Grantham Street Gimmick

Atlanta Heartthrob

"Hey girl, you got kik?"

The husky masculine voice spoke a bit over confidently from a small distance on the other side of my locker door. Honestly my first impulse was to laugh, but I do in fact have a little self-control; The first thing that came out of me in response was a snicker, while ducking my head down so that it looked as though I was sneezing instead. Then, tilting my head back past the edge of my locker door to get a look of the guy, I saw him.

I think it's great that from the moment I met Elliot, I knew he could be anything but a charmer. Looking at where we are now; it's somehow reassuring to know that it's still absolutely true.

I had heard among the gossip of many junior girls this morning that this boy was to be found roaming the halls as a clueless transfer from Atlanta today. The only bit of a name I could recollect from the talk of first period was Mirk and honestly-

-I smiled to assure him that I was only kidding, though perhaps it was over insolently that I remarked, "Honey, you're from that big city Atlanta. You should know how to pick up a girl."

At this, the chestnut haired boy lost the unconvincing smirk of coquetry and although he didn't look hurt, I knew the kid was embarrassed. His eyes immediately parted from mine and I glanced down thinking of what I could say next that wasn't going to make me seem like even more of a bitch. Closing my locker, I turned to face him. Take two.

"You're new here. From Atlanta, no? That's a bit far from here." I said, deluding the edge from my voice so that my tone was hopefully inviting rather than repulsive. I guess it did the trick, because he was quick to respond with, "Yeah."

"You're name?" I asked, now directing my eyes back to his.

"Elliot."

Well then where in the fuck did I get Mirk from? "How about your last name?" I persisted, causing him to turn back towards me with an expression I couldn't read.

"Um, it's Mercer. Why?" He asked, going from shy and attracted to me to uncomfortable and aloof. Shit, now I had to explain.

"Well, you see," I say, diving into the story of the news brought to me by the chatty chicks of first period. Explaining myself surely would have made me feel less weird if I could've only know what he thought of after I told him the situation, especially since he's now knowledgeable of the fact that the name I gave him all morning was Mirk. As I guided him to the next class, which we unironically shared, I didn't ask anything else. I only wondered about what lie beyond the face of the new boy; not saying I could reciprocate his attraction toward me, but I had been intrigued.

"Ro, why the hell did you shut him down like that?" Sebastian spat at me after the city boy was finally out of sight.

"Why do you always gotta ask me that? If I don't feel attracted to Elliot or anyone else who asks me out, then why should I say yes?" I snapped defensively. Sebastian seemed more than slightly shocked and maybe even a little hurt by the bitterness in my voice. I almost actually apologized, but the seconds in which he seemed to shake it off were posthaste.

"Sorry. Guilting you wasn't my intent, but uh, it just seemed like you wouldn't even give him a chance." His apology came from the top of his head, though still sincere. At least until he mentally sighted the issue once more, and began to get shitty with me again. "You've got some nerve; hissing at me like I'm just your nagging Mom. You know, you've had guys practically competing to get with you since Freshman year but you so quickly dismiss them, never giving even one of them a chance.

"You know what my problem is, Rose?"

Oh dear lord. Sebastian Fountain was and still probably is the most temperamental cock jockey in Athens, Georgia. That's no hyperbole, it's legitimately fact. The temperamental part (he probably wouldn't even deny it himself) and the part about him being a total cock jockey. He's my best friend and favorite gay but chill would be no adequate adjective when describing the ten-feet-tall string bean.

"-Is that it's so frustrating when you do that because it's like- you don't even care! I've been out for four fucking years now and Lord knows what I'd give to have a boyfriend finally. You say you're not attracted to these guys and that it's not fair to lead 'em on but just- come on, Rose!. That's bullshit, everyone feels attraction and lust, but you're just so above boys aren't you? Where's your passion, huh?"

Oh boy.

"Look, the guy was certainly photogenic that's for sure" I asserted. "Probably a six thousand dollar smile and whitening strips along with a profound Grecian glow, but you of all people who are so into passion and fondness ought to know that none of that means shit to me if he doesn't give me butterflies."

Sebastian silenced and I didn't bother to oppose it with any other sound as we walked up my driveway. I felt the tension ease, and then added jokingly, "Besides, he may be an Atlanta heartthrob, but man, he was something pathetic at flirting."

Stepping inside the welcome room of my home and taking pleasure in the chuckle of String-bean-Seb, my heart, not only, but the muscles in my face as well throbbed to the rhythm of our laughs as we joked the rest of the afternoon.