“Thanks,” I lied, feeling like complete shit and absolutely NOT feeling thankful one bit.
“Hey, you know what we should do?”
At this point, I honestly wanted Kathy to just leave my bedroom so I could be in peace the rest of the night, but something told me that she wanted to make things up to me. Something told me that after all this time, we were just the center for bad decisions. It wasn’t either of our faults that we were thrown into this situation and the fact that we had to deal with it so young could solely be blamed on our parents. So I gave her the benefit of the doubt, and I made direct eye contact with her, giving her the official facial expression of “I’m ready to hear anything.”
“We should switch spots.”
Before I could even ask her what she meant by this, she was pulling off her private school clothes behind my closed bedroom door and throwing it onto the bed in a messy pile. She reached in the back pocket of her pants on my bed and pulled out a stick of mascara. As she sat on the bed and drew closer to me, my eyes slammed shut and prepared for the worst but I felt a small brush above my lip and it was over. As I opened my eyes, still uncertain to which direction this plan was headed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed she had drawn her birth mark directly onto my face.
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