The Seven Deadly Virginia Slims

The Seven Deadly Virginia Slims

1.
“He who angers you conquers you.”

~ Elizabeth Kenny ~

I reached for my pack of cigarettes because when someone says, "we need to talk," you know it's going to be rough. Shane Holiday took my hand and dramatically led me out onto his balcony; the clatter of partiers humming inside was shushed by the closing of the sliding glass door. And then he dropped the news as I was inhaling.

"Your boyfriend Tate, is nailing Renee?" He stated bluntly and I coughed a cloud of smoke.

It was early in the party and I didn't want to be dealing with this.

"Renee Mallory? Chad’s ex?" I inquired and my face was getting hot. I could feel the intense rhythm of my heartbeat rattling through my veins and pounding in my chest.

Shane was motioning yes, in slow exaggerated nods.

"That bitch!" I continued. Cigarette still in hand, I turned on my heals and headed straight through the party. My target, Renee.

I abrasively grabbed her arm and jerked her towards me, not hard enough to really move her, but enough to throw her balance off and gain her attention. I unleashed my wrath, like gunfire and her face said she was guilty before her mouth did.

"I'm so sorry," she said in a calming tone, in a way that was more aimed at soothing me rather than out of genuine regret. "-But this isn't the time or place to discuss this. Perhaps we should take this to a more private location."

"I could care less if this conversation is private or not. I can give a fuck if you're embarrassed or not. You're a tramp, everyone knows it so I don't care how this conversation makes you look or feel."

The room fell silent and heads turned.

"Look, I said I was sorry." She repeated.

"Oh, ok... you apologized. Well, I guess that makes it all better then?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I don't want you to say anything." My voice was becoming more intense as the minutes rolled on. "I know you're not sorry and you saying it, just pisses me off more. If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't keep nailing all the guys in our school and fucking up every relationship."

"Stop yelling at me! I'm not your boyfriend, I'm not the one that's committed anything to you, and I don't owe you anything." Her face was red and her words came out in a flustered, face-paced tone, "Why don't you go yell at him?"

Renee gave a smirk and shrugged as if to say, "I can't help it if the men prefer me to their girlfriends." She didn't have to say it; it was all over her face.

"Yea, keep smiling Renee. You think you have one over on every girl, but I know the real deal; you're not good enough to have a guy longer than one night. You are nothing."

She stopped smiling.

I wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt me, so I continued to verbally hit below the belt.

"Keep whoring yourself around to make yourself feel needed, Renee -" and with that she balled up her fist and aimed it right at my face.

I guess being the victim in this situation becomes null and void, when you become the aggressor. When you verbally take an aim-shot at someone's ego and self worth, you shouldn’t be surprised when the fight becomes physical, but I was surprised.

2.

“There are some circles in America

where it seems to be more socially acceptable to carry a hand-gun

than a packet of cigarettes.”

~ Katharine Whitehorn ~

It happened so fast that I couldn't remember the details. The next thing I remembered was sitting in the bathroom with Shane holding a bag of frozen vegetables over one eye and Rude Boy, dressing a cigarette burn on my forehead.

"Honey, you really should learn to keep the cigarettes away from your face when someone’s about to punch you." Shane suggested.

"I forgot I even had the damned thing in my hand and I didn't know that bitch was going to start swinging."

"She knocked you out in one punch, ran through the party and started whaling on Tate. I guess she thought he was the one that told you. She was so bent out about you confronting her in front of... well, damned near the whole school. Three people had to pull her off of him. It was the best fight I've seen since those two cheerleaders went at it a year ago."

Chad stopped talking to let his mind replay that cheerleader visual for a minute and then focused his attention back onto me.

"Lets go get something to take the edge off, something a little stronger than the Miller Lite they have here." And when Chad says "something a little stronger," he means whiskey.

"Hey!" Shane scoffed, body stance switching flamboyantly to the I'm a little Tea Pot, position. "And what's wrong with Miller Lite Mister?"

"Nothing Shane, Miller is fuckin' fabulous." Chad scoffed shaking his head.

"Ok that sounds great, Mr. Jobless, but I'm low on the cash flow and can't afford stronger, right now."

"I've got it covered." Chad assured.

"What does that mean?"

"Lets just say that people don't pay attention to their purses when fists are being thrown, especially if they're the ones throwing them. Some greedy little fucker helped himself to something that wasn't his." He said, pulling a wad of money out of his pocket and then reached back in his back pocket for more, "And whattya' know, she also smokes Virginia Slims." He continued, waiving the slender box of cigarettes.

"You're bad... but far be it from me to judge others for their wrong doings. Besides, that cow nailed my boyfriend and made me burn my face, she owes me a drink." I finished, lighting up one of Renee's cigarettes.

"Hey," Shane grabbed the lit cigarette out of my mouth and flicked it into the toilet. "No smoking in my bathroom!"

3.
“The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.”
~William Penn ~

We surfaced out of the bathroom and walked through the party, in search of the stealthiest exit. My gaze lingered across the room and caught a glimpse of Renee, being calmed by a crowd of men. Even though she was my target for the evening, I wasn't as mad at her as I was at Tate.

She was right, she didn't owe me anything; she wasn't the one in the relationship with me. I was more envious than anything. Jealous that she seems to get the attention from men, that I wished I could have. Jealous of the fact that she could break through the bond that I thought Tate and I had, even if it was just on a physical level instead of a mental level. I guess boys aren't really capable of such connections, especially when being presented with such tempting, lustful offers.

4.
“Chaos is a name for any order that produces confusion in our minds.”
~ George Santayana ~

The next morning I awoke with anxiety already consuming me. And it wasn't just because of the news, it was everything; my public display of hate and humiliation, my gluttonous consumption of cigarettes and whiskey, my regrets.

By the time Chad pealed himself off of the spot where he had passed out (the kitchen floor), I had reached the lowest point. I was slothfully sitting Indian style in the middle of the living room, crying with an unlit cigarette dangling between my lips. Not just any cry, the kind you had when you were a child. Deep heavy sobs that causes your body to jerk back when you inhale and every now and again, you choke on your own spit. The kind that reduces your ability to talk down to a broken one - word - per - deep - breath type of speech.

Unsure of what to do with me, Chad stepped lightly, sat quietly next to me, pat me on my back and eventually gave me a confused "there, there, now."

I sucked up my tears and swallowed my sorrows away, enough to try and hold a conversation. No one wants an audience to their pity-party.

"I just feel heavy and regretful." I slurred through deep breaths as Chad removed the soggy cigarette that had set up camp between my lips. He reached for a new one from the pack and scrambled around for a lighter.

"You've just reached Dante's fifth circle, girl. You're under water."

"Drowning." and when I finally composed myself, I continued. "I can do the math. Shouldn't Karma have kept me from getting my ass handed to me by that heifer?"

"I think your attack negates due Karma."

Just as Chad found a lighter to light the cigarette with, we were interrupted by the sound of a car rolling up to the front of our house. Chad and I glanced at each other and simultaneously stood up to view the world outside of the living room window. That car looked familiar. It looked like the real confrontation was about to happen and an inevitable end of a relationship.

"I guess it's time for the talk, whether I'm ready for it or not" I stated to Chad with a sigh as I watched Tate's car door swing open.

"Hey," Chad called my attention back as he popped the cigarette in his mouth. He lit his and tossed me the pack and the lighter. "Don't take his shit, you don't need him. You're better than both of them, remember that."

Chad drew an imaginary heart in the air with his index fingers, framing my face in it.

I smiled a weak smile and nodded.

5.
“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
~ Anaïs Nin ~

Out on the front porch, I told it like it was. There was no buying of his bullshit, no acceptance of his apologies, no taking him back.

"I just want to explain. I don't think you realize how much you mean to me. It was a mistake and the situation is not like you think it is -" Tate tried to explain, words stumbling over his thoughts. I can only presume that he was hoping to talk his way out of this one.

"You hooked up with some other girl while I was wearing your promise ring. The situation is exactly like I think it is. That's all the details I need to know. There's nothing more to explain and there's nothing that you can say that will make this ok."

"I just want to, uhm -" There was an eternity of silence as I stood and watched him struggle to find some other words to rectify the situation. " I'm sorry."

"You are sorry. Sorry and stupid." I removed his ring and tossed it on the ground in front of him. "You'll be even more sorry when you realize that you just fucked up the best thing you'll ever have."

And with that I turned, lit my last cigarette from the pack and walked back into the house. Even though I didn't fully believe it myself, I didn't want him to leave thinking that he got the better of me. It was the only piece of pride I had left.