The Beginning of the End

VIII.

some sexy stuff happens so caution ;)

As things slowly drifted into mid-November, it also signified the beginning of the anticipation and stress of the holiday season. My mom had asked me to bring the box of decorations from the garage again, and we'd spend one weekend earlier in the month putting cornucopias, turkey stuffed animals, orange streams, and pumpkin-scented candles all around the house.

We were one hell of a living stereotype. So much for living in a white family. We listened to instrumental music and made our house smell similar to a Starbucks during the winter. It felt so weird to fit into what people usually thought of Caucasians.

But aside from that, our group grew. Even Heather had almost forgotten she had a sister—let alone that she might have killed her—and we still made fun of her for everything she had done because of the assholes we were.

When Florence and I finished our mini make-out session, we were greeted by the giggles of Heather, Dinah, and Timothy. Florence blushed a soft rose color.

"Oh God, what the hell do you guys want now?" she groaned, crossing her arms.

"Nothing, I guess," Heather responded with a stupid grin. "Have I told you how cute you guys look?"

"Too much," Florence and I responded instantaneously.

When it came to Heather, she was great with expressing her feelings. I mean, a little bit too much, in my opinion. Every little sign of affection I showed to Florence (or vice versa), you could hear a squeal from the other end of the room. And 100% of the time, it was Heather. You could never really depend on her, especially with her IQ and a mind that no one knew what was being thought of in there.

As we all headed to lunch, our senses enchanted by the strong smell of grilled meat and produce (decent food for once? I was probably getting ahead of myself because this shit never happened), I reached for Florence's hand and clenched.

Over time, we'd gotten more comfortable with each other, and it felt amazing to just be out there. Seeing people in movies and in real life being so open about their relationships wasn't as easy as it seemed. In fact, I never realized the balls it took to be okay with shoving your tongue down someone's throat in public and not worrying about people's grossed out stares and whatnot.

Seated around platters of decently made tacos for each of us, we dug in. Heather began wheezing freakishly, stuffing the food down her throat as she reached for a pencil and started scribbling on a worksheet.

See, when it came to Dinah and Heather (and it wasn't rare for Timothy, either), they all had severe struggles with time management. This was probably the cause for Heather's pretty bad anxiety disorder, and I was afraid something out of my control would occur once I saw her clench and unclench her sweaty fist.

On the other hand, Dinah—clearly giving no fucks whatsoever—mellowly chewed at her food as if she had all the time in the world.

"Um... Are you going to do any work or—?" Florence started.

"Florence, don't even try. You know too well already to know that I'm not going to do shit around here. And besides, how the hell is Economics going to benefit my future? It's not like I'm going to care about it while I sit on my couch next to Dave Franco, my hand on his thigh and slowly making my way down toward his—" Dinah explained, her mouth transitioning fairly quickly.

As Florence shrugged her shoulders, I took in her beauty as her hair of perfect length flowed over her shoulders like a black waterfall of beauty. Her eyes blinked so softly, the eyeballs scanning the pages of some Bible-sized book that she obviously seemed engaged in. Her nimble fingers grabbed hold of the corner of her page, flipping it.