Chapter 5: Pour Some Sugar on Me

I walk into school Monday with pink tips on my hair, a white Sex Pistols shirt with black and pink lettering, pants that start at the top black and fade all the way to the bottom till the bottom was pink, and one black Converse shoe and one pink Converse shoe.

I walk to my locker and open it and once it's open, it's shut again.

"Craig? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong, you slut?" his words pierced my heart. "You lied to me! I saw you making out in the park with J.T. on Friday. You won't go out with me, but you'll go out with J.T.?"

"But- Craig- you don't"

"I don't what? I don't have what J.T. has? I bet you went home and had sex with him, didn't you. Because you're a slut and a whore. You told me you didn't like Manny because you thought she was two-faced and tried too hard to be Christina Aguilera. Manny isn't like Christina Aguilera, you are, you slut." I slap him and run into the girl's bathroom.

I'm sitting in one of the stalls, when I hear two voices calling my name.

"Delia? It's Ellie and Hazel. Are you okay?"

"Does it seem like I'm okay?"

"I guess not."

"Delia, please come out, we want to talk to you."

"Why? So you guys can call me nasty names too?"

"No! We want to help. Craig was completely out of line." I reluctantly come out of the bathroom and lean against the sinks.

"Craig's right, you know. I am a slut and a whore."

"No you're not."

"How would you know? Did for 9 years of your life, did your father molest you and tell you that it was love, that anything else was bull? Did you fear going to bed at night because you knew that your father was going to come in and touch you, and tell you that if you ever told your mother, that he would kill you and your only sister? Did your mom come in when you were 14 to get your laundry and you just happened to be changing your clothes and did she happen to see the bruises on your legs? Did your mother and yourself scream, cry, and yell at your father later that night? Did your mother just happen to kill your father? Did your mother claim permanent insanity in court and get put in a mental institution and happen to just kill herself while she was there? Did you run to the person you thought was your friend's house the night your mother shot your father and tell her everything? Did your friend tell the whole school about you? Did everyone start calling you 'daddy's little whore' and slut and slag and the worst names possible? Did your perfect sister and her perfect fucking fiancée come and rescue and take you from the one place where you were truly happy to a hellhole? No, I don't think so, because you guys are living fucking Polly Pure lives in your fucking Polly Pure town. Understand?"

"Wow." Ellie said. "Just. Wow."

"I'm so sorry." Hazel said to me.

"Don't be. It's unnecessary."

"Craig is a rat. No, he's fleas on rats. No, He's amoebas on fleas on rats. He's-"

"I get it, Hazel." I splash some water on my face and dry my face off and apply some more eyeliner.

"What you need, is a night with the girls. Come on, I'm having Paige, Ashley, and Hazel over for a girls night. How 'bout you come too?"

"I wouldn't want to impose..."

"You wouldn't be! We can swap 'Craig is a slimeball' stories. Come tonight, please?"

"Fine. I'm gonna be late for homeroom if I don't go now. You guys?"

"Yea?" they replied in unison.

"Thanks. Was everyone staring?"

"Not really. No one was there except..." Hazel said.

"Oh no, J.T."

So we walk out of the bathroom together.