Jaffa Cakes: Chapter 4

Taylor 27th August 2011

I went to a party tonight, but most of it, I don't remember.

I remember being stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom. My tight bodycon skirt just about covered my bum and my t-shirt covered the bruises on my shoulders and back. More make up than ever. My platform shoes made me feel more confident, and made me taller than my tiny Dad.

I hate him so much.

I swept my hair off my shoulders and touched the bruises gingerly. I didn't want to go to the party. I wanted to curl up and cry. I wanted to tell Jade the reason I have become such a snotty cow. She deserves better than me, but I can never give her up. She's all I have.

I headed downstairs, my face wiped of all emotion. I could hear the murmur of some crap television show coming from the living room, and the rumble of Dad's laughter. He must have had too much to drink. Again.

I opened the door and his head whipped round to look at me. He narrowed his eyes. Dad is small and fat with a red face and a beefy neck. He is a very successful business man, so our house is huge, but I never get pocket money or presents, not even at Christmas or birthdays. The room was a smoky haze, as Dad smokes cigarettes like there is no tomorrow. I hope all the alcohol and smoking will kill him someday soon.

He leaned over and stubbed his cigarette out on my arm, trying to get me to react. I didn't give him the satisfaction. I resisted choking on the smoke mixed with the bad smell of his body odour.

"Look, it's Taylor the Tart," he chuckled to himself. "And where is the Tart going?"
"Out. To a party," I said coolly.
"Alright, get lost then. And try not to come back," he laughed. It came out like a wheeze.
I stepped out the house, touching my arm where his cigarette burned me and gulped back tears. I can't let him win. I won't let him win.

Later on, I was sat in Layla's living room. There were lots of us in there, and I was sat on some guy called Joe's (or is it Ben?) knee, his arms wrapped around my waist. I wasn't particularly happy, but I felt better than I had in days. As though someone cared about me. Not that Joe (Ben?) actually cared. Which is fine because I didn't care either. I took a swig of beer, and Joe (Ben?) started kissing me. I was so wrapped up in what’s-his-name that I almost didn't notice Jade come into the room. Almost. She looked flawless, though she was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She even had a hat on, for God's sake! Who else other than Jade can look amazing wearing a panda hat that was in fashion two years ago in winter? Honestly. She should have looked ridiculous, but she didn't. She turned every body's head the way I never could, even if only for a second. She was chatting to Liam, with a genuine, none fake smile on her face, and I wondered what it must be like to be happy. She waved to me shyly, as though we haven't been best friends for four years. One of Dylan's friends wolf whistled her and she blushed crimson, and then Dylan laughed and dragged her away, putting an arm around her skinny little waist. I can't believe how jealous I am of her. Why can't I be Jade? She must be the luckiest girl in the world.