The rattling of pots, pans, and glass echoes up the stairs. I follow the sounds knowing instantly that they’re coming from the kitchen. Entering the room, I spot Clark with a frying pan in his hand trying to flip something that looks like a pancake.
Oh God… this isn’t good.
Unfortunately, he throws the half-done batter up in the air and fails to catch all the pieces with the pan. Smoke rises from the stovetop as the partial pancake lands on the burner.
“Shit,” Clark curses.
“Do you need some help?” I question, slowly walking over to him.
“Maybe so.” He grins before turning off the stove and throwing the pan in the sink.
“Do you like toaster strudels, because apparently I’m worse at cooking than I thought.”
“Toaster strudels are the best.” I grinned back at him, his smile infectious.
Ten minutes later we sit at the kitchen table across from each other digging into our steaming hot icing covered pastries. Clark’s fork is hovering inches away from his lips when the ding-dong sound of the doorbell chimes through the empty house.
“What the fuck?” Clark snarls softly while shoving up from his chair. Annoyance written in his angelic features. “Give me a minute, and I’ll be right back. I have to see who the hell that is.” He disappears into the hallway and time seems to tick by slowly well he’s gone. I pick at my food, suddenly losing my appetite.
My cell phone decides then to chime in my pocket, and I fish it out, the screen lighting up with an incoming text from my father. It’s a normal, obey, and listen or else text, the usual from my oh so loving father. Rolling my eyes, I exit out of the message and tap in the Facebook app. I scroll for a short while, skimming over pictures of people I barely know.
I only have a few friends on there, really I don’t know why I’m on there at all, none of those people are my real friends anyway. I don’t have any real friends.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket I sit there a little while longer before I get up. I shouldn’t care whoever it is that has Clark distracted, and I don’t or at least I tell myself that I don’t as I head for the stairs the sound of a feminine voice pierced my ears.
“Come on, Clark, it’s been too long, you can’t turn me away?” the girl says with a seductiveness that I could never achieve.
He is ditching you for another girl.
The confession stings, but is one I can handle. It’s really none of my business, or at least it shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t care who he screws, or sees, or any of that. I’m not his gatekeeper and I’m not about to cramp his style either. He can do whatever, and whoever he wants…
Shaking my head, I try to get rid of all these unwanted thoughts and feelings. I walk up the stairs hoping I can slip past both of them without incident. I’m not ready to meet any of Clark’s friends.
I make it halfway up the stairs before I hear the clicking of high heel shoes against the hardwood floors at the bottom of the stairs.
“Who the hell is this? Are you fucking someone else? You better not have given me crabs or some shit like that.”
“Shut up, Sarah, and get out. We aren’t fucking, we aren’t doing anything,” Clark growls and I’m surprised by the anger in his voice. Without turning around to face them, I continue walking up the stairs slowly, hoping, praying, that this Sarah chick will just leave me alone.
“Hey, you! Don’t ignore me, turn around and talk to me!” Her voice is pure venom and meant to harm. I wish I was stronger and could just keep going up the stairs without giving in to her demand, but like the weakling I am, I listen to her and turned around to face them.
Sarah is glaring up at me, her hand propped up on her hip, and her nose wrinkled like she smells something bad. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me, not one bit, and my stomach starts to churn as I wait for the onslaught of mental abuse to take place.
“Let’s get one thing clear, skank, you are nothing but a one time fuck to Clark. He’ll always come back to me…”
“Sarah!” Clark yells at her, his face a mask of fury as he grabs her arm and starts pulling her toward the door. Sarah shrieks, but has no choice but to follow.
“What? It’s not like I’m lying…she’s nothing but a quick lay. You are only nice to her until you get her panties off, everyone who knows you will agree.” Her words are coated with desperation. Little does she know I’m nothing to Clark, nor will I ever be.