To Be Thankful For

   “Audrey!”, Liz yelled slamming me back into reality. I open my heavy eyelids and moan in disgust.

        “Why can’t you just let me sleep? I’m so fucking tired from that party you forced me to go to last night”, I said groggily arching my back like a cat. I push a lock of my tangled brown hair behind my ear and rub my aching temples from the thick hangover that is draped over me like a thick blanket.

You’d think hangover wouldn’t be a problem for me with all the booze I drink, but mornings have always been a bitch. I blink my eyeshadow stained eyes and try to recall last night but all I get are snip-its of boring small talk that I try to drown out by drink after drink of beer. As much as I hate every Friday night of my life being dedicated to people in Armani, I owe it to Liz for letting me crash at her house almost every night to escape my insane business motivated aunt.

” So which dress says ‘I’m thankful for this fat turkey and don’t wish you’d all go to hell’?”, says Liz holding up a black strapless and navy mesh skater dress. I roll my eyes and bury my face in a pillow feeling instant relief. I emerge again to see Liz holding the navy number up against her in the mirror.

“Definitely navy”, I reply half-heartedly. “So, how are your parents planning their famous ‘Touchstone Thanksgiving'”, I ask getting up to flip through Liz’s closet for something to wear.

“Oh you know. Like Mindy is working around the clock and sending people out to search for pinecones and stuff”, says Liz idly. “Do you want me to curl your hair?”, Liz asks suddenly nodding her head towards her vanity chair.

“Don’t you think I should shower first? I look disgusting”, I say to which Liz shrugs. I stalk over to her bathroom, hating the feeling of the cold tiles under my feet, and turn the knob on her claw-foot bathtub to feel boiling water on my fingertips. I lower myself carefully down onto the white bottom and feel acuity wash over me. The water quickly fills the tub and I lather my hair and body with various products and soaps until I smell like the perfume section of Sephora. I hear the familiar ringtone of Liz’s phone in her room and her mock bubbly voice say hello. I dunk my head under the water and feel the rush of the drain in my ears. I know my aunt will be at the party tonight and I’ll have to act like a debutante to excuse my non-attendance record and it makes me want to throw up the breakfast I didn’t have. I sit up and wrap myself in a Trinity Prep standard towel and take in my raw pink skin in the full length mirror. I towel dry the rest of myself and order a toad-in-a-hole over the intercom since I’m suddenly ravenous. I walk out and pick a dark purple dress from Liz’s closet and sit down on her vanity to let her fix my hair.

“I’m so jealous of your hair”, Liz says having ditched her phone and discarded it on her bed.

“Don’t be, it’s so annoying”, I reply taking a peppermint from her candy jar. I make loud sucking noises which make her cringe.

“Could you be any more disgusting?”, Liz asks pulling out a curling wand from one of her drawers and beginning to attack my hair. She’s just about to say her signature ‘voila!’ when Ashley jumps through the door frame.

I try not to gag on my peppermint and force a smile. Liz runs up and hugs the beachy blonde with an almost believable laugh.

“You two look gorgeous!”, Ashley yells.

“Thanks Ashley”,  I murmur. Miss Touchstone calls us down over the intercom and I feel my stomach drop out of dread. I put on a smile and walk down the stairs to get introduced to all the guests before dinner. I see my aunt get ushered in the front door and I squeeze Liz’s hand for reassurance. I feel a breath on the back of my neck and I spin around quickly out of freight.

“Calm down jumpy, it’s just me”, Jonathan says slipping his hand through mine. I feel my mouth form a small “o”.

“Ryan told me you had a crush on me. Was he just being a bastard or was he telling the truth?”, Jonathan says looking at me in the eye.

“Depends”, I say breathlessly. “Do you like me?”. We stand in silence for a second before he pulls me away from the party and takes me to an empty hallway. He doesn’t say a word and looks down at his trainers. I feel my heartbeat pick up. “Because I get it if you don’t” I ramble on. “I’m not pretty, or funny, or smart or even nice and I drink too much and I’m a total wreck most of the time and-” Jonathan cuts me off putting a finger on my lips.

“I like you because you’re pretty, and funny, and smart and you give pencils to total stranger. I like you because you’re spontaneous and witty and drink cinnamon in your hot coco. I like you because despite the fact that you’re the most popular girl in school you payed attention to a nobody like me”, Jonathan says pulling me into him and kissing me flat out on the lips without a bit of hesitation.

“I like you too” I whisper.


  •  Happy Thanksgiving
  • I’m back from hiatus
  • Even though Liz is MIA I will continue with the plot until she returns.
  • Positions for Ashley and Eva are available for audition.




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Hallowed Hallways

I took a swing of water and tapped my peep-toe mule against the tiled cafeteria floor. The bustle of students shuffling past me to different lunch lines swarmed around me but I just kept my gaze fixed on the crowd. My electric blue eyes searched each oily face for a familiar mess of black hair but it seemed that Liz was biding her time elsewhere. I allowed my mind to float away and think about where she is when I heard my name behind me. I looked behind me quickly and muttered a curse under my breath for letting my mind drift from me.

“Ooh, better watch what you say”, said the same voice behind me. I looked at him and tried to place a name on him. He was wearing a black no-fuss tee, ripped jeans and his signature one earring. I rolled my eyes tagging him as Ryan Carey, class bad boy and advertised smoker. He leaned away from a banister with a small grin on his face as he watched me.

“What do you want Ryan?”, I snapped. In my mind I tried to fit him into where I’d seen him like he was the missing link of a jigsaw puzzle. Then it clicked; Jonathan.

“You know what I want”, Ryan said shifting his wait farther from the column.

“Actually, I honestly don’t”, I replied stuffing my shaking hands into my jean pockets. Ryan stared me straight in the eye, revealing a bird tattoo on his neck. I felt a pang of jealousy since I had tried to get some ink myself not even a few weeks ago.

“I read your iProfile page”, said Ryan casually. I took note of how he and Jonathan both had a knack of getting annoyingly off topic.

“Cool. You and every other stalker” , I retorted looking for Liz out of the corner of my eye.

“I know you like Jonathan”, said Ryan matter-of-a-factly. I squeezed my palms into fists to stop trembling and tried to keep a placid expression.

“What are you talking about?”, I asked shifting my weight when I heard a scuffle behind me. Ryan and I whipped around to the noise and Jonathan stepped out, crunching into an apple. He blushed when he saw us and his eyes darted between the two of us like we were in a intense tennis match.

“Um, Hi Audrey”, said Jonathan awkwardly.  I felt my heart tap dance against my chest with the sight of him and I silently scolded myself. As many times as my brain told my heart to stop, it just wasn’t playing with the program. Ryan smirked at me and I knew my face was a dead giveaway.

Ryan leaned in close to me and whispered “Be good to my friend, Valentine”, before smiling and walking away. Jonathan’s eyes continued to dart between myself and Ryan’s retreating back before he cleared his throat and asked the question that was obviously on his mind.

“What was that about?” , he asked finally.  I tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. The bell rang in the distance saving me and I looked at him. I leaned in without thinking like I was about to kiss him on the cheek before I reminded myself that boyfriends were a waste of time and awkwardly shuffled away. I walked into Advanced Algebra with my head in the clouds, daydreaming about Jonathan’s smile.

z - page divider

“Miss Valentine, would you please kindly pay attention in class?”, said Miss Mercer slamming her chalk against it’s tray. I glared up at her and flashed my notebook full of notes at her. She flushed red and hastily continued with the lesson. This misconception of me being a troublemaker was really getting old.

“Pst”, Eva whispered behind me. I tilted my head slightly to show Eva I was listening.

“Do the troublemakers in our school seem to be acting different lately? Like why hasn’t the migration to under the social radar started already?”, Eva said laughing at her own wit. I felt my jaw tighten and my fists clench.

“What is that supposed to mean?”, I hissed angrily. I kept my eyes fixed on the board but I felt a monster crawling at my throat in anger, slowly I arising.

“Nothing”, Eva giggled. “Just that they are a group of smokers, misfit and drinkers that enjoy getting stoned”. Eva began to laugh so hard she got scolded by Miss Mercer and the geeky kids around us. I turned fully around to glare at Eva.

“That’s not nice.” I grumbled through my clenched teeth. Eva stared at dumbfounded for a second, just realizing she had offended me.

“B-but we’ve made fun of them our whole lives”, stammered Eva.  Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Eva left in a sort of confused trance until we walked out into the corridor where Jonathan was waiting for me. Her brown eyes widened with understanding as her head whipped between the two of us.

Bye Bitches



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New Year Resolutions

As much as I hated to admit it sophomore year at Trinity Prep had begun. Despite the fact that I was going to one of the best schools in the state I had no inclination to be back amongst the prepsters, overly punctuated sign-up sheets, & awed freshmen and seeing the sight of it all made me want to vomit in my Vera Bradley tote. I checked the large circular clock over the nearest chain of lockers and cursed under my breath. Second period would be starting in 10 minutes. I shuffled through the increasing crowd of high schoolers and fought my way to my locker. Though my summer, overall uneventful, had been semi-decent with Liz at the Touchstone Estates.

“Hey Audrey” said Eva behind my locker door.

“Hi” I said emotionlessly picking out my World History & French binder.

“Where are you going?” Eva said as began to walk back down the thinning halls obviously not sensing my boredom, but to be honest only Liz ever does.

I flashed my binders at Eva,”French” I said to make myself completely clear. Eva nodded understandingly and began to go on about foreign language choices and how she chose german over latin.

“What are you two beauties talking about?”, said a voice behind us. I looked over my shoulder slowly as Eva greeted the voice with a hug.

“What”, I grumbled scanning the hall for anyone else that would disturb my never-tardy record.  The mass of blonde hair, now arm-in-arm with Eva then began talking about my least favorite topic: status.

“You know that new freshman with the Ralph Lauren blazer and louis handbag? There’s talk about her overthrowing us by January”, said Ashley as she scanned her student distributed iPad for incoming texts.

“Who cares?”, I yawned before turning the corner into a classroom. I looked around at the empty desks and seated myself near the back of the room. I heard the swish of the door open and close as the last minute kids sat down. I leaned over my bag and began pulling out my binder and a pencil when I felt someone staring at me.

“Um hi?”, I said to the person sitting next to me. I saw him quickly look away and stare intensely at the SMART board.  I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever”, I grumbled and began taking notes on proverbs. Class went on for 15 more minutes before I felt him staring at me again. I decided to ignore him and focused my attention instead on the clock which was ticking away 45 minutes until we got out.

“Can I borrow a pencil?”, asked stalker guy next to me. I glared over at him with an expression of someone who had been interrupted doing something important and glanced over at his bag that had a number 2 pencil sticking out of the front pocket.

“Why don’t you use that?”, I said pointing to his bag and smiling ever so slightly.

“Can I have a pencil?”, he repeated. I stared at him unbelievingly.

“But you have one”, I said incredulously.

“So?”, he replied.

“Ok, I’ll make you a deal. If you tell me your name I will give you my pencil. Even the nice mechanical one, but I expect it back”, I said reaching my hand out. He stared my manicured nails but said nothing for a minute as I began to feel my biceps ache.

“Pencil first” he said at last. I stared at him for a moment and began to appreciate his adorable brown hair and brown eyes. I reached over to his desk and set down the pencil. Out of his notebook he ripped the bottom of a lined piece of paper and scrawled something on it before passing it to me. I clutched it in my fist and began to unravel the wad as the teacher looked away. Only one word was on it in boyish handwriting.


I found it odd for a moment that he had included the period at the end of his name like that was all there was to him, a simple eight lettered word.

“Jonathan”, I muttered aloud but no one noticed. I felt eyes staring at me for the third time that class and met Jonathan’s gaze.

Bye Bitches,



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If you’re wondering where you’ve seen this “T” then the answer is obvious: Trinity Prep. The school that I run alongside my what I guess you’d call “Best Friend”:Elizabeth Touchstone.

Putting it like that I bet you are assuming I was a no-life wannabe that sits in her room in the middle of the night wondering how to get any friends and become popular. Quite the contrary really. I one of the most popular girls at Trinity Prep and am constantly surrounded by a group of people that adore me. We’re a picture perfect clan of prepsters. Wonderful really.

Though bitch is a strong word to call someone, I think I fit the description. But please excuse me, my parents did die when I was seven. One of the many wrongs that have happened to me.

My life is as dull as golf and the only thing I look forward to is hiding my booze. Though many would trade their lives for mine in a heartbeat, I grow more tired of it every day. Ya, I’m spoiled but that doesn’t light the fire of ones soul.

Overall I want more out of life. At this rate, I’m gonna be 100 years old and have no stories to tell my grandchildren. Just the tale of a young misfit who was never content. No Newberry Medal coming my way.

If you see me in the hall I’ll probably have a smile plastered on as well as a stupid age appropriate outfit but if you really want to make me happy just slip me some vodka.

If you really have nothing better to do with your life come back to this site on September 4th for my first real post.

Bye Bitches


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