The Consequences Of...

6.

"When did you get here!" Simon shouts. We're in the kitchen, pretty much alone, except for the occasional drunk that wanders in, I swear drunk high school kids are like a bunch of sleepy four year olds, "where are we going" "I want a pony, who else wants a pony, I'm getting a pony" "wanna see me do a trick...ow" If there weren't drinking and making out every where I would think I'm back at daycare before nap-time.

"I got here a little bit after you started sucking that girls face off actually" I say. I don't care about it, but apparently he does. He looked over just a few seconds after I did to see him kissing the red head. He looked really sad at first, but then he got all angry and grabbed my arm to pull me into here. Then he started yelling at me. "I don't know what your problem is!" I say. His eyes are different again today, Light pink, they matched my skirt. They looked really good with his dark blue hair, that was spiked up today with  more than to much gel. He wore a black dressy shirt with sleeves that came to his elbows and gave him a striking punk/boyish look. his ripped black and red jeans had chains hanging from the belt and his sneakers matched a pare that I had at home. His lips smelled like bear and cherries, instead of strawberries like usual, I guessed it was the girls chap-stick on his mouth. I'd never paid much attention  to the way he dresses, but I think I should more often, he's got an amazing sense of style for a guy like him.

He keeps sighing and making fists, I don't know hat to do or say at this point. "What do you want me to say Simon, sorry for coming to the party that you told me to come to?" I shout, I have to shout because of the music. "What do you think I am, some guy-slut who goes around making out with every girl he sees. Well I'm not!" he shouts. This confuses me. "I never said you were!" I shout back, but I have a strange urge to ask him if he knows that girls name, I have a good feeling he doesn't.

"I, I don't break peoples hearts for fun, I don't lead girls on, and I'm not a guy-slut. I just..." He trails off. "Simon, I never thought that, I never accused you of that. you don't have to explain things to me, because I don't care" I say, it comes out meaner than I mean it too. He looks so hurt for a split second. "What is your name, it's killing me" he finally says. "What?" I say pretending I can't hear him, but I just don't want to answer the question. "Come on" he says grabbing my hand. His hand is warm, and mine feels numb. His entire, enormous hand his wrapped around my little one. he pulls me up the stairs and into a room lined with book shelves filled with Cds, Books, and movies. A small TV sits in the corner and a big bed with a blue comforter is unmade. Clutter and clothes cover the floor but he kicks them away. "you have allot of..things" I say. Up here the music is almost pretty much just thumping and the occasional shout of lyrics. Simon laughs. I'd never seen so many Cds and book in one room, not even in stores. They're everywhere. The room is cluttered, but it feels very open also, like the clutter is a part of it and it's kinda nice.

"I asked what your name is" he said sitting down on his bed. "Sit" he says. I know that's a bad idea, but of course  I can't argue with him because of how scared of him I am. "why do you want to know?" I ask. "Because I want to, why do you want to know why my eyes change colors?" he asks. "because it's weird" I say without thinking, he gives me a weird, kinda sad look. "You think it looks weird?" he asks. He's staring at me with those pink eyes that are more intimidating than girly. Whoever thought Pink was a girly color clearly has never seen pink in this boys eyes. "Not a bad weird, like interesting weird. Like exciting to figure out weird I guess" I'm not sure if I'm saying the right thing, but he half smiles. "Well then the same with you, I want to know your name cause it's interesting to try and figure it out" he says. It's almost like he's looking through me, but his eyes keep trying to meet mine and i'm not sure of how much I want them too.

"Are you mad at me?" i ask in a clear voice so it doesn't sound defensive. "No...what is your name?" He says. I shake my head. "I don't tell people my name" i say, because it's true. I've never told anyone my name, the only way people have found out is by hearing teachers call me "Edith" and most of them don't talk to me at all, or call me Ms. Hasser. I haven't given out my real name to someone since fifth grade, for a while i liked mouse better anyway. Edith just sounded too....good.