Page 70 of Hate Like Ours

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“Why were you in the rain, Raine? See what I did there?” she asks, laughing.

“Yeah, you’re quite the comedian today,” I tell her with a roll of my eyes, but a smile forms on my face. She’s goofy at times but I love it.

“You know you get sick fast when you’re in the rain,” she scolds, but there isn’t any heat in her words. They’re true though because I’ve been known to get sick over the littlest of things.

“I know, Mom. I was hanging out with Kinsley outside and the rain just came down out of nowhere,” I lie. I hate lying to her, but there is no way I can tell her the truth, for obvious reasons. Those reasons being one—she’ll kill me and two—she’ll fucking murder me.

What am I going to say anyway? Oh, you know, I was in the rain because I was high as hell and drunk and almost fell off a bridge but then the guy who hates me surprisingly saved me and then boned me in the rain? Yeah, I can imagine how well that conversation would go down.

“Do you want to stay home today or do you still want to go to school?” she questions. Given the chance, I’m taking it because I hate school now. I used to be the one who went no matter how I was feeling but now, it’s just an added stressor. It hasn’t been good for me or my mental health.

“I’ll just stay home today,” I tell her.

“Okay. I’ll call the school and let them know, and then I’ll make breakfast before I leave. Come down and eat and then you can come back to bed,” she says, her tone letting me know there’s no room for argument. She knows how I get when I’m sick and that’s barely having the energy to eat anything. Now that people have been constantly making nasty comments about my weight, I want to eat even less.

I’m surprised that the school hasn’t called her already with the number of times I’ve already skipped. I guess even the school officials don’t care about the outcast. I’m glad they haven’t because Lord knows my mother would ground me until the end of time if she ever found out.

“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her, and she kisses my forehead before she gets up and walks out of my room again.

I get up and out of my bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower. I’m hoping that’ll at least make me feel a little better. After I’m done eating, I have plans to get right back into my bed where I’m going to spend the rest of the day.

The hot water from my shower stings my skin, especially where I made the new cuts yesterday. At this rate, my life is just in a never-ending loop of the same things happening over and over again, and I hate all of it.

Once I dry off, I put on a hoodie and some shorts to hide the scars before heading down to the kitchen. Mom is already finished cooking, and I see two plates on the island. She’s in her chair sitting and waiting for me. She thinks she can pull one over on me but I know exactly what she’s doing right now. She’s just going to sit there to make sure I eat all my food. I guess she thinks eating with me will hide the fact that she’s spying.

“You don’t have to babysit me you know,” I tell her, giving her a smirk to let her know I know what she’s up to.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just hungry and I need all my energy today since it’s going to be a super long day,” she tells me, feigning nonchalance.

“I love you, Mom,” I tell her.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” she replies.

A second later, I have a coughing fit. Yep, I definitely have a cold. We both finish our food and she gives me some medicine to drink for my cough and cold before she hurries out the door.

I haven’t taken it yet because I have something else to do first. I make my way back up to my room and head straight into the bathroom. I kneel in front of the toilet and push a finger down my throat so that I can make myself throw up.

I throw up all the contents of my stomach as tears slip down my cheeks. I know I shouldn’t be doing this but I can’t seem to help myself. I keep thinking that if I lose some weight, I’ll be able to fit in more and maybe they won’t bully me anymore.

That’s the only thing going through my mind when I don’t eat or when I make myself throw up after eating. Every time I walk through the halls of that school, it feels like they’re all watching and judging me because I don’t have a supermodel body.

I just want to exist and not have people make comments about my weight. I tried to stop making myself throw up after eating but when I do, I feel sick. The feeling of needing to throw up bombards me and then I have to do it. It’s sick I know, but I can’t seem to help it.

After I’m done purging my stomach, I brush my teeth again and head back into my room. I take off my pants and just leave the hoodie on. I take the medicine my mom left for me and then I take another one of the pills I got from the guys.

I got two different ones. One to help me focus when I’m studying and one to just get me high when I need it. Plus I read up that one of them will probably help me lose weight and I need that now more than ever. I hope that in no time, I’ll be able to lose all this extra weight.

I lie in bed as the feeling of being in the cloud washes over me again. This feeling is getting addicting and I want more and more of it every day. It’s nice to have something that lets you not think about your problems for a while.

I must have eventually fallen asleep because when I come to again, my mind is foggy and I’m tired as hell. I look at the time and see that it’s five p.m. I can’t believe it. I slept most of the day away.

I look at my texts and see that Mom texted me to see how I was doing. I reply, telling her I just woke up and that I’m feeling a bit better.

Aiden also texted me. I sent him a text, telling him that I was sorry for the late text but I was a bit under the weather. I inhale and realize that I can breathe a little better. I also smell something weird and my lips are dry as hell. I hope I wasn’t drooling in my sleep.

When I stand up, I feel the wetness between my legs and wonder what the hell I was dreaming about. I hope it wasn’t some stupid dream about Knox. I must have been sleeping really deep to not remember a thing.

Knowing that I can’t work like this, I take a quick shower and pull on a pair of shorts and a shirt before I grab my laptop to get started on this paper I have to write.