Who Can Really Blame You?

“You know what I love?” Talia asks me as we’re getting ready for school the next day. I shake my head. I don’t know.

“I love your hair. It’s pretty,” she says, her reflection smiling at me. I smile back, and let her continue to straighten my hair.

“It’s just brown,” I point out.

“I love it,” she says. I smile and then stare at my black eye, and move to touch it lightly. I wince when it hurts.

“Is it that obvious?” I ask her, turning my head lightly. She snaps my head back into its previous position.

“Yes,” she says, sighing, “But no one will say anything about it. You’ll be so hot today anyways!”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m not hot, Talia,” I say, looking down. She gasps loudly, and turns me around to look right at her.

“You’re very pretty, Ainsley,” she tells me seriously.

“That’s your opinion, Talia, and you may be right, but no one else thinks so,” I mutter, pushing her hands away.

“That’s because they’re stupid,” she replies easily, and turns me back around to keep fixing my hair. I smile at her, and she pats my head.

“You’re done,” she tells me a minute or so later. I smile, and look for a moment at her handy work.

“Thanks Talia,” I tell her, letting her hug me.

“You are pretty, Ainsley,” she says again, “You want some of my cover-up for that?”

She’s pointing at my bruise. I shrug.

“It’ll show anyways. Might as well just tell anyone who asks a good story,” I tell her, smiling widely.

“Okay,” she shrugs, and leaves the bathroom to go change her clothes. I change my shirt quickly in the bathroom and mess up my hair a little bit before heading down the steps to grab something to eat from the kitchen.

I enter the kitchen, and see Hadley sitting on the counter top, talking to Tayler.

“Hey guys,” I say. They both wave. “Do we have any food?” I ask, looking in the fridge.

“No,” Tayler replies, “Why do you think Talia was so insistent on having some mac and cheese yesterday?”

“Oh,” I say, frowning at the empty cabinets.

“Mom’s looking for a job still,” Tayler tells me, “She’s out visiting our Grandma, hoping she’ll fork over a bit of money until then. She doesn’t like doing it, but she worries about me and Tal.”

“Understandably,” I reply, closing the fridge.

“We’ll just have to go to school hungry. I can wait for lunch anyways,” Tayler tells me. I nod, and we tell Talia to hurry up so we can catch the school bus in time.

“People are looking at me,” I mumble. Talia scoffs. We’re walking together to our classes, which are on the same hall.

“Let them stare. You’re hot,” she replies.

“I have a black eye. That’s why people are looking, Talia,” I tell her.

“Oh yeah,” she says, “Oh well. We had a throw down with those posers at the Art Cove yesterday. That big guy got you good.”

I have to smile at her this time.

“Shut up,” I say, “I’m going to the bathroom to hide.”

“Have fun in the bathroom!” she calls after me before continuing down the hall. I stare at her back for a moment before heading to the bathroom, which ends up empty. I stare at the bruise, and jump when the door opens a minute later. I look at the door, and quickly back to the sink. When I straighten up, Mr. Gorgeous Junior is next to me at the other sink. I jump again.

“Oh, man. What happened to your face?” he asks me, staring. I look down, and mumble something before rushing to my class.

I feel like an idiot.

“He talked to you?!” Hadley exclaims in the cafeteria. She’s managing to focus on this rather than Mae sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, ignoring her.

“Yes,” I mumble, covering my face, “With me looking like this.”

“Hey, you’re beautiful, with or without a shiner, okay? And anyways, how you look doesn’t matter in a relationship.”

“A. We’re not in a relationship and B. It does matter, which sucks,” I reply, looking at her through my fingers.

“I know,” she sighs, finally looking over to Mae’s table.

“Hey,” I say, lightly, putting my hand on her shoulder, “You’re gorgeous and wonderful. It’s her loss.”

“I know,” she sighs, but I know she doesn’t.

“You don’t know,” I reply, “And that sucks. You’re a catch, honey.”

“You called me honey,” she giggles.

“Okay, how about I call you baby cakes?” I ask her, jokingly.

“I think I’m more of a sweetheart, don’t you?” she asks seriously. I stare at her for a moment.

“I think you’re ridiculous,” I reply, finally, as the twins join us, trays full of food for all of us. I think it’s mostly for them, but whatever,

“Sup?” Talia asks, “Man I’m hungry!”

“I can’t tell,” I tell her, smirking. She scowls and shoves my food towards me. I smile wider.

“You know who talked to Ainsley today?” Hadley asks, starting a conversation.

“Who?” Talia and Tayler say together.

Creepers.

“Mr. Gorgeous Junior,” Hadley says.

“Why do you all insist on calling him that?” I wonder aloud, ignoring Talia and Tayler’s gasps. Simultaneous gasps.

“He talked to you?!” Talia asks me, grabbing my hands. I pull my arms free and nod.

“Yes,” I reply.

“What did he say?” Tayler asks me. I glare at him. “What? I’m interested!” he retorts.

“What did he say?” Talia exclaims, grabbing my hands again.

“He said, “Oh, man. What happened to your face?” Romantic, huh? I mean, I can just tell he has a burning desire to be with me.” I say sarcastically. I bury my face in my hands.

“He noticed something different about your face, which means he knows your face!” Talia says. I look up from my hands.

“Talia. Nobody has a perpetual black eye, okay? Of course he’s going to notice that something’s different about it.” I say, scowling at her.

“Debbie Downer,” she huffs.

“New topic. Everyone’s being pissy now,” Hadley says.

“I still think it’s great that you guys talked,” Talia says.

“What did you say back?” Tayler asks, ignoring Hadley.

“I didn’t. I just left,” I reply, playing with my food.

“Aw,” Talia pouts, “You should have told him about our throw down! We handled those Art Cove posers!”

I can’t help but smile at that.

When I get home, my dad’s not there. He left a note though, telling me he’s getting help, that he’s sorry. I crumple the note up and throw it into the trash. That’s what it is anyways.

I go to my room and remember that it’s locked. I sigh and try to jiggle open the lock.

I bitch my way outside and climb up the side of the garage. I walk carefully over the roof and open my window, before trying to shimmy through the open space. I put my arms and head in first, and try to walk in on my hands, but I soon get caught and fall. My legs follow me in shortly after. I stand up, and unlock the door and grab my things to put away.

I go downstairs to get some food, and then go back to my room, locking the door and not coming out, even when my dad gets home drunk and yells for me to come outside.