Page 3 of Casualties

“Phew.”Relief washes over me, realizing they didn’t hear me.But then I hear Ace.

“Ashleyyy…” he groans out, his voice laced with a hint of frustration.

No fucking way.Ashley Jacobs?I can't stand this bitch and here she is in MY house!

We live in a small town, and there's only one Ashley that clung to Ace in high school.She must be back from college for the summer, too.I knew I would eventually run into her on breaks after she left for college, but not in my freaking house!

She was one of the most popular girls in the boys' grade, and she made it her mission to make my life hell.Ashley was everything I wasn’t.She dressed like a cover model, always wearing top-of-the-line brands.Her hair was always styled to perfection and her makeup was as amazing as any makeup influencer.

I sound jealous.I’m not jealous.Ashley Jacobs is just an awful human.She made it her mission to be cruel to me any chance she could.Tripping me in the hallway, laughing at me to her friends, knocking my books out of my hand—just a few examples.

I know Ace isn’t a virgin like I am, but I always chose to avoid thinking about his hookups to prevent feeling the way I do now.

The moaning finally stops—thank God!

Their voices drop to a murmur, and I press my ear closer, straining to catch their words.What I hear next shatters me.

There’s nothing more to say except… California, here I come.

ONE

AINSLEY

“Mommm...Mom!Where are my Docs?”I ask as I frantically search my room for my boots.

“Honey, I don't know.Where was the last place you had them?”My eyes roll in a full three-sixty at her redundant question.But I keep the attitude to myself.My mom is an angel, and doesn’t deserve the wrath caused by my anxious mood.

“If I knew that, I would have found them!Ah, here they are.”With the back of my hand, I dab away the droplets of sweat forming on my upper lip from running around this damn house looking for them.

“Why are you so frantic this morning?”My mom offers her gorgeous smile, showing off a mouth full of perfect teeth dentists would worship.No kidding.Her smile is so perfect our dentist asked if she could model for his ad campaign.

Glossy, espresso-colored hair falls down to her lower back.Mrs.Copeland is a work of art.But that’s my mom for you.

“I don’t know Mom, maybe because it’s the day I leave for college and I’m kind of freaking out.”I mirror her smile to lighten my sarcasm.

“Sweetheart, you just spent your whole summer in California.Going to school two hours away from home should be a walk in the park.”She’s right, I know she is.I can’t tell her the real reason I’m nervous, and honestly don’t even want to think about it.

My summer attending Stanford’s writing program was life-changing.It brought my writing to another level.My main goal for after I graduate is to write fiction novels, but I also enjoy writing poetry.

I had no intention of showing anyone my poems, but the program had a mandatory poetry course.Once my professor read some of my work, she praised the evocative depth in my words.Dark and emotionally raw,was her description.Then she told me they were so good they could be songs.

That got me thinking…Music is my lifeline as much as writing, and maybe I could in fact turn my work into songs.It’s only a hobby, but a lot of my work over the summer after that was my attempt at song writing.

It helped.

My writing wasn’t the only thing to level up over the summer.No longer am I that insecure tomboy everyone at school ignored.In their place is a new me that exudes confidence.

But I can’t take the credit for the new me, that goes to my Stanford roommate Jordan.I couldn’t hide the sadness I radiated when I arrived that first week.She took pity on me, and listened to every emotionally draining cryfest.I was a pathetic mess.

I never planned to share my heartache with anyone, but Jordan has a way of getting you to do what she says.

Two weeks into our program she had enough of me wallowing in self pity.She insisted I go shopping with her to "enhance my wardrobe" and "stop looking like a boy."While she rocked her sassy business-casual chic style, it was not for me.She knew that too, so she helped me make feminine changes that I was comfortable with.

I needed the change to stop my negative thoughts of never being good enough.I wanted to stop hiding behind clothes as a defense mechanism.My baggy band tees were cut and knotted, while skinny jeans kicked my loose ones to the curb.I now have clothing that hugs my body, and shows that I have an actual figure.Gone are the days of walking around looking like a brown paper sack.

Despite J's protest, I refused to part with my Chucks, but did agree to a couple styles of Doc Martens, and some sandals.

Jordan's friendship has meant the world to me.Her bold personality and unwavering confidence have influenced me, shaping me into a stronger woman.I've never felt more sure of myself than I do now.

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