to, when it becomes too hard. No one knows about my secret place; it is solely mine. Jessica has tried to follow me once or twice, but I always lose her. She takes it out on me later, mad that I won’t tell her where I go, but she will not taint the one place that I find solace.

How could she do this to me? She told me he was going to ask me to prom. She gave me a makeover, making me look unrecognizable. She turned me into a version of her. She had this planned from the beginning. I am fuming, gripping my hair, ruining the curls she made. This goes way past making fun of me, way past giving me backhanded compliments and using me as her personal ego trampoline. She crossed the line. She lied to me. Got my hopes up. Wrote a fake note. For what? All to make me see her with a guy I thought actually wanted me? What the fuck is wrong with her? I’m pacing back and forth, my hands shaking. My heart hurts. I can’t catch my breath.

Kids are just now entering school, shuffling inside and I drop to my knees and let out a guttural scream. I release every single emotion I have been bottling up for so long, and silence descends on the parking lot.

Jessica will pay. She will not get away with this. This time, I will rain down hell. I am no longer her puppet, and she is going to rue the day she did this to me. I will end her.

Fuck. Her.

My head is pounding when I wake up, the sun making me squint and groan as my head throbs harder. I reach over, patting to wake up Jessica, almost excited to tell her about the crazy dream I had. But when I turn my head, after feeling an empty bed, I realize she’s gone.

Still half asleep, rubbing my eyes, I get out of bed and walk around the house calling her name. When I don’t get an answer back, I head back to my room and grab my phone. Looking at my notifications, there is only one text, and it isn’t from Jessica.

Aster

Meet me at my house tonight. Making you dinner

Serena

What time?

I need to call Jess. This isn’t the most unusual thing she’s done, but I hope she’s okay. She just keeps disappearing and showing up randomly, and I’m starting to become concerned. The first ring sounds in my ear when I get another text from Aster, like he’s been waiting for my response all morning.

Aster

7 and don’t be late, or I will punish you

I don’t bother responding, still a little salty about him ghosting me, and I feel like being petty and leaving him on read is the only fair response. Let’s see how he feels when he doesn’t get an answer.

I don’t bother finding out where Jessica went. She probably got an Uber home and will call me later. My head still pounds, and I can’t worry about Jess. She’s always done what she wants. I know she’ll be okay. Instead, I take a couple Advil and go to my art room to paint.

What was that dream about? I don’t remember Jessica ever treating me in such a cruel way, but something about it feels familiar. The way she acted, the things she said, all of it gives me deja vu. Surely my mind must be playing a cruel joke on me. There is no way Jessica would ever do and say such intentionally hurtful things. She’s been my cheerleader, my rock, for as long as I can remember. Sure, she can be stuck up at times, and her overly confident ways can come off arrogant, but that girl in the dream wasn’t my Jessica. No, it had to be a Jessica from an alternate universe or something.

Still not completely convinced the dream was just a dream, I throw on my paint apron and let the colors take all the fear, all the anxiety, all the hurt, and turn it into something beautiful.