Life Of A Bitch

31

"So basically, if there are two variants on either side of the equation with similar signs in front of them, cancel them."

"Oh, that's where I went wrong!"

"Exactly. See, algebra isn't that tough if you understand it."

"But, see, here's another problem. This one."

"Oh, that isn't an algebra question. That's a factorisation-"

Ugh, shut it! They're so loud!

At the moment, I'm sitting at my desk, trying to understand why the hell did I get a B at this French quiz. The teacher was all figure-it-out-yourself-honey-that'll-make-you-smarter.

Smarter, my foot. First of all, I don't get why we have to learn French. It's not my native language, I'm not planning to do a major in it. And if I ever go to France, what's Google Translate for?

"Ah, congruency. Very interesting chapter."

Secondly, Callaghan is speaking non-stop in the next room in that annoying tinny voice of hers which is irritating. Seriously, if she doesn't stop, I'll go mad and smash her head with the fat French Grammar. And I'm not just saying.

"See, congruency-"

Argh! I stand up, scowling and proceed to slam open their door, to shout at them to keep it down.

But I won't do it. Because A. I love my life and my mom and don't want to end up in a cemetery and her in jail. B. If I do this, Callaghan will think I'm getting jealous of her. But I won't give her the satisfaction.

So, instead, I pick up my headphones and turn on some pop songs.

I really don't enjoy bullying people.

Do I enjoy bullying people?

Do I?

If I do, then that makes me a really horrible person. But if I don't, that too makes me a horrible person because I'm not stopping what I'm doing to them.

It's a tough question to answer. I've been so caught up in being Jennifer Lewis, the pretty and popular girl of the school that I don't even know what I really like, or really feel.

Do you feel sorry for them when you bully them?

I don't know.

"Jen," Mom bursts in, jumping from one foot to another, half-dressed with her phone on her ear. "Will you do me a favour?"

"Sure." I stand up and eye her honestly messy bun and her upturned collar. "Where are you off to?"

"I've got a certain client to attend to." She says, panting. "It's an emergency and I've to leave right now. Can you do something for me?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Make some tea for Michelle and throw in a jam sandwich for Alz."

I squint at her. "Call- Michelle is Alz's tutor. She's not a guest. She just needs to teach her, take her salary and get out of here."

"Don't be rude, Jennifer!" She shouts and immediately quietens. Then in a loud whisper, she snarls, "Do what I tell you to do. Don't act smart. My nerves are already frayed and on top of that, my client is dying!"

"It was a heart attack," Mom adds and tries to calm down a sobbing person at the other end of the phone. "Darling, everything will be alright, I've handled numerous cases like this- no no honey, I wasn't talking to you! Why would I tell you to make tea at the hospital? What, you're already- come back! Stay where you are!"

She hangs up and kicks the bed-frame in frustration. I recoil a bit- these are her bad days. You never know what she does on her bad days.

"The wife is worried that the brothers will claim all the wealth of her husband," Mom huffs. "Crocodile tears and all."

"I'll go make tea." I stammer and smile at her.

She narrows her eyes at me. "You better."

Ten minutes later, I'm in the kitchen, pouring the tea into a cup and trying to remember if I put sugar in it or salt. Then slapping some jam on two slices of bread, I put the whole spread on a tray and proceed to Alz's room.

"Hi, Jennifer." Callaghan addresses me chirpily. I nod at her and keep the tray on the table.

"Uh, J, you're supposed to put the things on the table and take the tray back to the kitchen." Alz states. I roll my eyes and do as she says; I don't want her rat me off to Mom behind my back.

"The tea is a bit..salty?" Callaghan mutters as I'm about to leave the room.

"Oh, it's a tradition in our house to serve the guest with tea matching her personality," I retort and leave.

The audacity! My duty was to serve you tea; now, it's your duty to shut up and drink it.

'The tea is a bit salty.'

So what? It's a special kind of tea, made for the people who are desperate to get fame and attention. Isn't it delicious? I know you like it, don't deny.

"Hey, Jennifer."

I turn around and find Callaghan standing at the door to the kitchen.

"Do you need more salt?" I ask her, scrubbing the tray at the sink.

"No." She smirks and enters. "It's nice to see someone being jealous of me."

I drop the sponge and widen my eyes at her. "What did you say?"

"It's obvious that you're jealous of my newfound fame," she leans against the counter, clinking her nails against some glasses kept on the counter-top. "And that Stephanie and Lana are in my gang, now."

"I've got the guys," I retort, wiping the tray dry.

"Yeah right," she snorts. "The guys, you say? They're not your friends in any sense. They're just with you because you're Aiden's girlfriend. Aiden may break up any moment with you and then you're left to yourself, staring at the wall in your pajamas and crying."

"Shut up, please. You're here to teach, not to preach. Piss off."

"I'm here because it's my birthday this Thursday," she says. I raise my eyebrows at her.

"But I'm celebrating it on Saturday because no one likes a party on a school night," she says, smiling. "Not that you would get it."

"So what, get to the point."

"I'm inviting you, Jennifer, how can you be so stupid?" She groans.

"I'm not stupid; I was waiting for you to say it." I say and wipe my hand on my pants- yes, a nasty habit. "But, why are you inviting me? Am I not your rival?"

"Oh, no, I just want people to see the new queen and the ex-queen, side by side, laughing and talking like old friends."

Was this the same girl who was called the sweetest girl by every teacher at school a few weeks earlier?

"I'm not coming to any stinkin' party of yours." I bark and stomp out of the kitchen.

"Sure?" she calls out and walks up to me. "It's gonna be the hottest party of the year. Think again."

There was a time when Aiden and I threw the hottest parties for our folks.

Why did it change?

Swallowing my pride, I say as she is entering Alz's room. "I'll come if I have time."

"Oh will you? That's so sweet of you!" She gushes, standing in front of the wide open door. "And, I'm sorry if I offended you in any way earlier, with the tea and all. I'm sorry!"

I watch her, wide-eyed as she gets in.

She did all that because Alz was within hearing shot?

So that Alz will forever think of her as the victim whenever we get into a feud? Because she's her sweet tutor?

Lord, help me.