Damaged Beyond Repair by Kashmira Kamat (KittyKash) (ebook reader below 3000 .txt) 📖

"Have you by any chance gorked out of your brains?"

"Why?" I asked Nina while I wrote my English essay due the next day.

A week has passed since I last met Mister Vogue cover in the park, I thought mentioning any of that to Nina would only cause melodrama and endless gossip. I could pass on that one.

"You can't be writing some shitty English essay when you have five goddamn chapters to study for economics. You gotta have a serious death wish if you think you can pull that off within a few hours, woman."

Oh Crap!

"Don't tell me the test which he mentioned last week is tomorrow."

"Yes, it is."

I slammed the book shut and rummaged in my bag for the economics textbook.

I was a major goner.

We studied the chapter glossaries and other stuff that were likely to show up in the test; so far we'd only covered two chapters. I stayed up until two in the morning, without bothering to eat much during dinner. I felt agitated, nervous, and jittery all the same. I thought university was going to be fun, it's what the pass outs drilled in your head when you were in high school. That was a freakin' illusion. This was the worst case of out of the fire and into the frying pan, and irony was a bitch.

My mom made sure I wasn't getting time to breathe so I wouldn't even bother to ring her up or disturb the eerie peace that they enjoyed so much. No wonder that woman was so excited while I applied for Carmel. Who needs the kind of mother if she doesn't need me? So long as the college bills were paid. It was good. I almost snorted at the sudden memory that poked in my head. It was shortly after I'd unpacked my luggage in the Carmel dorm.

"Did you settle well?" My mom had asked with her usual fake enthusiasm.

"Yeah mom, I did." I refused to pour details.

"Good."

"Chez was the one who helped me with all the paperwork and..."

"We'll transfer more cash into your account once daddy gets time off, okay, sweetie?"

See what I mean, when I say she doesn't give a hay?

"Thanks mom."

"Sure baby, uh—"she continued, "Listen, Alana, I need to get going. I'll call you later?"

"Sure mom. Say hi to dad for me."

My father was the only person why I still spoke to this woman. I know what you're thinking.

Nope. She's my real mother.

None of it mattered to me anymore; I made it a point to ignore the burning ache that flared inside in my chest, suffocating me. I never spoke about it to anyone, not even Chez. My mother lived in a world of misconception, thinking money could buy her only daughter happiness. I hadn't once doubted her so-called love for me, until one day during grade nine, when a school bus skidded on the wet roads resulting in a life-threatening accident.

Chez's parents were more worried about me then, my mother ever could be. His mother brought me chicken soup and everything else my mother was supposed to do. My dad cared, alright, but his case and his court drama never left him much time for me. That wasn't his fault.

There was a part of me that envied Chez just a wee bit. He wasn't wealthy or couldn't afford the best but, seemed to have everything I could ever want.

Everything I dreamed of having.

* * *

I rushed back to class in the morning with a brewing coffee cup in my hand. I almost barged in on a very impatient and brooding Mr. Masters.

Ten minutes late. Bummer.

The line outside of the cafe was never-ending. Nina showed at the nick of time, pushed through most of the people, ignoring the stink eye and a few ear-piercing words. She still managed to order us a caramel latte and a donut. Foul play was part of her everyday routine, apparently.

Thankfully, a good amount of caffeine helped the sleep to wear off. I hadn't been able to revise for the test, let alone open the book. Mr. Masters distributed the question sheets, "I will collect your answers exactly after forty-five minutes. Your time starts now."

I scanned the question sheet. Damn this. There wasn't a single question I'd studied; it was like walking into a lion's den and declaring you were out of meat stock. Nevertheless, I wrote whatever I knew.

Forty-five minutes later the professor collected our answer sheets. Nina had brushed through most of the stuff, judging by the look on her face, she was surely flunking and I was positive to join her Flunk club. The rest of the classes took an eternity to end. Towards the end of the last hour, Mr. Demon Professor took the liberty of interrupting during my history class.

"Sorry to interrupt your class Ms. Vladovski," he smiled at her politely; the blush on Ms. Vladovski's face was evident though it was a shame Mr. Masters remained on the blind side of knowing how much impact he had over the female species.

He faced me directly. At that very moment I wished I could stab myself to death. "I need you to see me after class, in my office."

"Yes, sir."

Chez passed me a quizzical look, sort of 'you better beware'.

After Ms. Vladovski was done with the class, I made my way towards Block D at snail's pace to Mr. Masters's office, the supposed hell on earth. To my utter relief, I found Nina standing outside of Mister Demon Professor's office door, biting her already bitten nails, probably thinking of ways she could bail her visit.

"Why are you here?" I asked her.

"The same reason you are." She said casually like this was the nearest barista and she was a regular.

"Do I look good?"

Nina's eye ran a scan. "Seducing tactics do not work with our professor. Just sayin'." She made a sour face, inspecting her nails. "It wouldn't matter even if you're wearing the best lingerie you could find in Victoria's Secret because you and I are about to get boiled, skinned, and sacked. I bet he has some new torture devices he's busy putting up. Don't tell me I didn't warn you."