Adolescent Mixture

An Adolescent Mixture

She looked like spilt nail varnish. Fluorescent green hair and tacky bright coloured jewelry, she was quite a sight. Although her weird fashion, there was something very alluring about her, sort of like a bad smell you secretly like. She stood in the middle of the room, talking to someone, while techno music blasted and everyone was having a good time. I watched her for a few seconds, watching her mouth move without hearing the words, noticing the odd crinkles in her face as she talked. We were all roughly 15... except me; I was 14 as I was born in July. July the 31st 1999, not that it matters. Anyway, she finished talking to that person and was walking in my direction, I lifted my arm and gently bumped her arm, "hey" I said, loud enough for her to hear. I didn't hear her response but it was an evident "hey" back by the movement of her mouth. The mouth, which seemed to be a little bit too big for her face, and the face that was just a little bit too small for her body. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't unattractive... quite the opposite, but she was attractive in the oddest possible manner. A bit like grapes and cheese, or humus and crisps, they shouldn't go well together, but they do. We said "hey" at 10pm and by 11pm we were in the upstairs toilets sucking face like hungry goldfish. Funny now that I look back, I was so horny back then, this little 14-year-old cunt with frizzy blond hair up to his shoulders, latching on to a girl who clearly conformed to some sort of rebellious subculture. Both enjoying the innards of each other's faces for about 5 minutes then walking out feeling like fucking James Dean. Then never talking again, apart from the occasional smile as we cross paths... cause you know, we're that cool. Smooch a girl and never talk, that's how we roll. Anyway, the morning after the party I woke at 10am and got some water in my boxers, pretending to have a hang over when my mum asks me how the other night was. To be fair, I should have had a hang over cause say what you like but us 14-year-old pricks drink a lot. I mean, I must have had about 4 ciders and at least 6 swigs of some poor bastard's stolen "Smirnoff" but my young adolescent body hasn't developed the capability's to experience such horrors, and so, I simulated it with my imagination and the template of what movies provide. Some hot shot running his fingers through his wavy, messy hair in only a robe of something, then a hot chick runs out his house holding her pair of high heels in her hand. That's what I was picturing anyway as I walked back to my room balancing the glass of water in one hand and running the other though my hair, which smelled of cigarettes suppressed by 10 seconds of Lynx. My coolest clothes scattered across my room and my computer patiently waiting for me to log into Facebook to see what horrendous pictures I was tagged in.

10 notifications, that's not good. But I was eager to find out what each one was non the less, I was more eager to read the 3 messages as well, probably Josh and Samar seeing if I "got" with anyone, which I did... I most certainly did. The notifications were surrounding a few pictures of me, one of them was of me with a cigarette between my skinny little fingers so I swiftly untagged myself, as I have family on Facebook, the other I didn't look too bad in so I gave it an approving "like" and the other was of me and that girl, coming out of the toilet. Her name was Sam by the way, I think that's how we initially got along, I said "Sam" was a boys name and she pushed me playfully... establishing physical contact. Anyway, the messages I was right about. Except the last one, the third one. It was from "Sam (coolgirl) Hopkins" I didn't actually know we were friends, but to be fair I do just click accept if the request is a girl. Her profile picture was an angled close-up of her hideously colour contrasted face. Saturation and editing was clearly not her strong suit, unless it was some sort of political statement, we'll never know I guess. Unless we ask her. Anyway, her message read "Hey guyyy LOL you enjoy yourself last night? >.<" that was another thing, my names Guy, and that's how we bonded quicker because straight after I said Sam was a boys name, she comes back with "Guy is a word , not a name" that made it easy for us to talk. That's another thing, you never meet anyone you can actually just talk too, you always need something to lubricate the small talk so you can cut to the chase quicker, kissing. Cause back in those days, that's all parties really were. A hunting ground for "Get With" points, then on Monday we would all tally up the scores. If you got with a hot popular chick, that'd be 3 "Get With" points right there, if you bagged a fat chick you entered minus points, which was really fucking mean if you ask me, but hey, we were savages back then. Skinny little savages, who knew Pythagoras Theorem. I guess that meant if you had two sets of Get With points, and wanted to figure out the last, we were your guys. Well not us, we were horrible at Math's, but generally speaking, some of us knew Pythagoras. Anyway, me and Sam talked on Facebook for awhile and I was a little more comfortable because although she was attractive in person, she was more conventionally attractive on Facebook, if you see bad quality mirror selfies and close ups of her eye conventionally attractive. We talked about many things on Facebook actually, on Facebook its a lot more easier. You can think about what your going to say and add facial expressions you could never pull off in real life. You can attach a personality to the way you write which is very difficult to interpret into real life, like the cute person persona, writing with loads of "xD" and ":3" and making the last letter of every sentence repeat its self a dozen times like thissssss. I know that's not a dozen but you get me. Anyway, what I'm saying is it was easier to talk to Sam on Facebook because you can be someone your not, or you can be yourself but think about what your saying clearly before you say it. But that's the thing I liked about Sam, she would put on this 'cute' persona but in person she was really like that, I can't explain it but she was. She acted exactly like she typed on Facebook, emoji's and all. I guess that's why I talked to her loads; I guess I admired her honesty. But I guess I also enjoyed flirting with her. Flirting when your 14 isn't much, its exactly the same as normal talking except with a 'winky' face after each sentence. Pretty funny if you ask me... but then again its also pretty pathetic. Anyway, we talk and flirt and what not, she asks me very sexual questions, like have I "ever fucked a girl?" hell no, I'm 14! But I say "yes, twice"

She asks me "are you telling the truth", no I'm not.

"Yes, I am"

She asks me "what positions" have I had... I don't know the names of these "positions'

"Doggy" is one I remember.

Looking back I don't know why I lied, I mean "No I have not had sex yet" would have been a perfectly reasonable answer for a boy of my age, but a part of me wanted to impress her, to show her that I'm more rebellious than her God damn green extensions and stretched ear lobe.

Sam said she had sex as well, although I don't think she was lying.

She seemed ashamed of it, but painted over that shame with confidence. I don't know how I picked out all these subtle emotions from a God damn Facebook message, but I guess that's what us Wifi generation kids do best... read between the lines. Anyway, she said she was free to meet up on Tuesday because it was inset day for all schools and I said I could make it.

On Tuesday, I waited at the station where we arranged to meet at. Standing there in my hoodie and rucksack, I'm not too sure why I brought my rucksack, it had a goddamn spare set of clothes and a packet of Starburst stuffed inside, ridicules. In my wallet I had 10 pounds which I was willing to spend on what kids called a "Benz" which is essentially marijuana that's worth £10, but to us that's all we required to burn our little eyes red and fly into the clouds. I was also wearing my mums perfume, which I then realized made me smell like Topshop and other clothing shops. Anyway, there I was. 5'4 with a rucksack double my size, ear phones stuffed in my thoroughly cleansed ears and waiting for about 10 minutes for a girl I barely knew... for Gods sake I knew more about how she tasted than how she looked.

Cigarettes and Extra mint gum if you're wondering.

While I waited, I regressed into flicking my Instagram newsfeed down a couple weeks, just to see people I barely knew eat fucking avocado and show their bum off. It was about 5 weeks down the Instagram newsfeed when I thought I'd peer out from my iPhone and onto the bustling city of London, I scanned the busy environment and my eye caught sight of what appeared to be my date. She was taller that me by two inches and was wearing significantly revealing clothes for a 15 year old girl. She looked vulnerable and timid walking down the pavement towards me, she wore green fishnet tights and a very short skirt, so much so that if she dropped something she couldn't just pick it up. She also wore a tight purple crop top that only revealed a slit of her stomach. Her clothing choice was clearly to bring light to her green hair and as she came closer I noticed again, her oddly features, her almost too big head and her mouth that was just shy of being too wide. It was as if her face was a D grade but the examiner was kind enough to bump her up to a C. Shit is that offensive? No its not, everyone rates and grades looks. Anyway, there she was, approaching... as she arrived in to speaking distance she gave me a very cute but firm "Hey, you have a lighter?" as she pulled a cigarette out between the crevices of her empty bra. "I don't, sorry" I felt as if I'd failed the first test, is this is? Will I not get to be her boyfriend now? She acted like she expected my response and without notice or hesitation she waltzed up to a middle aged mum, who had a phone between her neck and shoulder, a pram in one hand and a cigarette between the fingers of the other. Sam said almost routinely "Do you have a lighter please". The mother, who was talking on the phone, blinked affirming that she did in fact have one, and just like Sam reached into the pockets of her rather full bra. Sam used the lighter and walked back to me in a robotic fashion, almost as if she wanted to get this over and done with. We walked down the main street and I asked if she was having a good time, she said she was.

Now looking back I could tell she was a nut case, as was everyone back then, but at the time I thought she was the bees knees, I really did. The way she didn't care and did stuff without hesitation was so goddamn brave, I now know she was just a scared little girl hiding her insecurities but damn at the time she was so cool. She asked me if I had watched any Japanese cartoons, I didn't, I honestly thought Anime was lame. Except maybe Yu-Gi-Oh and Pokemon, because those were the only ones I'd watched, but those two were also the ones I told her about. I didn't say how I made fun out of my friend Samar for watching the, but instead told her about how I really prefer Pokemon to the other Anime's. She didn't seem impressed, but she took the bait. Almost as if she knew I was lying, but was too tired to do anything about it... a bit like when a baby drops some pasta on the floor and the mum just tuts and leaves it. She told me the names of all these Anime's I "have to watch" and how I'm "such a beginner"