Fulton
I wasn't going to do it here. I was going to wait until morning, wait until she sobered up, and then end it. She deserved that much, I told myself. That was until I came in from the deck and heard her telling some girls that it was HER boyfriend's house and that HER boyfriend was an All-American. I stood and listened as she continued talking bragging about me like that. While part of me liked that she was proud of me, a much larger part was getting upset with her. She never referred to me by name, always "my boyfriend." It had been like that for a while now. When we were alone, she would barely touch me and say maybe two words. We would watch tv on my bed and then she would go home. When people were around, which was often since she hated to stay in for a night even when I had two a day practices, she was all over me, making sure everyone knew who she was with. Suddenly, my honorable intentions of letting her go were gone and I was grabbing hold of her elbow.
"Hey sweetie," Tammy said turning to kiss me.
"We need to talk," I stated plainly, pulling my head back so she couldn't reach my face.
Tammy looked nerviously at the group of girls she had been trying to impress and giggled, "About what baby?"
I gently, but firmly pulled her away from them, towards the arch leading to the room with the beer in it.
"We're done Tammy," I stated.
Shock filled her face for a moment before anger took over.
"What? Who do you think you are? You don't dump me, I dump you!"
"You don't have to make a scene," I reply dryly.
"You break up with me at one of the biggest parties of the year and you tell me NOT to make a scene? You're lucky I'm not throwing shit at you!" She screamed.
Suddenly, the rage that was filling her left and a smile crossed her lips. Well, it was actually more of a smirk.
"I don't know why I just threatened that. I mean, its not your stuff around here, it's Banksie's stuff. Lord knows that you wouldn't be able to afford any of the stuff in here. I bet the roomies had to chip in to buy you your bed. You may be a big shot now, an amazing hockey player or whatever, but you were just poor white trash when I met you, Fulton Reed, and that's what you are today."
Anger filled every nerve ending that I had.
"Give me your key Tammy," I said, fighting back the urge to scream at her.
She pulled out her key ring and removed one from the ring.
"Here," she said handing it to me, still smug. Suddenly, she pulled her hand, and the key, back, "Wait, maybe I should give this to Banksie since it's his house."
"That won't be necessary," I replied, grabbing it out of her hand, "For the record though Tammy, I don't mind being white trash because I can rise above it. You, on the other hand, will always be a selfish little bitch. Now leave."