“Did you just call me screw boy? Really?” Zay questioned looking at the irritating girl like she’d grown a second head. “Don’t talk down to me like I don’t know what it’s like to have money. I do. These sneakers I’m wearing cost bank bitch, the fuck you think this is?” Zay pointed out clearly offended that she would just assume he’d never bought anything expensive because he was sympathizing with people who had to work for a living. Because he knew what it was like to work for a living. That didn’t make him poor. What kind of fucked up mentality she had to have to draw that conclusion, Zay didn’t know or want to understand for that matter it was disgusting. “Like I said that you clearly ignored, I get you’re having a meltdown and I would sympathize with that if you weren’t being a cunt to and about people for somethin’ that you don’t even know for sure was their fault! There’s no reason for this rant whatsoever. There were a million ways you could’ve handled this. You could’ve just asked for help getting the stain out –with a diluted solution of a dishwashing liquid poured and gently worked onto the stain, FYI.– but no you decided to fly off the handle like a fucking child and throw a fit which is not cute and by the way, my “little maid pals” as you put it are decent hard working people who shouldn’t have to deal with your white privilege uppity white girl bullshit. You betta check yourself and learn some damn common decency. You are not better than anyone, just an ugly little girl with an ugly attitude who needs to grow the fuck up. Know that. Hay’s algomal con usted chica blanca.”
She didn’t care if it was petty, she got a lot of pleasure out of staring between his eyes as if she could somehow materialise a fat zit out of nowhere. Sure, she still felt as though she wanted to crawl into a ball, but she wasn’t about to let that play on her face. Truth was, Aleia was good at bitch fights, girl’s were easy. They were predictable, fat comment, slut comment, cheap comment, back stab, back stab, over. But boys? She was used to nothing but manners, when one behaved outside of her comfort zone, she foolishly resorted to the eighteen year old she indeed was. “ They cost bank? Nice. So if they were clean when you left home, clean when you put them out in your room and you came back to find grease, you wouldn’t be pissy. Honestly, I’m not even mad. What a virtuous gift. ” She spat her words like the venomous little creature she was. Aleia wasn’t delusional enough to be in denial about her status as spoiled, she most certainly was. But that didn’t find it unreasonable to expect an iota of professionalism. “ Who would I ask for help getting out the stain, screw boy? You think any Zeta girl is familiar with scrubbing clothes? ” She snapped, more irritated by their lack of skills than his comment, which was still infuriating, but not half as much as not knowing how to clean her own damn clothes. As he continued to rant, she was forced to stifle her bitter little giggle before quirking a brow at him. “ Wait, wait. White privilege? So the people that move my bags have to be people of colour right? That’s the implication? ” She wanted to laugh. “ Otherwise you would have said classist, right? The whole white girl angle, kind of implies you think the help are bound to be anything but white. Wow, Kelly Osborne much. ” Folding her arms she shrugged her shoulders, the smile dropping as she shook her head. “ I’m a lot of things, hell, I’ll even take cunt. But I’m not ugly or that little. ” As he spoke spanish to her, she rolled her eyes, obviously she didn’t understand a word of it. “ Cute, we get it. You’re fluent in something other than English and Asshole. Brava. ”
