melanie.
"Jesus lass, where did you run off to?" Jay screams over the music playing.
"Oh you know, just away from the arrogant arseholes."
"Oh I can't be that bad can I?" Jay teases.
I shake my head, and laugh a bit. That was what he was good at, just being a laugh, making others laugh at him and with him.
"You know he's looking for you?" He tells me. And I shake my head.
"Why would that be?" I say, not in the mood for him to be mean to me again, and knowing if I didn't take it like a champ he'd probably think I was a weak little thing, unable to take a joke.
I guess it's hard when the people you like are mean to you, considering everyone else is mean to you too. Sometimes you need a break.
And as soon as I realise I've been wrapped up in my own thoughts, I see Jay has run off on me, and worse— Van was making a bee line in my direction.
"Oi, lass. What's with you tonight?" He asks, and after saying it realising it came out harsher than intended.
My brain spun, trying to make up excuses or lies because I couldn't tell him— I couldn't tell him it was him and his sarcasm and his charm and his laugh and my inability to stop having a big, mushy, cringe worthy crush on him.
"Just saw your best mate sucking the soul out of my sister, dementor style."
He grimaced, and then laughed dryly.
"Jesus, that's grim isn't it."
"You have no idea." I shake my head.
I go to walk away but he pulls on my arm and I look back, right into his eyes, and instantly regret doing so.
"Your eyes looking better." He says, still awkwardly gripping me hand although I'm not trying to get away anymore.
"It's not, it's just makeup." I say, shaking my head.
He still doesn't drop his grip on my hand and he forces me to look into his eyes again as he pulled me closer. He put his mouth up to my ear, so close that I could feel the heat of his breath on it, it was hitched a little, almost like he was nervous.
"Let's get out of here." He says.
"What?" I ask, but he's already dragging me out of Larry's house and onto the street.
"Where are we going?" I say, as we walk down the street.
"Not sure, but you just looked like you needed to get out ."
"I did, thanks."
There's silence then, and neither of us really know what to say, we walk in the dark, side by side.
Van takes my hand again, and I go to say something but then I stop myself. I won't screw up this perfectly nice moment with my word vomit.
I think he sees me stop myself from saying something, because she laughs to himself a bit and then says "I gather you have a bit of an issue with your words."
"Wow, it took you long enough to figure that out."
"I'm surprised you actually had enough in you to stop yourself."
"Yeah me too, guess I'm just still in shock over Blakeway and my sister."
"Ah, the poor lad has been pining over her for months. He'll treat her right."
"He better, or he'll have me and Jay to deal with."
Van giggles to himself.
"It's not fucking funny McCann." I say, kind of jokingly, kind of seriously.
We stroll, hand in hand under the orange glow of the streetlights. It's quiet other than us, laughing and bickering every now and again. And it's nice. For once in my life, everything is nice. Nothing's falling apart, everything seems to be falling into place.
We walk into the park and Van decides we're going to sit down on one of the benches, normally I would argue, just because that's generally what I do and what people come to expect of me. I have gained a reputation for arguing about almost everything, and it drives people up the wall, and now it's just become a habit and a bit of an expectation, and I hate to disappoint.
I drive people away with my constant arguing.
"No you don't."
Shit. I've thought out loud again. Also something that gets me into trouble.
"Ok well, you probably do, but I think it's quite funny actually. And I like arguing back."
"Thanks." I say sheepishly as I sit down beside him.
Jay thinks the arguing is funny, but he doesn't argue back, usually it's just a "fuck off Ed" and a middle finger. He doesn't endorse it, he deals with it. I'm not really sure why, but he does. I guess we just get along. I don't really know what I bring to the table for him, but he still sticks around regardless of it.
"You're a strange girl, Ed."
"Please don't call me Ed, my names Melanie, and please don't call me strange, you're making me sound like Winona Ryder from Beetlejuice."
"Fine. You're funny Melanie."
"I'm not sure which compliment was worse." I say and start to laugh.
"Melanie."
"What?"
I snap by head around to wait for a reply but instead he pushes his lips up to mine and I figure that's what he meant to say.
Funny how the words that make me feel the most aren't even words at all.
It's silent for a second when we pull away, but the silence is filled with noise— tension, anticipation, nervousness.
What do I say? Do I get deep or do I laugh? I don't know which way to go and my brain darts quickly between the two options and adds countless more to the mixture, confusing me even more.
"Want me to walk you home?" Van asks.
"Sure." I blush. I feel like a character from a bad teen romance, but I can't help it.
And he walks me home, and there's silence and a little bickering again, but there's more nervous laughter as he swings out interlocked hands back and forth vigorously and I accidentally look at his face under the neon streetlights. I see the freckles on his cheeks and the faint marks around his eyes from all the smiling he's done in his lifetime. And I instantly regret it, because my heart somersaults inside my body, and I let myself be consumed by the feeling of my crush turning into actual fondness and infatuation.
I have come to the conclusion in my fleeting existence so far that love is dangerous, and so I know this can only end in something terrible, but I choose to ignore that feeling as we walk slowly towards my house, laughing and arguing, falling slowly deeper and deeper in love.
