Fifteen | ✓

ten

"Leave me alone!"

"Sketch come on."

"I don't want to see you today, Christopher."

"But why?"

Catherine stared at herself in the mirror of the foyer of her home; three pimples had appeared on her forehead somehow during the course of the night, and no amount of concealer in the world seemed adequate to cover them up properly. Also, her hair was a tangled mess. Christopher could not see her like this; she was ugly. "I at least thought I had a right to my own opinions."

She heard his deep chuckle from the other side of the door; he probably remembered when he'd said those exact words all those weeks back in June. "I want a real answer."

She sighed. "You don't understand." Her voice sounded weak and desperate, everything she strived not to be.

"Then make me."

Hesitantly, she turned the bolts of the front door (not because she wanted to but was sure that will all the ruckus Fen would soon be swooping down the staircase in all his glorious nosiness) and was greeted by the sight of a tiny red dot on Christopher's chin.

"You have one too?"

He crumpled his face in confusion, uncertain to where all this was going with. "What?"

She pointed at his chin. "A zit."

"Well it is a common characteristic among adolescents," he said matter-of-factly, before backtracking. "Wait, 'too'? You have a pimple? Is that why you're ashamed?"

"I don't have a pimple; I have pimples." With a sullen expression she pulled her hair aside and gestured towards the demonic trio that sought her imminent destruction.

He chuckled. "They're just three, Sketch. You say it like you've got every square inch of your body covered in acne."

"I knew you wouldn't understand." Her voice was a low mumble, and she refused to look him straight in the eye.

"Understand what? That this is a part of growing up?"

"That's easy for you to say; you only have a single minuscule one while I'm cursed with bulging watermelons."

At this Christopher burst out laughing, her face falling further in disdain. "What, Christopher? Am I now a laughingstock?"

In between snickers, he spoke, "you need to hear yourself right now. Seriously? Watermelons?"

"Well I'm glad you were able to be entertained at my expense but if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way." She started to close the door, although an object restricted it from reaching the jamb. She pulled at the handle again with a harder force.

"Jesus, Sketch! Please try not to amputate my foot for Pete's sake!"

That was when she noticed half of Christopher's foot sticking through the doorway, and she whispered an apology.

He latched his hand onto her wrist. "Come with me. I'm taking you somewhere that'll make you feel much, much better."

•••

"Walmart?" Catherine scanned the large supermarket again, trying to identify the joke that Christopher might have been trying to pull. "Walmart will make me feel better?"

He tutted, using his fingers to patronizingly muss her already matted hair before she knocked his arm away. "You have so much to learn."

"Like what? Is this some sort of twisted prank because I'm not buying i-"

"Come sit with me." He'd already made himself comfortable on one of the provided metal chairs. They were marked stainless but ridden with a plethora of stains, ironically.

She did as told, the side of her body squashed against his because of the lack of space. "This is really uncomfortable."

"You could sit in my lap?" Christopher suggested with a flirtatious wink, flashing his famous heart-stopping grin.

"Can you not." Catherine willed her voice to sound annoyed or unamused, but the flushing of her cheeks betrayed her as did the squirmy feeling within the depths of her stomach. "So what happens now?"

"We wait..." he paused, "and we watch the people."

She continued to stare at his profile, expecting a punchline. When it wasn't delivered, she tugged at his sleeve. "You need to hear how stalker-esque you sound right now. You really do."

He laughed. "We're not stalking. There's a difference. We're just conducting a friendly monitoring experiment on the other members of the human race."

"Or a semblance of that," murmured Catherine as she eyed a particularly furry man that had just sidled into the building. "Jesus Christ, how long is that beard? I wouldn't be surprised if we found a tail in his trousers."

"Quite a mouth you've got." Christopher snickered. "Efficient weapon in this dark, lonely, gruesome world." He clenched his fist melodramatically.

"I think you'd excel far better in drama than me. I literally can't keep up with your theatrics."

He bowed, gaze sliding over to an overweight woman that was yelling at and insulting her children like a wild animal.

"Escaped specimen from Animal Planet," said Christopher as she threatened to smack her son upside the head. "Should we call the zoo on her?"

"Nah, with such a bodily radius like that,  they're bound to round her up soon."

"Oh my God, look at that." Christopher's attention had already shifted to another lady headed towards the checkout line.

Catherine studied her, trying to pinpoint what exactly he was aiming at. "What about her?"

"She has a child on a leash. Sketch, am I seeing well?" He rubbed his eyes roughly before refocusing them. "Nope the problem's not my eyes."

"Just her. Maybe one too many problems." Catherine stared at the lady with a bewildered expression, her mouth falling slightly ajar. "Is that even legal? What is wrong with people these days?"

"The harsh reality of the world we live in."

And so they sat, scrutinizing people and judging their insanity, taking a break in which they shared two Snickers bars and one can of Coke. Although, Christopher had adamantly refused to share his Popsicle at all costs.

After two hours, when Catherine had laughed herself to stupor, a headache burgeoning within the casement of her skull, they decided to leave.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked, entwining his fingers between hers.

"Yes, but I have to ask: what is the moral lesson of all this?"

He shrugged as he clicked open the doors of Rebecca. "Sometimes there isn't a lesson to be learnt. Sometimes we just have to live for the moment, I guess."

"Well I on the other hand have learnt a very important  lesson," she said smugly, dropping into the passenger seat.

"Oh yeah? And what could that be?" He rested his arms against the roof of his car as he leaned his head downwards to look at her, mirroring her sly expression.

"I've learnt to live for the moment."

"Hmmm. I think I have an input to add to that, since we're digging for morals here."

"I'm willing to hear your two cents worth," she joked, nudging him in the shoulder as he sat in the driver's seat. He swiftly recaptured her hand, a serious look adorned on his face that made her breath hitch in her throat.

"You're beautiful, Catherine. Don't ever let anyone make you believe otherwise. Not even yourself."