Why Don't I Just Ram My Fist In Your Face?

Kids In Love

Chapter Three: Kids in Love

March 21, 2011 – Tuesday

3:00 PM Sharp

We were gathered around a couch in Marianne’s garage. Hanging out as usual, what do you expect from a bunch of teenagers?

 I leaned on a newly upholstered red felt loveseat, with my legs tucked under me, my bare elbows propped up on my skinny jean clad legs and my fist supporting the weight of my chin that was leaning against it. I was currently tapping my fingers against my lap to the beat of the music that played softly in the background.

I sing along softly to the song and bob my head in all the right parts of the song. I lift my head a few times to stare at the bits and pieces that hung on the walls of the garage. I was wearing a fit black t-shirt that I had bought from Old Navy. I had put a red vest on top, and had worn a pair of dark wash skinnies.  My feet decked out in my new gold gladiator sandals. I had my left hair down to flow naturally and curled a few of the strands. I dolled it up with a red elastic headband and place it in between my forehead, hippie style.

Hannah sat next to me with her sprawled legs across the loveseat taking most of the space. She was staring at her nails again and barely listening to the song playing on the radio. She mumbled parts of the song from time to time. She had her hair in a lovely braid that was swept to the side, her nails covered in multiple colored nail polishes. She was wearing a pair of ripped washed-out jean shorts and a cute pink spaghetti top that had a printed picture of a rainbow colored peace sign on it. She wore a brown waiter-ish vest on top of it. Her feet wrapped up in a pair of rainbow striped ankle socks, her brown adiddas discarded on the garage floor.

Ricky sat across from me in a brown recliner. He was reading the sports column in the newspaper. Father figure in the future, anyone? Funny Amy, very funny. What’s with the sarcasm aye? Did someone not wake up on the right side of the bed? Oh, don’t be patronizing Amy. It doesn’t fit your whole character. Yeah, sure it doesn’t. Anyway if you don’t mind I have to finish what I was saying earlier, unlike you I have big job to do around here. How mature of you Amy! Congratulations you have matured from a maturity of a 15 year old to a maturity of a toddler. Bravo, I must hand it to you; I never thought you had it in you. What are you on about? I was just simply stating the truth. I would really appreciate it if you don’t butt in for now, because like I said I still have a job to do. No matter what ‘other’ people have to say.

Ricky had his legs crossed, and had one of his hands wrapped around a hot cup of cocoa. He doesn’t really do coffee. Something about the color, or was it the smell? Maybe it was the taste. I don’t really remember. He was probably the most mature among our friends. I think he wanted to be a lawyer in the future. Cool guy.

Okay who’s next? Ah, the last but not the least, Chris.

Chris had placed himself by my feet and leaned against the loveseat. He had his hair gelled up in a faux Mohawk and his ears adorned with black studs. He was wearing a black Bench t-shirt with a bunch of words written on it. He was wearing a pair of blue-grey jeans his feet adorned with a pair of green chucks. I leaned closer to his head and saw him busy texting someone with his cell phone; his ears jammed with his ear phones.

Huh, good for her. Ha-ha, okay I know I just assumed it was a she. I mean what are the chances?

Oh she’s jealous!

You again?

Yes, me ‘again’. So what’s got you fired up?

Nothing has got me ‘fired up! And…and...It’s none of your business!