Toxic Waste

"I never thought we'd be as close as we are."
"Same."
I look at him, he's distant. Why? "What's wrong?"
"You."
"What?"
"You are. Everything about you is wrong! That's why your mother acted like she did."
Whoa. "What are you talking about?"
He laughs menacingly, "She hated the fact that you even existed. She never wanted a daughter, hell, she never wanted kids..."
"No, my dad said--"
"What your dad says doesn't mean shit to her, now does it? Maybe she said she wanted to have kids with him just to make him feel better. Ever think of that?"
My mouth closes...He's right. He's so right...
"Exactly."
Suddenly the room tilts and I'm on a beach. I look down and see a white, loose fitting dress hangs on my body. My huge body. It's like I gained back all of the weight I was desperate to get off. I run to a mirror that is only two hundred feet in front of me. When I reach it, I cry. It's true, I've gained all forty pounds back...But how? Why? What happened?
"You're still beautiful to me."
Who said that? I open my eyes and see Christian.
He smiles, "Come on, buttercup, you've always been a great person. So what if you're--"
"Everyone cares that she's fat, idiot."
I see Tyler smirking behind him. "Tyler?"
"The fact that I had to be seen out in public with her was a bit of a drag, in all honesty. People would tell me that I could do better, that I deserved better...and they're right. So that's why I went after Bee."
I knew it, I always knew it...

Banging on my front door wakes me up. Who in their bright mind wakes someone at...What time is it anyways? It's only ten? Who would try to wake someone up at this ungodly hour? What horrible human being would decide to--Oh. Wait. SHIT.
I get out of my bed quickly and run down the stairs. Christian. I open the door and see him leaning against the frame.
"'Bout time, Kara! I told you to be ready for me at ten."
"What are you talking about? I've been ready!"
He smiles down at me with his bright, aqua colored eyes (I know the exact color, I googled them once) staring into my soul. "Right," he drags out, "So you just casually answer your door in a really big shirt with your hair looking all disheveled?" When my eyes grow wide, he adds, "And are you even wearing pants?"
I instantly look down at what I'm wearing. No, I'm not wearing pants, I'm only wearing boy short underwear. Shit. "I have to look my best, always."
He laughs. "I'll go into the living room, get yourself ready for company."
With some newfound confidence, I look him dead in the eyes and smirk, "I think I look presentable for a friend, don't you? I mean, I don't see why I would cause such a ruckus seeing as we're two matured teenagers home alone."
A blush creeps on his face. I win.
I stand on my tiptoes and hug him, "I'm kidding, Chris, I'll be right back."
He hugs me back for a brief second before letting me go up the stairs to get decent.
What a gentlemen.
I brush my teeth and stare at my closet. What would be casual yet cute? Wait, why am I even trying to look cute? He's a friend, Kara, calm down.
But what if I wanted to be more than that since I was little?
No, bad thoughts, go away!
Come on, admit you--
NEVER!
Go on, you know you liked him back--
I SAID NEVER!
NO NEED TO GET NASTY, I'M ONLY TRYING TO HELP!
WELL STOP!
I grab a pair of black leggings, a dark green oversized flannel, and a black tank top. There, casual enough. After finishing up with my teeth, I wash my face, and struggle to get a brush through my hair. If anyone ever wishes for thick hair, I highly suggest you take that wish back and beg for more wishes. Then I throw my clothes on and rush down the stairs.
"Sorry about that, I--" I stop when I see him asleep on the couch. You've got to be kidding me. "CHRISTIAN I DID NOT WAKE UP THIS EARLY JUST FOR YOU TO FALL ASLEEP ON MY COUCH, WAKE YOUR LOVELY ASS UP BEFORE I DUMP OIL ON YOU!"

He didn't listen. And no, he wasn't happy.
He said, and I quote, "You fucking bitch...I swear to God I am going to kill you in your sleep."
Isn't he a peach?
Now we're sitting on the kitchen floor, I won't let him sit on the furniture due to his nastiness. I slip my phone out and sit besides him, leaning against the cupboards. He glares at me, but I don't care. Time to take a picture.
I make my best I-Know-Nothing/I-Didn't-Do-It face and tap the capture button. I look back at the results and smile, first time it's perfect.
I upload the picture onto Instagram and put a caption, "He makes me get up at ten for out reunion, but then falls asleep. Next thing I know he's covered in oil *sassy girl emoji* Whaaaat?"
He checks his phone, half expecting me to send the picture to him, but then his eyes grow wide. "You did not just put that on Instagram."
"Oh, but I did."
"You are really going to die in your sleep tonight."
I get the notification that he likes the picture, then that he comments, "If only there was a middle finger emoji...Thanks for welcoming me into your home *angry emoji face*"
"*Proud emoji face* Anytime, sweetheart, anytime"
This picture and our comments describe our relationship perfectly: All fun and games, hint of seriousness, pure teasing, but love each other dearly.
Now if only we were dating.
NO, STOP IT BRAIN!