Blind (EXCERPT)

Excerpt- A Christmas Party

Inside the house it's loud and crowded, which is expected. They play a lot of street punk shit, songs that are pushing it at a minute and a half, along with some time tested shit from the late seventies and the room is a swirling circle of smoke, beer, and sweat.

I see people I know but I keep my head low and try to not make any eye contact, try to act like I don't see them so we don't have to talk, but Lori on the other hand...

The girl loves to socialize. I never knew Lori knew so many other girls. I thought she just hung around Tanya most of the time, but as she tugs me around to greet skingirl after psychobilly chick after rude girl, I realize this perception of her is all wrong. She's quite the social butterfly.

Eventually, we find ourselves in the far corner of the backyard, sitting with about six other people underneath a canopy of low trees. We're surrounded around Joslyn, who sits on the hammock in between two other girls.

Joslyn thinks she's hot shit.

A black girl straight out of high school with a holier than thou attitude, she's a paper cutout of the epitome of a punk rock girl. She's got a sour face made up with pouty pink lips and dark violet eyes, topped with choppy pieces of short, burgundy hair. Slim and flat chested, with mocha skin, she wears a tiny white baby doll with a screen printed skull with a bow on it's head, and no bra. Me and everyone else can see her tits straight through her shirt, nipples that look like Hershey's kisses, and she doesn't care.

Her black miniskirt is so short that it barely covers her ass, and it's riding up like hell sitting there on the hammock, with her brown legs covered in ragged black stockings riddled with holes. All of this leads down to clunky, eighteen eyelet combat boots.

Apparently Joslyn does some modeling, and she's passing around some recent photos she's taken. They're mostly black and whites of her looking angst ridden and suicidal, standing on train tracks or bridges or in back alleys in more ripped up clothing and dark makeup, her head lowered and her eyes narrowed at the ground. There are a few of her half naked, her body slithering across a white floor with blood covered hands or bound wrists, weird shit like that. I peer over Lori's shoulder at them, never taking them out of her hands to look at them because they annoy the hell out of me and I don't want to show that much interest.

I catch Joslyn staring at me as I look at one of the pictures so I stop looking and ignore her, swigging my beer as aloofly as possible.

Everyone's looking at this chick so appreciatively, like she's done something to change the world. Patched up the hole in the ozone, saved the rainforest, freed Tibet. She's a legend, she's one of a kind, she's special.

I feel my mind going numb.

"You're like ten times prettier than this chick." I whisper to Lori, who cranes her head around and smiles shyly.

That's my girl, self conscious as hell, doesn't know for one second that she's it.

Meanwhile, Joslyn is telling us about how the photographer agreed to take her pictures for free because she had such a nice face, otherwise she would've never been able to afford them.

Wow, she's poor like the rest of us. That's really inspirational.

I can't help but wonder what she did for the photographer. Nothing's free.

I don't know why I'm being such a dick about this girl, maybe it's uncalled for, unjustified, but I decide to get away anyways, to not subject myself to anymore of this.

"I'm gonna go have a smoke." I tell Lori.

I'm afraid to light up back here, for fear that all these trees and dead leaves will burst into flames at the slightest touch of a dropped ash.