My stiff Mickey Mouse slippers, aged but freshly unpackaged, moved with exceptional speed as I crossed the gravel parking lot. Pearl's gift for me from the exchange, given just an hour before, provided little protection from the jagged rocks underfoot. Especially the second time.

"Ow. Ow. Ow..." I whispered breathily to myself.

Falling into the driver's seat of the rental car, sober and annoyed to have made it all of the way to the local cafe only to leave with no coffee, I checked the sole of my right shoe and it was shredded, once pin-pricked holes now stretching and tearing.

Curse you, Nate.

It looked like a tiger had ripped its prey from the fabric surface, dense stuffing erupted from the  center. 

I'm an idiot!

Clicking my seatbelt with a groan, I was mentally preparing myself to go to the convenience store. I went over my list: sewing needles, thread, coffee for myself and Pearl.

It was time to figure it out with her; I missed my best friend.

The bouncy rap of knuckle on the car window made me jump and my eyes snapped to the face six inches from the glass, smiling. I visibly cringed, but eventually rolled the window down for Nate's apparent date.

"Hey there! I'm Louise." She chirped, waving a loose hand.

Her nail polish is chipped.

I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes.

"What's up?" Omitting my name was intentional. She didn't need to know who I was and quite frankly, I preferred it when she was the nameless other woman.

My eyes raked up and down her slightly-older but undeniably shapely body as I spoke, ripping her to shreds like my slipper. It was mean and I knew it was mean but it was all I could do not to cry.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm his aunt." Louise had backed away from the car window and now stood back a ways with her hands on the shelf of her hips, gripping angrily with dainty fingers.

Her pretty face wore a grimace.

Well, I suck.

"Oh, uh... I'm sorry. I-I'm June," I peeped, embarrassed by my previous tone and it was getting harder not to be the one to break eye-contact. She was unwavering.

"Forgiven. Just giving info." She leaned slightly at the waist to make it easier for me, but I had to look up to see her from my car seat. The sun forced a squint on my eyes.

"Thank you, but um... Nothing's going to happen there," I said and Louise laughed. My eye contact broke. Nervous.

"Whatever you gotta tell yourself, honey. I gotta get back before Nate notices that I'm not in the bathroom, but if you ever need a cut or a color while you're in the area, I'm your girl! Nobody likes flat, lifeless hair." She passed me a purple cheetah-print business card and I accepted it reluctantly.

I deserved that.

With contact info exchanged and an appointment scheduled for 'not this upcoming Tuesday but the next one', we parted ways as unlikely friends. Or at least, I was too intimidated by her to entertain any possible reservations. Plus she was right: my hair was flat and lifeless.

I fluffed it with my hands subconsciously as I drove to the convenience store, where the most eventful thing that happened was a bald cop sneezing into his coffee cup.

He threw it away after.

By the time I finished hand-stitching my slipper in the parking lot, Pearl's iced coffee was lukewarm and mine was gone, chugged into my jittering body. I was a cracked glow stick. Shaken.

My botched masterpiece, horrific in quality but functional enough to be a source of pride for someone who had never sewn before such as myself, would have to be exclusively worn around the house in the future to protect the faulty stitching from the elements, and I'd need to remember to tape down the loose threads. And I'd need to keep my feet low to the ground so she couldn't see the tufts of stuffing that I'd sewn into the stitching. And I could only wear them in the dark since they were noticeably dirty and too fragile to wash.

I was getting the feeling that Pearl was going to find out.

Can one fucking thing go my way for once?

That parking lot and I were inseparable for the next couple of hours with me scream-crying Fleetwood Mac (mostly Dreams on repeat) and the asphalt listening, steaming with oven-baked intensity. Waves of heat.

At least it can't get much worse.

When I walked back in through the front door of 1255 Bud Ln after leaving for a 'quick coffee run' three hours ago, I was clutching a strangled Mickey slipper and on the brink of tears again, calling out for my best friend through a cracked and trembling voice.

I'd thrown away Pearl's spoiled coffee on my way up. The great big mouth of an army green trash can accepted the offering gratefully, burping as its lid rattled shut.

"I'm home," I called out limply and in Perry's room, I heard a crash. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, suspicious of the deafening silence that had followed.

"Perry? You okay?" I crept forward, unnerved. There was a prolonged shuffle and the thunder of running feet.

"Yeah! Just, uh... Showing Pearl my uh...We'll-" Perry stuttered. 

"We'll be out in a second!" She shouted firmly.

I can't believe Dean was right...

My body reeled in response to the betrayal, the air sucked violently from my collapsing lungs and my legs moved with shaky unease as I hurried into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. After chucking both slippers out the open bedroom window, I collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the feathery mattress with a sigh before my left hand brushed over something crusty.

Pearl hadn't washed the sheets yet.

Briefly held sobs shook through my body as I ran from the room, too scared to look at whatever dried bodily fluid I just touched. My skin crawled and something snapped behind my eyes.

"June! What's going on?" Pearl called out after me as I slammed the bathroom door behind me. With a cry, I tore all of my clothes off with reckless abandon, sending them flying through the hospital-like bathroom: white walls and white floors. My padded bra landed in the sink.

"What's wrong? P-Please talk to me!" She pleaded desperately as she pounded on the other side of the door. Feigning innocence.

"How long have you been fucking him?" I shouted with a venomous emphasis on 'him.' I was clenching my white-knuckled fists and stomping my foot, the slap of skin on tile echoing around my spinning head.

"I-I'm not!" Pearl stuttered defensively.

"Bullshit!" I yelled, my voice cracking into a brief scream at the end of the word.

"June, you know that I was with Johnny last night and the night before! Perry and I just kissed... That's all. I'm sorry. Just let me explain. Please, June."

Liar!

I listened silently as Pearl begged, but my scream-rattled heart had grown cold. Tears continued to fall from my blank expression. My pale arms crossed over my paler breasts, nipples erect and milky skin covered in a dense netting of goosebumps.

People who 'just kiss' don't have to fumble around for their clothes after.

"When Dean goes back to River Crest, you're going with him," I said bluntly before walking away from the door and gently resting my fingers onto the cool surface of the shower's knob, which controlled the water's flow and temperature. Fingernail tapped rhythmically on metal.

I froze, impatiently waiting for Pearl to speak again. The corners of my lips twitched upwards when her panicked voice cut through the still, morgue-like air.

"June... You can't mean that... June, can you please come out and-"

The rush of warm water, bubbling and spitting over the drain, cut off the stranger.

Forty-five minutes of silence-on-my-end later, Pearl had given up her begging and crying with her forked tongue. Her tone shifted dramatically.

"You're no better than your fucking mother," she spat at me as she gave up, finally leaving me and my pillowy, sore face alone.

In a scalding hot bath, freshly topped off with stinging water, I'd all but stopped crying and my elbows were propped on the ceramic edge of the tub, freshly dried hands dangling out and texting, wrinkled thumbs moving rapidly. I sent one message a-piece to first Dean and then Sam.

To: Dean <3

I'll explain later, but can you take Pearl with you to River Crest when you leave? Lmk asap, I love you.

To: Sam

This may be a massive overstep but any chance I can crash at your place tonight? Drama at the rental, I fear. Could use a friend.

They both responded almost immediately and I smiled sadly.

3:12 PM

Dean:

Of course! I love you, too. Fill me in when you can, okay?

3:14 PM

Sam:

Sleepover? Hell yes. I'll get snacks. Do you want me to pick you up?

Climbing out of the still water of the tub, my red skin raw and peeling from the prolonged exposure to liquid heat, it felt like a rebirth. Trauma with purpose.

I hadn't spent much time yet thinking about what the future held for Pearl and I, but I knew that I needed some space. Her unfortunate taste in a sexual partner was disappointing given the way that she knew that he'd treated me throughout the years, but what really hurt was the lying.

How long has she been lying to me?

And her comment about my mom...

She stood on the back porch smoking a cigarette as I packed a small bag and crawled into the passenger seat of Sam's boat of a car, vape smoke spilling from an open window. I was wearing my gift from the driver: an oversized screen-printed wolf hoodie, which Sam had insisted that she laundered multiple times at home and the lavender scent corroborated her story. It was made of an acid-washed black fabric and surprisingly, I loved it. 

With a reassuring smile, she passed me the AUX.