Rolling My Eyes

"I am leaving," she said, but he got to them first. "Give me my keys," she smiled sweetly at him. Damn. She still wanted to smile at him. He laughed and smiled right back. "Not a chance." "I don't want to be here," she replied. She meant it. "Give me my keys." "But I already took back everything I gave you. You're shit out of luck." He laughed, right in her face. She had agreed he could have it all back if he wanted, afterall, she knew. And it had not bothered her. Even though she would really miss the Guns n' Roses album. It had not bothered her too much. To give back the things he had gave her. She had not even thought of her car. Or the fact that he owned half of it. So while he laughed, she shook her head and when he was done, she said, "It does not matter. I did not own a car six months a go. I know how to get around this town." She reached down for the coat; near her feet. She put it on. ...

Minnie was 14. She liked wearing bright red lipstick and getting high. Minnie also liked to get drunk. Phillip liked getting drunk too, but all his friends had plans. "Minnie," he said to her, when he saw her going into the girls room, during class time. "Minnie, do you wanna come over on Saturday night?" And Minnie sneered at him. "Fuck off, asshole," she said. And she watched him as he did. Minnie sat on her bed Friday night. Listening to her mother. On the phone, in the kitchen. Still only coming out of her bedroom when she had to. "Mom...Mom....I know, Mom...." She repeated, into the phone. When Minnie could not listen to whining anymore, she reached over to her stereo and put on Fleetwood Mac as loud as she could. She listened to Go Your On Way and thought of Tommy. When her mother came downstairs she noticed her, but pretended not to. Until her mother reached over and unplugged the stereo. "What the fuck?" Minnie said. And ...