Chapter 45 – Clover
Chapter Forty-Five
Clover
I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.
I feel like a dramatic teenage girl for hating myself and having the thought pounding in my head, but it’s true.
I hate myself for everything I said to Thomas and I hate myself for keeping those stupid sunflowers even after everything I told him.
I don’t have a right to those sunflowers.
He got them because he knows they’re my favorite.
Everyone comes to my room to get ready for the Halloween party.
Molly says she isn’t coming to the party until later so she can get homework done, so she declined my offer to get ready with us.
Kit may be an annoying pain in the ass, but at least he doesn’t care that everyone at his party is ‘cool’ or on a sports team.
He invited everyone personally, even the “loser kids” he bullies.
He just wants everyone in the year to have fun — and he wants to keep sexually harassing me, which appears to still be one of his favorite hobbies.
At least at the DJ booth, I have a platform I can shove him off of if he tries touching my butt.
Again. I know I could get Thomas to make him stop, but I can’t imagine
At least with my group of girls around me, we can fend him off when the actual party begins. My fake fight in the dining hall with Thomas went well. It helps that we were actually pissed off at each other. Sylvia had a script for me and keeps pointing out how we both went off script.
I called him a gangly freak and he told me I had an attitude worse than a sunburnt hippopotamus.
That is not a word you want a British man to call you.
It sounds like a worse insult in that stupid posh British accent.
When I start throwing books at his head, Sylvia makes a big show of breaking up our fight, but I scream a very genuine “I hate you” at Thomas Bainbridge.
Still — there are sunflowers on my desk and at night, whenever I hear a noise outside, I run to my window as if I would really appreciate a tall boy climbing up to keep me company.
I told Molly about the fight and she assures me that Thomas isn’t worth my time.
She suggests that I date Roger — you know, from the dance team.
He’s straight, she points out, which is a good point, but I’d like to think my standards are a little higher than a boy just being straight.
My standards should be higher than Thomas Bainbridge too.
Who am I kidding? He would be miles better than any guy I’ve ever let kiss me.
He’s the most handsome guy I’ve kissed, but I don’t want his arrogant ass to know that.
We just need to nab this spicy freak and we can get out of each other’s lives forever.
We can’t seem to stop fighting or letting our feelings for each other drive us fucking crazy.
Kola enters my bedroom first, carrying our costumes from the mailroom.
We ordered everything together on her account so we could get the 30% off discount in time for Halloween.
No one here does homemade costumes, so at least that part is similar to life back in California.
I was afraid I would have to become a goddess of arts and craft when I can barely get a Post-It note to stick to my desk.
I’m more of a dancer than that sort of creative.
“These leotards had better make my ass look good,” Kola grunts as she throws the heavy box with costumes and accessories onto my bed. “Let’s unwrap these.”
Sylvia’s at her nurse’s appointment for another fifteen minutes to get approval for attending the party so Kola and I get our first preview of our “sexy three blind mice” costume.
We picked it out of a jar when we couldn’t agree on a costume for three best friends.
Sylvia really wanted to be Scooby-Doo but we both thought it would be weird as hell if she really sat there dressed up like a dog while Kola and I dressed as humans.
So now we’re going as sexy mice. My mom would love the costume.
I’m wearing black pantyhose under mine so I don’t have to dress too revealing.
I agreed to do the sexy thing for my friends, but I’d still be more comfortable in a tall t-shirt and sweatpants.
My mom treats Halloween like Christmas, so I’ve gone out of my way to ignore her calls so she doesn’t try to dress me up in a thong or send her a pic for the family social media account. Kola rifles through the box for the accessories.
“Where the hell are the tails?!” She shrieks.
They’re already on the bed. I hold them up triumphantly and search for my leotard.
Kola wears the large size because of her boobs and height, Sylvia and I are both mediums, although when I hold the medium leotard up, I suddenly feel self conscious.
Is my whole ass supposed to fit in this?
I don’t want to look like a hoe. I hope my tights are enough to cover my butt up.
Kola pulls out the sunglasses and puts on a pair.
“How do I look? Thomas said he thought the costume idea was sexy.”
My cheeks grow instantly warm. I try to act all casual about them talking. In fake dating, they have what seems like a real friendship. I don’t care or anything, but it’s weird to hear about Kola and Thomas hanging out alone. In public. Holding hands.
“He said that?”
Maybe he’s finally moved on from me. Kola has a way better body and she’s never hit him in the torso with a cricket bat. He doesn’t want to date a bitch like me.
“Uh huh,” Kola says. “Our fake relationship is getting pretty serious.”
“Great.”
Ugh. I sound jealous and fake, which definitely isn’t what I’m going for.
She’s my best friend and this is all a part of our plan.
I shouldn’t sound all surprised and messed up over it.
I glance at the sunflowers. They’re still alive.
Barely. I need to chill. I had my chance with Thomas Bainbridge.
He spilled his heart out to me and I told him to fuck off.
He doesn’t want to deal with a fuck up like me.
Kola takes the sunglasses off and starts stripping to dress in the costume.
Hell, I’d better start changing too. As we’re changing, I can’t help but notice how good she looks from dancing.
I’m all pudgy in the wrong places but Kola has curves made for social media.
Thomas probably likes her curves. He squeezed my hips like he was holding on for dear life and Kola has hips most women would kill for.
Plus, she’s sweet. I’m not. She has a flat stomach and mine sticks out with weird ass pooch.
This is the worst feeling to have before squeezing myself into a leotard. I hate that I feel like shit.
I unbutton the leotard and climb in after dressing in my leggings, slowly working the buttons up the front of my body, feeling worse and worse as I struggle to get myself inside. Kola gets into hers, but her leotard still pushes her boobs together so they’re practically spilling out.
“Is this too slutty?”
I shake my head. She looks damn good. Any guy who saw her tonight would be crazy not to try to go for her. She throws on the sunglasses and grabs her cane out of the box. “How do I look?”
Before I can tell her that she looks fucking amazing, Sylvia bursts into my bedroom.
“I’m still slightly concussed and finally approved to partayyyyy!
” Sylvia says, turning up her typical cheer.
We all dance around excitedly. This is our first party in ages and school has been kicking all our asses.
Spicy freak hasn’t stopped sending creepy messages, but no more threats.
Nothing. It feels like we can actually let go tonight for a change and that for once, our plan will work.
Once we all dress, Sylvia demands ‘intelligence’ on Kola and Thomas’ fake relationship.
“We’ve had breakfast together every day this week,” Kola says. “And he kissed me outside of math. He is such a good kisser.”
I feel like someone punched me in the side of my head. They kissed? I didn’t know kissing was part of the plan. I didn’t know fake relationships included kissing. But of course they did.
“Ew!” Sylvia says. “Don’t tell me about kissing Thomas.”
“He’s the first white guy I ever kissed,” Kola continues excitedly. “I thought he would be a No-Lips-Norbert but he’s got LIPS.”
“What the hell is a no-lips-Norbert?!” Sylvia squeals, getting into her costume and twirling her cane.
“It’s a figure of speech,” Kola says. “I don’t know girl… maybe after this, we could be for real. If Clover doesn’t mind.”
Kola and Sylvia turn to look at me.
“Why the hell would I mind? I don’t have feelings for Thomas.” I don’t even sound convincing. I put on my blind mouse sunglasses like hiding my face will make my tone less embarrassingly jealous.
I feel like sinking into the earth. I ruined my chances with him. I have to let go.
* * *