Want Coffee with That Gucci?

“It was an accident! I promise,-!” I was cut off as I was slapped across the face. My stepmother, Kristen glared at me, seething.

“Shut your mouth, you DISGUSTING mongrel!” She roared in my face, causing me to wince. “How DARE you even THINK about being around my beautiful girl!”

My stepsister, Fiona was the same age as me, Sixteen years old, but she acted like she was eleven. Kristen had married into my family a year ago and she’d never liked me, even from the start. I guess she wasn’t too fond of hot pink mohawks and weird tattoos. Especially on girls. However, she didn’t scream at me this way around Dad. Instead, she gave me backhanded and passive-aggressive comments, which my dad took as nothing but simple criticisms.

Fiona was just as bad, except she treated me like her servant. Constantly asking me for everything, borrowing my clothes without permission, and anything else you can think of. Thing is, everyone thought she was perfect and popular because she’s SO nice and SO pretty!

Gag. Me.

Now, back to before. Fiona was watching as her mom ripped me a new one, all because I’d gotten coffee on her daughters’ new clothes. It had been a total accident. We’d both been coming home from hanging out with our friends.

The thing is, there’s this one stone in our walkway that is slightly higher than the rest. I knew this and so did Fiona but I was saying bye to my friends and I wasn’t paying attention. My foot connected with the stone and I tripped. My dark chocolate mocha went flying out of my hand and all over Fiona’s shopping bag.

So, here we are with an angry, thick make-up wearing mother screaming in my face. She paused from her rant, chest heaving, and eyes wild. I was still standing there, cringing and waiting for her to speak. When she inhaled again, the next stream of words were several things about my mother that she shouldn’t have said and that I won’t repeat. Instead, I snapped.

“You don’t know a THING about MY MOTHER!” I snapped, my head snapping up and my back straightening. Kristen stepped back, startled by my retaliation. “I would tell you to stick to the things you know, but honestly? It seems like you don’t know a goddamn thing.” I picked up my fallen coffee cup, which still had some liquid left inside. I turned it over and poured it on her Gucci shoes as I looked her in the eye the whole time.

Kristen looked at me, her mouth wide open.

“How dare you! You little-!”

“Tell someone who cares.” I hissed, stalking back towards the house. “I was trying to get along with you for Dad’s sake, but y’ know what? Not anymore. NO ONE talks to me that way.”

Then, I slammed the door on their coffee-soaked, awe-struck asses.