The Perfect Shot

Beep

Beep

Beep

Be—

I slam my palm onto the snooze button and throw it across the room landing on a pile of textbooks for school.

“Goddammit I hate mornings.” I swing my legs over the tiny bed and rest my tiny feet on the soft purple carpet, mumbling to myself. I opened my eyes just a little bit, letting my eyes get used to the blaring morning sunlight passing through the silvery curtains covering my windows.

Picking up my phone from the bedside table, I looked through the texts that I didn’t reply to; knowing the only person who would bother to text me would be Charlotte.

I walked to the bathroom and stripped, abandoning my floral tank top and black flannel shorts on the bathroom floor. I washed yesterday’s grime off my body and stepped out of the shower. Drops of water fell of my wet stringy hair and my naked body as I rub the bleached white towel over the tiny droplets. I wrap the towel around me and plug in my dryer and straightener into the outlet located near the bathroom sink. Quickly drying my hair, I straightened the frizzy parts and added the minimum makeup I put on daily.

The smell of the seaside took over my senses as they wafted from the heavily used candles Melissa bought me for Christmas.

Somewhere I would love to be right now.

I pulled on a random outfit, grabbed my black purse with all my essentials and walked down the stairs, to find my mother sitting on the couch reading a TIME magazine.

I set my purse on the empty dining table and walked into the kitchen to make myself a waffle.

“You look disgusting. Go wear something appropriate.”

My mother appeared beside me and grabbed the waffle out of my hand and replaced it with a low calorie granola bar.

“I’m only going to school, it doesn’t matter.” I reply slowly, trying not to piss of my already angry mother.

“You don’t think school matters? How you dress will affect the grades you’re teacher will give you. If you dress as a slutty tramp, they will treat you as a slutty tramp.” I felt her hard stare from the side of my head. It took all my will power to not give in to her. “Don’t listen to me. I’ll tell your father about this.”

My father is never home, neither has he ever given me a lecture about how I dress. He works till 10 PM at a software company and doesn’t come home till midnight. When he is home, on the weekends, they take me to gathering or parties where many of his friends and my mother’s friends are. This, they tell me, will put me in the atmosphere of the line of career they want me in. My father wants me to take over his job at his software company. Since he had a daughter instead of a son, it still goes to me.

Unfortunately.

“I’m going to Charlotte’s today for the night. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

My mother grunted disapprovingly walking out of the room and into the master bedroom upstairs.

I shouldn’t even mention it.

I grabbed my car keys from the kitchen table and my purse and walked out the door.

Rubbing the two temples on my head I slid down to the floor and rested my head on my knees.

Both my parents are highly respected in their line of work, so they care about their reputation in this town a lot. Sometimes more than they care about me. Even without the need of respect, they still want me to achieve high grades and be the ‘first rank in school’ like they had years ago when they lived in southern India.

My dad started his software company when he moved to America with my mother a month after they got married. They had me a year later, and my little sister, Shree, five years after that. The software company boomed and reached staggering heights, just like their ego.

I have no other relatives, and have no cousins or siblings I can try to relate to. It’s just my parents, Shree and I living in a two story home in the upper middle class society.

The sweet, sweet feeling of freedom. Even if it lasted for more than a second, I would embrace it in open arms. In my life, between annoying businessmen and sexist jokes thrown this way and that, there was no time for the boredom that would normally feast on the mind of a teenager. I had to run from my school straight to another class, as my mother says it, because I will be well rounded so MIT will accept me.

My hands lace with sweat as I think of my life. Goosebumps emerge, roughing my skin. My conscience… well my conscience hasn’t spoken to me since that day. I swallow hard, trying to drown my fears. My conscience, the selfish bastard it is, can go die in the pits of my stress filled days and endless nights of no sleep. It can go to the hell of consciences and I won’t even care.

Breathe in

Breathe out

The only one who understands me is Charlotte. Even then, were so different. She parties every night, drinks until she can’t remember her name, and has sex more than… well more than anyone. She doesn’t have the restrictions; she has no boundaries but her morals. And that’s why she lives in the power obsessed world shaped around us. She has the power to shut someone up. She has the power to say no. She has the power to leave someone dangling for days.

I read on weekends, learning more about computer programs and axioms. I drink coffee to keep myself awake on nights I have to study more to pass a test. And I sure haven’t lost my V-card yet. I have no power. I live under the restrictions and invisible boundaries set by my parents. I can’t say no, I can’t leave someone dangling without an explanation; I get stomped over by everyone.

But I hide it more.

I can’t afford to tarnish my family’s reputation. It would mean instant disownment.

My eyes shut for a second and I let myself take a few breaths enjoying the time I have for myself before I go to school.

I get up from the scratchy Welcome mat. How involuntary. No one is welcome here.

Leaning against my front door, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and walk down the front porch steps to my Jeep Rubicon, a car I practically spent all my life saving for. And it’s another topic for my parents to argue to me about. I hate the luxury my parents force on me. It may seem clichéd; the rich girl wants to be i.e. different. But what is different. Is it a new meaning to being the same? I haven’t seen anything different when people get a hold of money. I haven’t seen anything different when people get power either. They act like they make the world go round. The fucking ego inflates, and makes everyone poorer do the hard work. Yet they make it seem like they are doing a charity, their helping them.

I’m not turning into a fucking prick because I can buy anything I want. I control what I say, and I defiantly don’t think highly of myself. I don’t even regard the mass amounts of money my family owns, it’s not mine. It’s my parents. They treat their money more like their offspring than their actual daughter.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I sit in the front seat and instantly feel better, calmer. “Hello Sophie. Would you mind starting up so we could go to school?” I traced the lining of the steering wheel with my finger, feeling the rough leather against my soft fingers.

I laughed silently as I turned the key revving the engine to a fiery start. I back out of the driveway, and drive to school enjoying the peaceful voice of John Mayor.

*

“I hate you; you hate me, let’s go downstairs and fuck till 3, with a boom, POW, shit and we’ll all die out. Fuck my life till the sun goes down.” I sing softly as I walk to my third period class. Lower classmen who take the extra classes on Saturdays walk around looking lost and scared.. And seniors aka my fellow classmates smirk and wink, though I only know they’re here because they need the credits. I turn the corner and start walking.

Singing the song again, I turn the second corner and walk farther into the heart of the school for Math.

“I hate you; you hate me, let’s go downstairs and fuck—”

An arm pulled me to the janitor’s closet and closed the door when I was fully inside. The click of the door only made me more scared.

I’m locked in a closet with a probable hideous, grueling psycho.

“What the hell?”

I rubbed my hand and felt around the wall for a light switch. When I found one, I flicked it on and saw the grueling, hideous face of… oh hell no.

My fucking best friend.

“What the monkey butt Charlotte?” mimicking how she would react to a situation like this.

She smirked and waited a few seconds.

“Hello, Char! I’m going to be late for class!” I wave my hands to get her attention, getting more anxious by the second.

The shrill sound of the bell kills my chance to get to class on time.

Fuck. My. Life.

Charlotte unlocks and opens the door, letting me see the view of almost empty hallways.

“So now that you’re not doing anything right now, want to come to work with me today?” She smiles evilly.

Mumbling swear words under my breath, “Char! I needed to go to these classes! Math’s important! I can’t just skip like that. Maybe you can, but I can’t Char. I have to go to college and my mom is going to fucking murder me if she finds out!” I ramble on and on about how stupid this is. “How the fuck did you get into the school anyway?”

“My awesome skills, that’s how. “She stops for a moment smirking at my astonished face laced with my signature ‘what the fuck?’ face. “Ami, babe it’s just one day. Besides, the managers cutting me off today so let’s have some fun while we still have it. Your mom won’t be that mad.” She said the last sentence slowly, shifting her eyes side to side.

Laughing bitterly, “You met my mother countless of times, and she called you a dumb whore in your face once. And you’re telling me she won’t mind?”

Char smiles slightly and starts walking out of the closet. “Are you coming?”

I try to say something; instead I stand there looking at Char with a weak stance. Char starts jumping in one spot pleading with me so I would go.

I roll my eyes and walk out of the closet looking around for any wandering teacher. Luckily there were not any so I grabbed her by the hand and ushered her to my locker.

I dropped my books in and snatched my car keys from the tiny basket magnetized to my locker door. Finally, slamming the locker door shut.

“Now let’s get out of here before some teacher finds out I am skipping.” I whisper, taking long strides to the front door looking for any signs of life.

Charlotte follows skipping and jumps into my car as soon as we get to it.

Charlotte has been my friend since the day I entered first grade. Back then, my self confidence waivered from point to point. I was pressured by parents to always achieve the best marks so I could attend a good college. I worked so hard to get the grades, but they never seemed to be pleased.

Char was the one person who taught me how to live, and I can never thank her enough for it. She defended me from the prissy eight graders who took my silence as an opening to bullying and future harassment. They took advantage of my smarts and often threatened to copy my homework or cheat of my tests. After meeting my future best friend however, it all died out. I was less of a non-social geek and more of a sex goddess.

It’s revolting.

After we graduated middle school, Charlotte’s family was hit hard with underpaid debts and job loss. Her parents filed divorce and her father lost her job. Now, she lives with her dad and her younger by a year sister Melissa. Her mother vanished after she lost custody.

When we arrived at IHOP, Charlotte skipped inside unhooking her apron off the wall in the kitchen. I walked in after her shifty eyed. “Are you sure I’m allowed here?”

“Sure you are. Now wear this and pretend you work here.” She grinned and walked through the door with an order.

I groaned and slung the apron over me and attacked myself with flour. As I rubbed of the excess flour of my arms, Charlotte runs back in slamming the door in an unsuspecting waiter.

Charlotte stops and looks at the waiter on the ground clutching his face, shrugs and slides down to me.

Raising my eyebrow at Charlotte, I tell her to spill on the news that made her so giddy.

“Marcos fucking Suarez and his dumbass friend, that’s what.”

“Really?” I walk over to the door and look out the circular window to see exactly what she said, the mother fucking heartbreaker. “Then why are you so happy?”

“Time to get revenge.” Even though I wasn’t looking at Charlotte, I knew some evil plot was forming, and it was going to come out hard.

“Excuse me; I think table 5 over there needs some assistance.” I turned to see her smile at me and walk over to another waitress. “Marcy! You can take the day off, I’ll take over.”

She took the order and walked over to the victims table.

I see the manager walking toward the kitchen, and as a final act of despair, I imitate the boy next to me and try to go unnoticed. And I did.

I head out the door, after the manager leaves and try to locate Charlotte, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell?" I shift my eyes and rock side to side feeling uncomfortable.

I slowly walk out the door trying to spot my hyperactive friend.

The chilly October air brushes against my face as i walk around the restaurant to the parking, where my car was.

Maybe she left. She did say she was going to get fired... but why leave without me?

Unlocking my Jeep, I step in and automatically turn the heat on to warm up my chilled fingers. As I was about to back out, Charlotte walks past my car to the opposite one where two boys were having what seemed like a fight.

Quickly turning off my engine I practically run to Charlotte and the boys.

"Your Melissa Cohnhart’s sister!?"

"Uh yeah she is."

The two boys look over to me and I see their faces more clearly. It was Mark and his friend.

Charlotte grins when she noticed me and slings her arm over my shoulder.

"Ami and I were leaving, I hope you two bastards die in a hole."

She turns me around and we walk to my car.

"Wait!"

He grabbed my wrist and stopped me. "Your name is Ami?"

I turn to see Mark's friend staring at me intently.

"Holy shit, you're that girl."

Mark stared at his friend with a confused look. Charlotte stood by me looking more confused as he stared more.

"What?" Who is this guy?

"Adrian you’re scaring her." Mark piped up noticing the tension.

Adrian brushed his hair from his eyes and looked at me with his warm chocolate brown eyes.

My head swirled with realization. The dim- lit streetlight, the looming evergreens, the bench parked near the littered streets. That place. It was like the time...

No.

Brimming with tears, I pulled out of grasp and backed away. Adrian stepped closer cautiously

"Mark could you – "

"Yeah, sure man." Mark steps into the car and shuts the door. The almost muted sound of The Maine starts to play hands around me

"Charlotte, please." Adrian looked at Charlotte with pleading eyes.

"No,I don't know what you did to her, but she's crying and I'm not leaving my best friend!" Charlotte yelled.

I flinched, "Charlotte, it's okay. Go to the car, I'll be fine." I whispered quietly.

I felt her stare at me, but my eyes were on Adrian. He looked different. Good different, not bad.

When I heard the retreating steps of Charlotte, Adrian started to speak. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

The sentence hung there, neither of us saying anything.

The silence overwhelmed me. The wind begins to blow and the trees swayed. I bring my hands around me and hug myself.

"You cold?"

"Little bit."

"Here" He handed me his zip up hoodie. I smiled gratefully and slung the hoodie over my body, leaving the zip halfway up. "How come every time I see you, you’re dressed like it's still summer?"

"You've only seen me twice." I muttered, staring at the moon illuminating in the dark sky.

"Your point is?" I glance at him and he's smiling.

An exasperated sigh escapes my mouth.

"Exactly."

It was my turn to talk now. "Why do you want to talk? You didn’t seem so happy then."

"I just want to say the words I really didn’t how to say last time. Something tells me I should be here being to you rather than leaving to go to Charley's party down the street."

"Charley... That's Charlotte's friend. We were going there later today."

"Really? Then I'll meet you there."

"I guess so." I turn on my heel and walk away from him.

I entered my car as Charlotte slid down to the passenger seat.

Sophie gave out a loud rumble as her engine revved up to back out. Charlotte opened her mouth and spoke the two words that I dreaded to hear. "Okay spill."