Chapter Three: Ashamed

"What's going on, mom?" I inquired as I sat down on the couch that I could barely make out in the pitch black.

"Give me your purse." She requested solemnly. I didn't dare question her, my mom was the most relaxed person ever, she was bubbly and young-minded, she was the definition of innocence and I had literally never seen her so fuming. "Sit." I was commanded as I handed over my purse. I heard my mom's heels clicking to the other side of the room and the light flipped on.

My eyes took a while to adjust to the lighting in the room but as soon as they did I wished they hadn't. I wished I hadn't left Alex's car. I wished I was anywhere but here.

In front of me on the coffee table was my fake ID, an eighth of cannabis, an almost empty packet of cigarettes, a print out of Facebook messages between my dealer and I, three litre bottles of vodka, a six pack of durex and my uh… my vibrator.

"You'd better start talking. Right. Now." She hissed at me, she looked dismayed. Like she'd been torn apart; realistically she probably had by what she'd found in my room. I leant forward and went to pick up the piece of paper with my Facebook messages on but my mom quickly slapped my hand away harshly before I could even touch it.

"It's not what it looks like… I…" I trailed off, I was busted. For the first time I couldn't come up with a lie quick enough to get myself out of the scolding hot water I was currently in.

"Is it all yours?" My mom demanded quietly, sitting on the couch opposite the one I was situated on. She crossed her lips and took her glasses of, pinching the bridge of her nose in distress. I couldn't make any words come out, the lump in my throat seemed to be expanding by the second and I felt like I was on the verge of puking any second.

"You know it is," I croaked out as a tear slipped down my cheek. For a split second my mom looked like she wanted to get up and wipe it away but the look of compassion disappeared quicker than it had appeared and she switched her facial expression to unreadable.

"Let's start from the left and make our way to the right, shall we?" She asked with a false sweetness in her voice which genuinely petrified me. "This ID, where did you get it and what do you use it for?"

"I uh… I got it from a friend back in Cali, I used it back there to get into clubs with my friends, by cigarettes and alcohol." I admitted honestly, finding my voice a little more. There was no point in lying to her or denying anything, she'd get worse if I lied. My mom simply nodded then pointed to the weed. "That was from the guy you have the messages from, I… well, as you can see for that particular bag I slept with him because I had no money. I smoke it occasionally when I'm stressed or want to forget about things. You have never seen me stoned, I've always stayed out." I added the end part hoping it might make things slightly better, although realistically it wouldn't. At that moment I wanted to look in a mirror to check my pupils weren't different than they should have been from the joint I smoked earlier.

"A-and I… I take it the v-vodka, cigarettes and F-Facebook messages were all expl… explained just then?" She wondered aloud shakily. I looked up at her and caught a glimpse at her face; she was ghostly pale and looked like she was as nauseous as me, on the verge of throwing up at the slightest sudden movement. I made an 'mhm' sound to answer her and she picked up the packet of condoms. "These?" She questioned, throwing them back at the table as if they were infected with the plague.

"Better to be safe than sorry?" I tried with a hopeful attempt at a smile. Her lips never even twitched, her face stayed the same.

"And… th… that." She stated as if it were something disgusting.

"Mom, I've only slept with two guys, my dealer and Braydon from back home. If it wasn't for that then that number would probably be much higher, women have needs and you know that." I told her, stressing my point, cringing at the memory of the one time I walked in on my prim-and-proper innocent angel of a mother masturbating.

"How long has all of this been going on?" She whispered, barely audibly. I held up three fingers, hoping she'd get the picture and guess. She realised I wasn't answering and was forced to look at me for the first time since I left for work. She noticed my fingers then looked away. "Three months?" She asked me, shocked. I shook my head embarrassedly and she gasped, "Three years?"

"Yes."

That was all it took for my mom to get up and run to the downstairs bathroom. I heard the door slam followed by her retching. I made her sick; I actually made my own mother sick. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was one I'd never experience before, I felt sick myself but instead of complying with my own needs I walked cautiously into the bathroom and stood behind my mom.

As I went to take her hair in my hands she slapped them away again. "Don't you dare fucking touch me." She snapped at me viciously. That took me by shock more than anything else at all that night; my mom literally never swore. I'd never even heard her say 'crap' when she dropped something or even when she broke her toe.

I backed out of the toilet and ran upstairs to my room, literally sobbing.

I entered my room and it was completely bare. Literally all that was in there was my bed, my closet which only had my school uniform in and my desk that was used for homework. She'd taken everything. I leant under the bed to retrieve my laptop to find that that too was missing.

I screamed angrily in to my pillow, everything was fucked.

I couldn't remember falling asleep but at five o'clock I heard my name, my full name, being called from my bedroom door. I opened my eyes and tiredly rubbed them, memories of the previous night flooding back as I noticed the lock that was formerly on the inside of my door had been taken off.

"Michelle, get out of bed and get downstairs. I know it's early but we need to talk. We need to sort things out and we need to fix things." My mom whisper-yelled to me. I took in her facial features; she had no makeup on and her hair was in a bun on top of her head. Her red pyjamas were covered by a pink robe and she was rubbing her eyes tiredly.

Once she realised I was up she turned on her heel and stalked downstairs. Five minutes later we were sat in the same positions we were last night, all of my incriminating evidence still laid out on the table. "We have two choices now, both of these suggestions are genuinely serious and whichever one you choose is the one we will do, choose wisely because whichever one you pick initially you will be stuck with."

My mom was really asserting her authority; she'd never once been strict with me because I'd never given her any reason to. I nodded to show her I understood.

"Option one, you're grounded for a month, meaning you will get up, you'll go to school, you'll be made to stay on site during lunch at school, you'll come home, go to your room, do your homework, go to work, eat dinner and not leave the house. You'll have no phone, no TV rights, every time I'm out of the house I'll take you with me, your room will stay the way it is and I'll take your wages from work and you can have them back when you're ungrounded again." She explained firmly, I knew she meant business; there would be no reasoning, nor any deal-making.

"Or, option two, which personally I think you need, you'll get in my car right now and I will drive you to a treatment centre where you'll get proper professional help with your drug and alcohol problems along with any other issues I don't know about. You'll stay there for a month minimum until you're better and you will have no temptation around you." She suggested, seeming more hopeful about that one. I knew which one I should choose, I knew I should choose to go into treatment to get proper help because it couldn't help and it wasn't like I was really addicted, but I wasn't willing to miss out on months of my life to try and kick a habit I'd be straight back into within a week of being out.

"I'll stay here. I'll take my punishment and I'll kick the habits here without help to prove to you that I'm not addicted to anything, I'm just having fun. I know, mom, I know that it kills you, it's killing me to see what I've done to you but I'll change, I promise." I yawned through my words as I got up, assuming we were done. I cautiously crept over to her and went to wrap my arms around her in a hug but she pulled away from me as I began to lean down.

"Not yet. We will fix things but not right now. You need to work to regain my trust and my respect. In nearly eighteen years I've only ever been able to say 'I'm so proud of my little girl,' but now, I can honestly say, that I am completely and utterly ashamed of you. Now go back to bed seeing as this took less time than I suspected. Go back to bed and sleep for a bit whilst I cry for another two hours, on top of the seven and a half last night, about what my little baby girl has turned into." My mom monotonically told me. Every time she opened her mouth I got more hurt by her words, I really didn't think she'd ever find out about it all.

Several hours later I was at school, my mind wondering everywhere except the work in front of me on my desk. I played over last night's events in my mind; my mom, my stuff on the table, Alex.

Alex.

I couldn't stop thinking about why I'd got the urge to kiss her. I didn't understand why my eyes had been drawn to her arse and cleavage at every chance they got. I was so confused; I'd always found girls attractive, I thought every girl did. Thinking back, I thought about my ex-boyfriend Braydon and how whenever we'd slept together it was always more of a chore than a pleasure, how I'd subconsciously tried to get out of going out with him or avoided him in school. I'd never really thought about it before but Alex made it all play in my mind.

It was morning break, I had nowhere to go because I didn't really know anyone yet; people weren't exactly welcoming. They weren't mean or horrible or anything along those lines, they just ignored me. I didn't make an attempt to speak to anyone but no one tried to speak to me either.

I got up from the desk I was sitting at during my Chemistry lesson and walked up to the teacher, waited until the class had cleared then spoke to the teacher whose name I was yet to learn.

"Miss, I was wondering if you could tell me where the guidance counsellor's office is?" I asked her nervously. I wanted some answers.

"Yes, dear. It's down the corridor, left then up the stairs. It's right in front of you from there. How are you finding things here so far?" The elder woman asked me kindly. She looked to be around her mid-forties and her blonde hair was gradually turning grey.

"Thank you. Yeah, it's fine; it's very… different." I told her, trying to think of an appropriate word. I finished my statement by tugging at the compulsory black knee-skirt I was wearing. "I'm not used to having to wear a uniform." I told her quietly before turning to leave.

I knocked on the door of the guidance counsellors office before being greeted with a muffled 'come in,' Pulling down the handle I had second thoughts about going in; What if she called my mom? After everything I'd put her through last night I couldn't deal with hurting her again.

"Hey there, I'm Mrs Goldman," She introduced herself kindly, putting her hand out for me to take. "You must be new, I don't recognise you." She stated as I sat down on the seat in front of her desk. I nodded and took her hand, shaking it gently.

"Michelle Torres… I go by Mitchie though." I added quickly, not wanting her to start actually calling me Michelle.

"Okay then, Mitchie. What can I do for you today?" She asked kindly, tucking her chair in further under the desk. I blushed slightly at what I was about to ask her and didn't open my mouth to speak. "Whatever you tell me, within reason, is confidential and I only have to tell anyone if you're in danger or if anyone else is. I'm not judging you and anything that's said in here will stay between us." She explained when she picked up on my nervousness.

I visibly relaxed a little, letting out the breath I didn't know I was holding and pressing my knees tighter together so I was certain nothing was on show.

"I need some… advice," I told her, trying to think of the correct word. Mrs Goldman nodded for me to carry on, I took a shaky breath and let me question out. "What can you tell me about um… sexualorientation?" I asked, quickly and quietly squeezing out the last part.

"May I ask why you're asking?" She leant forward and knitted her fingers together, resting her hands on the desk in between us. "If you don't want to answer me you don't have to, but sometimes it helps me to get a picture of what I should be telling you and it may help you to get it off your chest if you want to."

"I uh… I met a girl last night, I just… I don't know, felt this undeniable attraction to her. Like, I had a really strong urge to kiss her and be near her, I couldn't breathe around her and my stomach was in knots. I can't get her out of my mind today." I explained shakily. This was new territory for me; I'd never express anything like this to anyone that had the right to call my mom and tell her. The warning bell rang, signalling the end of break.

"I'm so sorry but I have an appointment now that it's fourth period. What period do you have your lunch?" She apologetically asked me, pushing her glasses on to her head to hold her hair back.

"Sixth." I told her.

"I'll send a note to remind you at the end of fifth lesson, you can excuse yourself early once it arrives and we'll talk more then, if that's okay with you?" I nodded in response, getting up and grabbing my bag with me.

"This doesn't… you don't have to tell my mom do you?" I wondered aloud nervously. Mrs Goldman shook her head gently and smiled at me.

"Of course I don't, this is private like I said. You haven't expressed any wishes to hurt yourself or anyone else and this is all normal for a girl of your age. Don't worry; it won't go any further than us just talking,"

I nodded again, struggling to find words after what I'd just admitted. As I strolled down the corridor to room 109 for a Spanish lesson I thought back to Alex; how her hair fell perfectly on her shoulders, how her smile made my heart stop and how when she inhaled smoke she closed her eyes and made something so disgusting look so graceful.

Before I knew it, it was five minutes until the end of fifth period and sure enough, there was a knock at the door before a freshman or maybe a sophomore boy walked in, handing a pink post-it note to my teacher. "Mitchie Torres, you're wanted in the guidance counsellors office. You may be excused." He announced as I picked up my bag. A few people whispered as I got up but I ignored it, of course that was going to happen.

"Mitchie, hi. I'm sorry about earlier, let's carry on, shall we?" She offered as she gestured toward the chair for me to sit down.

"Yeah sure," I whispered meekly.

"Okay, so, you've met a girl and you're attracted to her. Has this ever happened before?" She asked me, not being intrusive, just trying to get an idea of everything.

"I don't know, I guess so, yeah. `I mean, I've always found girls attractive and I've always just kind of thought like 'yeah, okay, everyone does that,' but yesterday, I know that not every girl feels like that. Pretty girls always catch my eye but I've never… I've never wanted to…" I trailed off awkwardly, this was the embarrassing part. "I've never really wanted to touch them. Like, I've had boyfriends, I've slept with those boyfriends and it was okay. I mean like, it was bearable. It wasn't horrible or forced or anything, I did it because I felt that was normal but I don't really think I enjoyed it." I explained to her, feeling heat rise to my cheeks at my admission.

"Have you heard of the term lesbian before?" I cringed slightly, of course I'd heard the word before but I'd never heard it thinking that it could possibly be referring to me. I nodded and she continued. "How would you feel if that applied to you?"

"I think I'd feel… I don't know, I'd kind of be stuck with it so I guess I'd just have to accept it. Thinking about it now, it would make a lot of sense," I began, not really certain where I was going with it. "I think that maybe, if it does apply to me, I'd like to know if it applies to Alex. I mean, it probably doesn't, she's too beautiful to be gay but if it did then I think that would make me really happy." I admitted to her. It felt great to speak my mind and not worry that she was going to call my mom or judge me for what I was saying.

Mrs Goldman smiled supportively at me and got up from her seat. She grabbed a pamphlet from the rack elevated on the back wall. "Here's some information for you to keep, there's also some support groups and twenty-four hour free phone-support services for you." I looked down at the royal blue pamphlet in my hand, it had crisp white bold letters on the front that simply read 'Top Teen Worries: Am I Gay?' then in smaller writing along the bottom is said 'what to do if you're questioning your sexual orientation.' I looked up and Mrs Goldman and smiled, placing the pamphlet in my bag to read later.

"Now, earlier you seemed a little worried that I might inform your mom… Do you mind me asking why?"

"It's just… until last night I'd never caused her any trouble, then she found out everything I didn't want her to know about me. If she found out about this right now, I think it would push her over the edge."

"Are you self-medicating to deal with things?" The young counsellor asked me sweetly. I nodded slowly, cautiously. "Do you think that maybe… you're doing what you do to block out the thoughts that you acknowledged last night?" She suggested with an eyebrow raised.

I thought about it, I only really got drunk or stoned when I was finding girls more attractive than I should have been or when I wasn't finding guys attractive enough. I was getting high or drunk whenever I knew I'd have to have sex. Pieces of the puzzle were really falling together.

"Yes."

Okay guys, I want this to get up to thirty reviews before I update again because I'm quickly losing interest in this one, I need some motivation. Idea's are welcome! Sorry if there are mistakes in this, haven't proof-read it.

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