The Vituperator (NaNoWriMo 2015)

seven \\ golf

IRISBURGH ITSELF isn't that beautiful a place. It's doesn't stand out from other big towns, but what I like about it is that it's quiet. No matter where you go, there's no noise of traffic, maybe just sometimes people, but in most areas I like to go there's never really anyone around.

There's this one place I like going to: a low-rising hill a good half hour walk from my house, but it's worth it. I don't go there to read, which is probably the only reason I ever willingly leave the house, I go there because it's an empty space. There's nobody there when I'm there, just me alone at the top of the hill, lying on my back and staring at the clouds. It's away from everything, so, so far away. The first thing I thought when I found the place was that someone could die a loud, agonizing death here and not a soul would know.

It makes the place sound sinister, but it is what it is — a hilltop of nowhere. A place I adore.

Until some sophomore working for the school's online newspaper listed it as one of the top location of an article called Most Beautiful Places in Town. Apparently the kid shared it on Facebook, and now I see my hill through a screen with the word WANDERLUST plastered on it like it's still 2011. (Damn you, evil sophomore.)

"Fore!" The golf ball goes soaring after a swift motion from Tae. He leans on his golf club, watching from behind his aviators as the ball flies off the hill. Bryson whistles, impressed. Nick plants his heels on the ground to deliver a shot of his own.

"You guys are going to hit someone," Sasha sing-songs.

"They'll be fine," Bryson says, squatting to set the ball on the tee.

"What, you scared of getting into a little trouble?" Nick grins at her.

Sasha scoffs and reclines to her elbows, her shoulder bumping mine. I lie my head on the picnic blanket and pull my knees up, blocking my view of the boys.

"No, I'm afraid for whoever's head you're gonna take off," Sasha says. I squint up at the sky, the sun isn't directly on us, but it's bright. I pull my round sunglasses from my pocket.

"Aw, who says one of us will end up killing somebody?" Tae teases.

"The inevitable," I throw into the conversation.

"Shit Olivia, you always have to make things dark?" Nick says, eyebrows crawling high enough to be fully seen from behind his shades.

"You guys brought up murder first, technically," Bryson says, setting a ball flying with his driver.

"Yikes, you two have been hanging out too much," Nick says jokingly, swaying his club back and forth at us, "you've stopped taking my side on things."

If there was something tense in Nick's voice, I was the only one who noticed.

"Please," Sasha diverts, "just don't go killing anyone. Having Death by Golf Ball on a tombstone is just pathetic, even if they're a stranger."

"Embarrassing," Tae mock-gasps, launching another into the air. "What a way to go."

I sit up, crossing my legs, and lean over to grab a handful from the bag of chips we've opened. My skin will hate me later, but after all these years I've stopped caring.

"Greedy," Sasha tuts.

"Can't help it," I shrug, shoving the entire handful into my mouth.

"God, check out the savage sitting next to me," Sasha snickers. I don't say anything back, mostly because I can't considering the chips threatening to fall out.

"Fancy glasses," Bryson smirks. My sunglasses are green, reflective, round, and big enough to make me look bug-eyed. I love my glasses.

"Those are glasses, for like, Powerpuff Girls," Tae laughs, pausing in the middle of his swing to eyeball.