Page 68 of Petite Fleur

Thankfully, my girl also seems to be an early bedtime, stay-at-home kinda girl, aside from last night.

That’s okay; when we’re together, I won’t allow her to stay out so late and drink so much that she can’t walk straight. I’ll let her get tipsy, have some fun, dance the night away, and come home safely.

With me.

I won’t allow her to go out and party alone, it’s a dark and scary world out there, one filled with monsters and killers.

I should know.

Maeve will know soon enough; she’ll learn that even the nicest people can be scary.

She’ll learn to dance and live among the monsters.

Chapter 25

Maeve Henderson

I haven’t left my room since I got into my little fight with Carlie.

I stormed upstairs, locked myself in my room, and had an embarrassingly ugly cry on the shower floor.

It was really therapeutic at first, curling up in a ball while the hot water washed away all of my tears and sent them down the drain, but then the hot water ran out.

It wasn’t so nice after that, especially when I realized I hadn’t showered yet and now had to take an ice-cold shower.

I’ll let that be a lesson for next time, I suppose.

With how my life is going, I’m sure that won’t be my only mental breakdown on the shower floor.

I always knew I wasn’t super popular. It was never a surprise to find out that I’m nobody’s first pick, but it feels like a new level of hurt that my entire friend group abandoned me for a simple fantasy.

I don’t even see what’s so bad about it!

Doesn’t everyone have a kink that they’re scared to admit? So mine happens to be a rape fantasy with a consenting partner. Is it really that big of a deal?

I mean, we’ve all watched the same horror movies! We’ve all seen the same masked men chasing the woman who just so happens to be wearing a nightgown that’s barely not see-through, but I’m the bad guy when I point out the obvious.

I’m telling myself that I don’t care, I’m going to let myself be upset today, but tomorrow, I’m going to forget about it and find a new place to live.

When I finally make my way out of the shower, I’m thankful to realize that my dinner from the dining hall is still warm.

The lovely ladies wrapped it in several layers of foil for me. They even embedded a small birthday card within the layers of foil, which was signed by all of the staff.

They have no idea how much that means to me, especially after the week that I’ve had.

I sink into the soft carpet and slowly pick at the sweet and sour tofu they prepared for me. It tastes delicious, but I feel terrible.

I feel pathetic that I’m sitting on the floor crying while I eat my dinner, staring out my window and watching as the rest of the world goes on around me.

Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but it feels like the rug has been pulled out from under me.

I can’t afford to live or eat, haven’t found a summer job, and no longer have a place to live.

Plus, all of my friends hate me, my professors bully me, and my mother hasn’t checked in with me in months.

The only plus side is that my birthday cake is still waiting for me in the freezer, and I get to binge on it while I quietly pack my things in a few hours when Carlie and Sean have already left for the bar.

I end up turning on the TV and watching some mindless sitcom for a few hours, just something for some background noise while I wait out my former roommates. I don’t think I’ve paid attention to anything that they’ve said or what’s going on, but it gives me enough of a distraction that time passes pretty quickly, and I finally hear the front door slam shut and silence to fill my former home.

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