Summer Break

One Summer, when I'd managed to get a job, I worked in a tiny restaurant in the shopping mall. I was freshly fifteen, braces off, and waitressing tables on the hot days and warm nights. 

The way the restaurant was positioned, it faced outwards, towards the Main Street where there was a carwash. The carwash the boys at my school hung out at. 

I'd found that out a couple weeks after working at the restaurant, I'd managed to catch a glimpse of a shiny Nissan that Peter Drove. Him and his friends would hangout, blasting their music, and just talk for hours. 

If I was lucky, I'd leave early and be able to catch Peter before he drove off. He was always the first to drive off, right before the sun would set. 

Sometimes they'd even cross the street and eat here, where I'd be lucky enough to serve them. Only sometimes, though. Most times it was just me for lunch when they came, but sometimes other girls would beat me to it, infatuated with the looks of Peter and them. 

By now Peter had gotten his braces off a year and a half ago. With them off, it only made his popularity grow with his shiny, new, teeth. The girls grew even crazier because he'd smiled even more, twice as much as before. 

Without the braces, his boyish charm had vanished. Replaced with something far more mature, beyond our age. He looked older and much, much more handsome. He'd even managed to change his haircut. No longer did he have his shaggy side-part, but a longer middle part that he'd swept back and touched way too often. 

He'd seemed to care a lot more about his looks than before. He now stopped smiling at everyone and everything, just the pretty girls and, every once in a while, the not-so pretty girls. 

I think him getting his braces off and his charm fading, that was the start of my dislike of him. He wasn't exactly the same Peter from elementary school, but somehow I still found myself glancing out the window at him leaning on his car. 

I hated him. 

I hated him then and I hate him now. Especially after that shit show at the bonfire. My newfound friend, Amber, helped me with a change of clothes and insisted on doing my makeup. Except when she did my makeup, I could tell it was customized for her and her only. 

With her style of makeup on me, my lashes were caked in black, my lips were a little too glossed, and my cheeks looked the tiniest bit rosy. 

If you didn't look too long, I'd say I was pretty with it. But stare for too long and you'd see an absolute mess of makeup on my face. Even though Amber swore it looked 'Amazing'. 

Apparently Dylan had some old clothes in his car, but when He'd come back with them...I almost wanted to just drive back home. He'd brought a long sleeve fleece, oversized basketball shorts, tiny swim trunks, A sweatshirt with no sleeves, and sweatpants. 

And they all smelled like a musty boy had sweat in all of them. I later found out that these were also his old workout clothes. 

I'd chosen the swim trunks and the sweatshirt cut off since they were the most Summer friendly. The trunks hung low on my hips, so I flipped the band down twice, making them even shorter than before. The sweatshirt completely engulfed the shorts and hall of my thigh, which made me worry less about the length of the shorts. 

I looked at myself in the dingy bathroom mirror and sighed. I looked terrible, tired, and homeless. And it was only the second day of break. 

I guess I'd brought this upon myself. Even though the person I was supposed to be with right now is passed out, I'd willingly drove here this time. Even if Peter had semi-made me.