He stood for everything she was against and he wouldn't be caught dead befriending someone like her, but when the worst happens and they find themselves in a similar situation, only then will they realize they need each other to discover the anatomy...
It was the way she walked, one leg stretched in front of the other, in a perfectly straight line, hips swinging with every step, which first made me fall in love with her at the painful age of five. She would flip her bright red hair over her shoulder, without fail, and strut her way around the room, and I'd follow her wherever she moved. Farrah St. James. I loved watching her walk. Now, whenever she walked, she would stretch her long legs in front of her, flip her long hair back, making sure they all saw her. But then, she'd turn to me and smile, that smile saying 'anyone can watch, but only you can have me.'
Except tonight. I watched as she broke away from the group of girls she was speaking with to walk up to the newest addition to our small party, not looking my way. Her eyes burning as she watched her prey.
Token party trash, Santana Valencia walked into the house, under the lanky limb of her junkie boyfriend Jasper Heslin. Her bright bleached hair spilled into her face as she tripped over her own feet under the weight of his arm, and she laughed maniacally as if it were the most charming thing in the world instead of the most obnoxious. They usually only made a blurry eyed appearance at our parties to deal. Jasper was the kind of dude we only tolerated enough to score from but even then, it was bizarre seeing them in the midst of us. We were from different planets. It was Us and Them. Even now as they walked through the small crowd that had joined me at my parent's cabin, I could see the differences. They were gray, their clothes almost tattered, but I suppose that was how they liked it. In contrast, we were shining; the golden children of Olympia.
It was only by some miracle and district boundary lines that they had ended up going to school with us. Santana was in our grade, but she only came to class when she felt like it.
"Who the hell called you?" Farrah spat at Jasper.
"Relax, Farrah. I called them." Ansel pushed his way through the crowd towards Jasper.
"Yeah, relax, Ginger Spice." Santana's eyes suddenly focused on Farrah.
"Don't talk to me, freak," Farrah hissed before walking away in disgust, towards the kitchen. I followed her out of the living room as everyone else watched with unhindered amusement. They all secretly loved to see their queen crack.
When I reached the kitchen, I saw her throwing back a shot of something blue.
"I hate your cousin."
"Yeah, Ansel can be a dick," I agreed, watching her throw back another shot. "But I don't understand why you let it get to you like that." I walked up to her and put my arms around her waist, burying my face in her soft hair. She recoiled and squirmed out of my embrace, taking yet another shot.
"I hate them. Those freaks. I hate them showing up here as if they belonged with their filthy hands touching everything. Their greedy eyes searching for something to take. And your stupid cousin. Ugh. I specifically told them not to call them. And that stupid bitch..." Another shot. "Santana." Another shot.
"Ansel's just having fun." I said as she tried to take a swig directly from the bottle. "Hey, hey. I think you've had enough to drink." I tried taking the bottle of blue from her hand, but she fought me and pulled it away, spilling it on her white skirt.
"How can you defend what they do?" She didn't even make to clean her skirt, which now looked like a toddler's preschool art project dripping onto the floor.
"I'm not. You know I think that shit is stupid, but Ansel will always do what he wants."
"Oh, that's right. 'The Rosethorn boys will always get their way.' Isn't that your family mantra?"
"What are you even talking about?" Was this really happening?
She started walking away, still talking, so I followed her out the kitchen and up the stairs towards the bedroom. "You, Caleb! You're so passive!"
"That isn't true."
"Then why are they here? You know I hate that slut-"
"Honestly, I don't even know why you let her bother you so much."
"That's irrelevant."
"Then what's relevant?" I was starting to get angry, but something in my gut was telling me to calm down. To not make things worse. But if there is one thing I'm great at, it's turning bad into a fucking disaster. "What the hell are you even crying about this time, Farrah!"
"That!" She pointed a drunken hand at me. "You. This is so typical of you, Caleb. You always create a problem and then act as if nothing is your fault and you leave the mess to the rest of us to clean up for you."
We obviously weren't talking about the junkies anymore.
"You're so passive, and it's pissing me off," she continued, now pacing around the room swinging the bottle around like a gun. You're doing nothing. Being nothing. You just exist in this little high school fantasy, while the rest of us are doing something about life. I bet you haven't even filled out your college applications." A weird turn of the conversation, but I knew this was what she had been leading up to.
"So, what? My parents will just pay wherever they want me to go."
"And you're just going to bum your way through, like you've been doing." A statement.
"Farrah, I have a 3.8 gpa-"
"That's what I mean!" She wheeled around suddenly. "You're so damn smart but you take it for granted while the rest of us slave away working our asses off to get what you have. You're so smart but you're an idiot who doesn't do anything with it!"
"You're drunk."
"Yeah." Her tone turned somber. "Good thing, or else I'd never have the guts to say this to you. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't take life seriously, Caleb. You don't care about anything."
"I care about you."
"I don't want to be your purpose! I need someone with passion! Who thinks about life beyond the present. Someone with a game plan."
"Farrah we're eighteen! Who the hell has a 'game plan' at eighteen?" Now I was pissed. I'd chalked it all up to her being drunk and annoyed at the junkies but this was getting weird and I didn't like it.
"Most of us who live in the real world, Caleb! I'm done with you." She suddenly swung the bottle so hard, it slipped from her unstable grasp, hurtling towards me. I ducked out of the way, and watched as it shattered on the wall, raining crystal on the hardwood floor. It could've been my heart that she now stepped on, crunching her way out of the room in her stilettos, leaving me to pick up the broken pieces.
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Sigh. Not quite 1600+ words, but still an accomplishment! Enjoy (my one and only reader so far, Jo. lol)
