Chapter 6. Kim.
The lines between reality and dream blur.
You are my one condolence in this crowd of dancing, grinding teenagers.
I look at you, and I am almost sure you'll look back at me with the same expression of despair.
But your eyes aren't on me.
They are on the couple in the middle of the floor, dancing, laughing, feeling each other up, sneaking drunk kisses.
I am so close to expressing my bewilderment when I notice familiar brown hair.
Your boyfriend.
You flee.
There's no other way to say it. You run, run, faster than you'll ever do for PE out of the room.
No one sees you go.
Except for me.
And I know I should run after you, but the couple on the floor has me transfixed.
They are laughing.
They look happy.
Maybe it's the one beer they forced down my throat.
It's your crush.
I can't breathe.
Everything is much too overwhelming, too close too close too close can't breath suffocating--
I choke.
The couple looks happy.
Your boyfriend and the nerd... Looks happy.
Their faces are glowing under the lights, fingers entwined, touching, grasping, like they can't get enough.
And then, sickeningly, I realise--
Your boyfriend doesn't look drunk enough to not have any coherent thought.
The nerd looks alive.
She doesn't look drunk.
Maybe they meant to blame it on the alcohol.
Maybe this was more than a one-time thing.
Maybe--
I feel sick.
Maybe they've been fooling you all along.
YOU ARE READING
White lies.
Teen FictionWe are a walking stereotype. You are the mean, whiny queen bee, I am your ever loyal sidekick, and we are followed by a bunch of cheerleaders everywhere we go. We giggle and we flip our hair and we check our never chipped nails and we wonder who wi...
