Good Girl

two

The next week, I paid a hell of a lot more attention to Teresa. On Friday, she wore this short pink dress and her hair was held in place with a pink bow, as always. She was an average height, I supposed. I really noticed just how skinny she was. I'm not talking about her being in shape with toned everything, I mean she was probably the skinniest girl I had ever seen. She had such thin arms, I thought I could easily snap them in half. Her thighs were about four inches apart and her stomach was so slim it sloped in instead of buldging out or being flat. I then understood the constant rumors of her being annorexic or some shit, but I doubted it was true. All week, she'd snuck glances at me while her friends weren't minding her. I guess I was the second choice, but I knew she was at least thinking about me.

"Okay, okay, dude." Dylan held his head in his hands. "I might need you to drive me home. Like right now."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Dude, I'm serious." He groaned.

"So am I. Next time, don't come to school so damn hungover." I dumped my empty drink can in the trash bin and left him at the table.

When I had picked Dylan up that morning, he was so eager to share all the details of his surprise welcome back party and how he almost fucked so-and-so and this-girl slapped that-girl and I just sat there, not minding him at all.

Dylan was my best friend, when we were younger at least. Then, sometime during our freshman year, everything became partying and drinking and girls. Every moment spent with Dylan, my eagerness to leave grew five times stronger. I couldn't wait for university, where it would just be me and college. No Dylan, no dodging the cops, no more smoking (hopefully). 

I went to my locker to grab my things for the last class, where I found a note inside. It said; meet me at the Station after school. 

I could easily tell who it was from, considering only two people would speak to me and I was pretty sure Dylan wouldn't write in purple pen on heart-printed paper. What surprised me was the fact that Teresa knew about the Station. It was an old gas station that hadn't operated since before my parents were married, and it was, as my dad referred to it as, the 'hip teen hang out'. So basically it' was where you went to get stoned or fuck someone else's girlfriend in the woods behind the run-down 7-11.

Chemistry went by slower than usual, and I sat in front of two obnoxiously smart people (whom I copied answers from), and behind two irritating girls who would never shut up. I kept glancing at the clock, as if that would make time go faster. I spent the whole period thinking about Teresa.

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So after the painfully long ninety minutes of overhearing what-shoes-to-wear-when and graphing geometric equations, I pulled up to the Station and sat on the curb. I then waited another ten minutes until a skinny blonde walked up and plopped down next to me.

"I'm surprised you knew about the Station." I muttered, pulling out my pack of smokes and offering her one (she refused).

"Of course I know about it." She elbowed me, and I elbowed her back.

"What are you doing after graduation?" She sighed, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Leaving Bradford as soon as possible." I took a long drag.

"Aren't we all?" She chuckled. I brought my arm around her waist, and it was so strangely familiar and comfortable, I could sit there like that forever.