Skinny Hips // Ashton Irwin

one // pathetic

The day was warmer than usual, and groups of teens in short shorts and crop tops hung out outside the youth center, ready to take part in whatever they did in there. May it be yoga, basketball, or a depressing mental health group to talk about your tendencies to want to hang.

I stood in the parking lot, as far away from the kids as possible, an unlit cigarette dangling from my lips as I dug through my pockets to search for a lighter. Upon realizing I didn't have one, I groaned out loud, ripping the fag from my mouth and staring at the sky. The sun blazed down, and I wondered if I could light the fag just from the heat of the air.

Once I realized my plan was bogus, I began to head towards the center, feeling mopey from not being able to have my morning fag. I held the object between my pointer and middle finger as I strolled, staring straight ahead.

"Do you need a lighter?"

A tiny voice tore me from my thoughts and I turned to see none other then Annie Cathaway sat on a ledge between two tight cars, hiding from the rest of the world. I smirked, strolling towards her and bending down to her height, watching as she let her own cigarette hang between her lips as she reached into the hem of her pants and pulled out a white bic.

"You smoke?" I said, my now lit fag messing up my speech as it sat comfortably between my lips. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling of the nicotine burning my throat, then letting go, making sure to blow my smoke away from Annie.

She did the same as me, watching me closely as she inhaled, then exhaled, then shook her head. "No."

I laughed a little before standing from my crouched position, turning to walk away. Before I could walk behind the Skoda, I turned to her once more and smiled. "Dinner tonight, maybe?"

I didn't need to stay long to know she was going to shake her head and frown. Once she did just that, I sighed, deciding not to linger on the moment before finally walking away, sending one more thought over my shoulder. "Run," I shouted behind me, "group started three minutes ago."

Not long after I had entered the room and took my seat next to Tina, Annie came stumbling in too, popping a piece of gum in her mouth as she took her seat next to Amelia.

For the next forty-five minutes, I tuned out the words all the kids spoke, nodding along to every, "ye know?" and "you understand, right?" even though I had no idea what was going on. It was only during the last fifteen minutes my mind decided to turn on, and my eyes were locked on Tina as she spoke.

"Annie," is what she started with, suddenly getting my attention, "I was told it was your one year anniversary, right?" 

Tina made it sound like it was a good thing. Like, congratulations on being a depressing little fuck for one whole year! It only gets worse from here!

Annie nodded, bouncing her leg up and down, waiting for Tina to continue in suspense.

"Like we talked about, right?" she asked, whispering across the room as if everyone else couldn't hear her.

Slowly, and with her eyes still stuck to the blue carpeted and stained floor, Annie stood up. It was then that I, and everyone else in the room, finally realized why Annie attended the group. For the first time since I started working here--and probably for the first time since she started coming here--Annie wasn't wearing a pair of baggy sweat pants; she was wearing leggings. The kind of leggings that hugged each and every part of your leg, as if you weren't wearing pants at all.

It was as if her legs were like sticks; I had never seen someone so skinny. She stood with her feet pressed together, looking as if you could squeeze a car through the gap in her thighs. Her knee bones stuck out through the fabric; everything was on show.