Take This to Your Grave

I was now face to face with an angry woman. Or, rather, girl. Leah looked like a girl, not a woman.

She's a bit taller than myself, taller than Pete. She's got brown hair and piercing blue eyes; I was taken aback by the glow of them. She wore what everyone else wore; jeans and a t-shirt, and sneakers. Her makeup was like my own and I instantly regretted letting Pete make me over. Leah closed in on me, circling me like a shark and it's prey; all she needed to do was nudge me with her nose and swallow me whole.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" She snarled at me.

I raised a brow, unsure of how to answer. I didn't quite understand why she was so angry with me. "I'm Naomi. Why are you so angry with me? I didn't do anything."

That only infuriated her more, she shoved me and I stumbled back against Babette. "You know Pete's mine!"

I stood up, Babette patting my back as she began to plead a case for me; "Naomi isn't doing anything--"

"No one is talking to you!" Leah yelled at her.

I looked over at Pete who looked helpless and made his way over. Leah immediately swept into my sight, "Are you really looking at my boyfriend in front of me?!"

I frowned at her, I was becoming apoplectic, and I couldn't stop myself from saying; "Why are you angry with me? I'm his friend, I'm 16 years old! I'm not fucking your boyfriend, you crazy, psychotic bitch!"

The room was quiet after that, the anger was coursing through me and I swore I was ready to hit her. Her eyes grew large and she growled, her lips trembling, "What did you call me?" Her voice was eerily calm.

Pete grabbed her, "Leah, c'mon--"

She shoved Pete, who stumbled back and then came over towards me. His hand wrapped around my wrist as Leah and I glared at each other. My heart was beating so fast, adrenaline was building out of anticipation. I was waiting for it; for Leah to hit me. I knew she would, I've been in a fight before; and if she didn't hit me, I'd be extremely surprised.

That's when she did it; as I thought about it. As I felt the adrenaline build, her hand came up and smacked my cheek. I didn't pause, I pushed her and slapped her back, causing her to tumble backward. The room around me was a blur as she got up and tackled me. Her hands were trying to wrap around my neck, but I block them; I held her wrist and kept any hits at bay.

Babette was screaming at us and ordering someone to get Leah off of me. I was growing tired, my arms hurt and my adrenaline was making my body shake and my heart pound faster than it ever had. She got the upper hand, my arms fell back, releasing her, and she hit me; her fist collided with my temple. I cried out, I pulled my knees up, using my feet to kick her off me; she fell back, and Babette helped me up, wrapping her arms around me. My body shook, my head pounded as fast as my heart; Pete had Leah by her waist, she was a few feet from me.

The room was still quiet, we both panted and glared; "You think I'd ever fight some crazy bitch over some guy?!" I screamed at her, "You're fucking nuts! You need to grow up, your relationship isn't that damn serious!"

"How would you know?!" She screamed back.

"I'm his friend!" I snapped; I was ready to spill secrets, "He's told me everything, you dumb bitch!"

The people around "ooh"ed and I looked around; I had forgotten the people around us. I swallowed thickly, and gently pulled Babette's arms from around my middle. I looked at her, "Thanks." I said simply and began to leave.

My adrenaline faded as I stepped out into the cool air; my head throbbed, I rubbed my temple, knowing I'd bruise. I took in a deep breath and tried to remember the way we came. I began to walk around the building, but stopped, I began to feel dizzy.

"Naomi?" Two voices called out to me. "Naomi? Navy?"

I licked over my lips and leaned against a wall, "I'm here." I called out.

Babette appeared with Pete; "Are you alright?" She asked.

"My head hurts." I mumbled.

"I'm sorry." Pete said shortly, he was apathetic. He wasn't actually sorry. I knew he was upset with me.

"No you're not." I called him out on it. "I'm gonna go home. Leave me alone." I told him.

Babette grabbed my shoulders, "Naomi let me take you home."

I nodded, "Okay."

Babette looked at Pete and then back at me, "She'll be fine." She seemed to say to him as she kept her eyes on me.

Pete didn't say anything, he just left, the anger boiled in me again, "Asshole!" I cried.

Babette sighed, "C'mon, little girl." Again, she never said these words to insult me.

"Thank you."

She gave a soft hum as she led me away from the club, "No trouble at all Naomi."


Babette was in my bedroom, applying makeup to my large bruise on the side of my head. "You've got lovely skin, hon."

"Thank you." I murmured.

She applied this liquid concealer and told me how to do it myself. I made mental notes of it all, and thanked her more times that I should've. Once she had given me a tactful lesson, she patted my back; "You'll be alright?"

I nodded, "Yes."

She licked over her lips, "You still got my card?"

I pulled it out of the back pocket of the jeans and showed her. She took it from me, turned it around and leaned over my desk and began to write on the back of it. "This is my number... My cellphone number. You need anything at all just call me." She handed it back to me. "I mean it, Naomi."

I smiled, "Thank you, Babette."

She gave a playful roll of her eyes, "Stop thanking me! Your manners are making me feel like a barbarian woman."

"I can't help it." I gave a lame shrug.

Babette continued to smile at me, "Take care. I'll let myself out. And," she added as she began to advance toward my open door, "Don't forget to call me."

I nodded, "I won't."

Babette lifted her small hand and waved, heading out. I listened to her jog down the stairs and a moment later she was out the door. The room was so quiet I could hear her small car chug to a start and drift off.

I looked at myself in the small vanity mirror and saw that my bruise was completely concealed. I wondered what my excuse would be if my dad saw it. I would find an excuse, I know that for a fact.

I sighed deeply and got up, tugging the clothes off myself and shoved them into a shopping bag I had stored beneath my desk. I set them by my window, locking it, too, to keep Pete away. I wasn't particularly happy with him, I hated him, I hated Leah, and I didn't want to see him again. The whole thing made me feel sad, and I never wanted to see Pete ever again. I didn't cry, but I was on the verge; I decided to take a shower, wash the makeup off and let the tears flow.

Stupid bastard.