The Girl

The First Song

The first song that played was one that I had never heard, but I saw Scott's eyes go wide at hearing it. I started reading in the notebook, to try to distract him from the music. It read:

Hey, guys, whether you're going at it alone or together, here it is. The first song. Holding on to You by Twenty One Pilots. You know, I felt like this is my song for so much of the past few weeks. I'm just barely holding on. You three are the only strings that keep me tied to this world. Thanks for trying, guys. You've succeeded. You might not think it, but you have. You've all kept me tethered for this long. And that's good. Now, you guys have one less person to fuss over. Worry about yourselves now. Or, worry about each other. We're the greasers, guys. I'm Johnny, Scott's Ponyboy, and Ron's Sodapop. And, Mark's Dally. My Dally. Trust me, this is how it should be. Don't kill yourself Mark. The same goes for Scott and Ron. Keep each other alive, please. I've caved, but that doesn't mean you guys should. Don't cry over me, and don't mourn. Celebrate what I was, and remember me. It might seem like the end of the world, but it's not. Just because this kid's story is over doesn't mean your stories are. Become friends, and get to know the others. It'll be for the best, trust me. Keep going, if for nothing or no one else but me. Keep going in my memory. Okay?

I looked up, and saw Ron and Scott still reading. They were beginning to cry, I could tell. I thought that after the funeral I wouldn't cry, they seemed to say. But here we are, three of her best friends, crying. Crying because of the sheer power of her words. The dead girl's words. The song ended just as I finished, so I paused the playlist, waiting for them to be done. Scott's head shot up at the sudden silence, and his eyes were wet and his nose red. He started at me for a moment, as if seeing someone else, other than me. "You look like her," he whispered. "I do?" I replied. He nodded.
"Not as much as Ron, but yeah, you look kinda like her. You act like her too," he said. "You've got the same kind of look in your eyes. The look of secrets, and dangerous thoughts in your mind. And that daydreaming look, like you're trying to figure out the secrets of the universe, or, at the very least, why you are the way you are." He stopped. "Oh. Sorry. She taught me how to read people, and explained her expressions." I shrugged it off. "That's alright. She did the same thing to me. No worries, Scott." Ron had looked up, and his eyes widened when he looked between Scott and myself. "You're right, Scottie. He does have that same look. Wow. That's kinda scary, but also pretty cool. Before we go on, tell us a bit about yourself, Dally. How did you meet her?" he said, using the nickname Mourning Star so affectionately named me. "Okay," I replied.
"I met her last year, in gym class. We both had it first period. She was so smart, and I liked that. She'd always hang out with me, but only in that class. When I figured out that I was bisexual, she was there for me. She was the first of my friends I told. And she didn't care. She came out to me that she was a demisexual, and genderfluid, during the same conversation. It made me feel better, you know? She was always there for me, and I loved that about her. I loved her, actually. She was cute, especially when she got annoyed at my stupidity. And she'd always defend me. No matter what.
"After it came out to everyone that I was bi, and my mom was too, she defended me. She became hated by about half the grade, who were homophobes, but she didn't care. She just wanted her friends to be happy. One day, we were in town, just walking down the sidewalk, and we got jumped. It was some football players, and she fought like hell to get away. She almost got raped, until a guy came down the alleyway and stopped them. The entire time, I was on my knees, with a knife to my throat, watching the entire thing. That's when she became suicidal," I choked up, and couldn't speak anymore.
Scott and Ron's eyes were wide, showing that they had never heard about this. They looked at me, with pity in their eyes. And I started crying. I cried just as hard as I did the day of the funeral. I didn't think I would ever cry that much outside of a funeral, but here I am. Crying in front of two near-strangers. But hey, c'est la vie, eh? We talked for a bit, then I started the second song.

Hey everybody! Who knows what Mark said when he said "c'est la vie?" Whoever guesses correctly first gets a digital cookie! - TLR