Basorexia

Chapter Two

Trying on the eighth outfit of the night the sound of a motorbike horn was heard. Sticking my head from my window, I quickly motioned I would be a moment before resuming my search for the correct outfit. The only thing grungy I had was an old halter top from my obsession of "fitting in" about two years ago and a pair of short shorts. Putting together a pair of tights, I tore them with my strength and found they appeared truly emo. Going back to the mirror, I placed the halter top over my bra and found it just covered what was necessary. Exposing my navel piercing, I then through my dark jacket around my arms before emerging from the front door. Luckily, my parents were out of town-as always, so I had no one to critique my chosen clothes.

Upon seeing me, his expression changed from amused to surprised as his eyes moved to my stomach.

"You have a piercing?"

"Told you, you don't know about me."

Throwing my leg around to the other side of the bike, I wrapped my arms around him as he handed me a helmet to place on my cranium. He turned around and assisted with the latches as I saw his gaze move up and down from me to the task at hand.

"Secure?"

I nodded as he revved his engine and began driving to the destination. It was about a ten minute ride before we arrived at a concert hall with a large sign glittering with the band's name. Entering inside, hundreds of teens and young adults were inside already dancing and moving back and forth-gently bobbing their heads. Sliding his hand in his pocket, he took out a container of asprin.

"For your imminent headache." He teased as I clutched the bottle and stuck it in my jacket.

As the band began, I realized it was more of a mellow emo sound then the heavy metal I was accustomed to. Guitar riffs and the crashing of drum symbols caught my attention as I found my body sway to the music. Standing in the balcony, I felt his body behind me as he matched my movements-but did not touch me. My heart raced at the thought of his hands on my waist, grinding against him. But throughout the entire night, he never did anything but sway behind me.

The duration of the concert was nearly two hours-closing around midnight as he drove me home on his bike. Feeling the frigid night air brush against my body as I held him was a mix of hormones and adrenaline before he stopped in front of my house.

"Can I come in?" He asked after assisting me off the bike.

"No!" I said quickly.

"Are your folks home?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I hardly know you! Not only that...but that usually only means one thing..."

I glared as another smirk came over his lips. I was beginning to think he never stopped smirking. Or if he did, he just changed the side of his mouth that the smirk was prominent upon.

"And would that be so horrible...from what you say...you are not inexperienced..."

"I am also not a tramp!"

He moved his hands up to show he meant no harm-that he conceded.

"I suppose I'll see you at school then?"

"Maybe."

"I am beginning to think you might be a bad influence on me." He teased as he flipped the visor down on his bike.

As he rode off into the night-his engine being heard all through town before eventually dying down. Arriving in my room, I found that the entire living room had glass from broken pictures and pottery strewn on the floor. My father stood with a busted fist as Adaline was crying on the couch. Mascara caked her cheeks as she was sobbing and speaking to him-even as I walked in.

"Where the hell have you been?!" He asked as Adaline rose to her feet, her heels clicking and gaining his attention. "I'm not done with you! Sit your ass down!" When his sight caught my clothing, he walked towards me, making me walk back towards the door that I had just shut and locked. "Where were you dressed that way? I spent thousands a year on that private school...just for you to dress like a slut?"

Tears filled my eyes as I could smell the alcohol upon his breath.

"Answer me, you whore!" Grabbing my arms tight, I was able to break free and hide in my bedroom. I lingered here the rest of the night, immediately down from my high with Grant, and falling asleep in a puddle of my own tears.

He was not always so horrid, but when he was; there was no stopping him, and it only escalated.