All Bi Myself

Even a Vampire Smiles

It’s chilly outside. You can feel winter creeping along the ground, its cold breath on your ankles and the plants all have that curled look that happens after the first frost. It’s early this year. All the farmers are talking about it, how much snow we’ll have, how cold it will be, whether it will be a dry cold or that dreaded damp cold that burrows its way into everything no matter how many layers you have on. For now, a sweater under a ski shell and a pair of sneakers is all I need to stay warm while I wait outside. Mum’s probably already in bed again, lucky cow. I run my hand through my hair and pull it back from my face tiredly. You’d think that since I knew today was the first day of school I would have planned for it. But I didn’t. And now I’m sitting on the front porch with a headache and a heavy feeling in my gut. I hate school. Let me rephrase that. I hate dealing with the people at school. Personally I enjoy learning, but I’d rather some private tutor than a classroom of thirty kids all discussing getting drunk on the weekend. I go to rub my eyes then stop remembering I have makeup on which for some reason pisses me off. I rub my forehead instead.

Ben finally pulls up in his dilapidated grandpa car and I ease the door open and gingerly sit down trying not to knock over the stack of newspapers that fill the bench seat. For a car that looks long and big from the outside there really isn’t that much room once you get in. He looks half dead and gives me a sleepy look which borders on a grimace. No doubt his stomach is bothering him again. I flip the visor down so I can fix my makeup after and press my fingers to my eyes in an effort to stop the pounding.

“We look great.” I mutter as I kick my shoes off.

Ben shrugs and pulls away from the curb and I look out the window resting my forehead against the glass.

It’s a ten minute drive to school and by the time the next town is visible I can feel myself starting to wake up. Thanks to Ben’s weird music my headache has morphed into an irritated feeling and I glance at him darkly. Ben is one of those people that I can’t remember becoming friends with. I think it started when I had to ask him for a ride when I missed the bus and that evolved into us talking then hanging out at school and eventually becoming friends; either way as I steal another glance at him I know I should say it, that I’ll feel better if I do. But something stops me and then we’re pulling up to the school and he’s parked before I can get the words out.

“Mo? You coming?” Ben asks leaning down to look back into the car at me.

I frown at him and wave him off dismissively before joining him outside. We walk in together and split up without a goodbye. I glance after him once before wandering off to find my own group of friends. A tiny kid, small enough that I wonder briefly why one of the kindergarten kids got left at the high school bumps into me and he looks up with a sneer. His hair is white, that blonde colour that almost hurts your eyes and he has buck teeth and a little pale frog eyes that bulge outwards. It’s surprising that someone that is more than a foot shorter than me can manage to give me attitude but what really surprises me is when some retort along the lines of ‘watch it bitch’ slides out of his mouth. Before I know what’s happened I’ve slammed him against a locker with a simple push.

“You watch it you little fuck.” I call over my shoulder as I brush past a group of girls.

I see Christy and head her way after a brief hesitation. That feeling of clawing my way past something and wanting more settles over me and I greet it like an old friend. It’s mandatory that I speak to her since she’s supposedly my best friend but honestly sometimes I wonder why, but then again, why not? She’s looking behind me with an amused expression.

“What just happened?” she asks and I shrug.

She’s leaning against the wall and I come to stand beside her. I’m not a leaner, I don’t relax when I’m at school and I’m too tall. The staff thinks it’s a good idea to hang pictures of past classes everywhere, as if free wall space is something to hide at all costs. I explain what the kid said and Christy smirks.