Last Hurrah

Prologue

Milk isn't actually that fascinating.

2%...

Skim...

Non-fat

I've been standing in front the dairy fridge for 20 minutes... but I couldn't tell you another variety milk.

I don't know what to do.

So I stand here.

In front of the milk.

My sweater is too big. Mom always told me that.

It didn't flatter me I know, it gave me this frumpy shape. I didn't think about my body that often; not in nice ways at least. Especially not now.

Nice things don't cause destruction.

I can see myself in the reflection of the glass door.

For some reason I'm drawn to it.

Clear and cold.

I put my hand against glass, chills run through my body.

I'm suddenly brought back to where this all started... what caused me to be standing like a lifeless moron in front of various milks.

It was roughly 30 of us went to Forring Heights Lake, about an hour and a half north of town.

A bunch of us, friends and friends from soic and their friends from lab and their little sister and so on, I think by the time I got invited I was the friend of a friend from art class.

I remember we were working on mixed mediums, I was painting glue onto a 16x20 canvas that'd already been painted solid black, I was going to glue shredded dead leaves on it, I had lightly drawn the rough outline and I remember being overly infatuated by the stray bristles that hadn't been soaked in the glue; they followed the same movement as the rest, the dry hair gently brushed outside the lines, every curve and bend it followed. It was a mixture of my current distraction and my headphones playing if I recall some Sam Tinnesz song that contributed to me not hearing Mikey's apparent yelling my name for literal hours I mean, we've only been in class for 25 minutes but you know.. Literal hours

"Oliiiiivia!" He drew out my name like a whiny toddler. I took out my headphones and looked at him, his dark barely blue eyes were strategically tucked behind his dyed black fringe, which stood out like a sore thumb against his skin that was nearly as pale as mine; although I guess I can't say much about dyed hair sticking out, with my Atomic Turquoise hair...

Mike goes on about he likes my art.. I gaze back at my black canvas smeared with slowly drying elmers glue.

"Thanks Mikey, I was inspired by your hair."

"Ahh, 'cause its so dark and shiney." he smirks dumbly, flipping his hair.

"More in the direction of you smell like a dead horse." He glares and sticks his tongue out. "Told you you're a horse." He slaps my upper arm.

"Shut up Cotton." His nickname for me that had stuck since I dyed my hair and he said it looked like cotton candy. "Annnyway," He goes on. " So there's a bunch of us planning this last hurrah before exams consume our very souls.. I mean, not that you have one" he smirks again and I swat in his direction with my stiffening paint brush. "annnd we're gonna drive down to Forring and jump in at midnight." He stares at me with wide doe eyes awaiting for my response.

"I mean, sure, sounds fun." Sounded like harmless fun.. If there was one moment I could change. That would be it. That'd be the moment that would hurt the least amount of people. But I don't know how to change it, kept my headphones in, he knows me well enough, know I get absorbed in my art, he wouldn't have been offended.. Maybe my ignoring his waving arms he would've changed his mind on inviting me. Or maybe I should've said no. Plain and simple. No, I don't want to go; doesn't interest me. I'll probably be swamped in studying. I could've said crowds weren't my thing. Bathing suits weren't my thing. Cold ass water wasn't my thing. Death wasn't my thing.

He would've accepted any of those answers and not pestered me about it, he knows how I am sometimes; because he's the same way... Our teachers talked to the school counselor who talked to our parents who agreed it'd be a good idea we both take group counselling for social anxiety and a bunch of other bs.. I mean, we're friends now so I guess I'm grateful for that.. But I'll still never get those 2 hours every Tuesday and Thursday back again.... I clench my teeth thinking about time I'll never get back... I didn't realize I was so selfish.

After the bell rings Mikey and I make our way through the halls together, down towards the west wing staircase, that's where we always sit for lunch, sometimes other people join us, sometimes they don't.

Today we were greeted by the overwhelming scent of Axe Body Wash.

"Noah." Mikey nearly growls.

"Ohh you should go do your secret handshake with your bff!" I tease and his lip twitches.

"I hate him."

"Ha! Really, you hate him, why? Just 'cause he's dating your sister?" He scowls and looks over to the two of them sitting under the stairwell; arms intertwined.

"Not just that.. He's just... just gross! He always flips his hair like he's fucking Fabio or Justin Bieber! He smells like cologne all the time.. Not even in a nice way! Like, he replaces running water with Old Spice!"

"You always smell like cherry tomatoes but you don't hear me complaining." He looks at me confused and I just shrug my shoulders 'cause I don't even know what I'm saying.

"Yeah... Anyway.. I just don't like him. He's so cocky! Wearing his leather everywhere."

"... You wear leather."

"Well he has like those piercings!"

"Michael Downe. You have piercings."

"He has nipple piercings and I'm depressing and emo, he's just gross."

"Why are you looking at his nipples?"

"Livy!!" Simone's call breaks our staring contest.

We walk over to join them, Noah puts his hand on her thigh and Mike pretends to gag and I pinch the skin of his elbow. "Civil." I whisper. He looks at me complacently.

We all exchange greetings and I look back and forth from Mikey and his twin, they have few similarities, they have the same full lips and thick eyebrows but that's about it. Simone's nose it slightly turned up at the tip, his is smaller and buttony, her hair is armpit length and has volume you'd expect to see from a cheerleader.. Back when people cared about cheerleading, her chocolate brown looks out of place next to Mike's dyed black fluff. Her skin was sunkissed; when I first became friends with Mikey she kept trying to get me to come sunbathe with her and her crew, but laying outside in roughly four inches of fabric wasn't really my thing, but that didn't stop her from trying to befriend me, I mean, I guess it worked. Sometimes when I don't feel like.... Anything, I'll just go to their house and regardless if Mikey's home; one time I just showed up and her and bunch of her cheer/model friends were just hanging out and she invited me in and included me in everything they did, they did my hair in this kinda grungy side braid that I kinda digged, they all asked me to do their eyeliner 'cause I was the only one who could do both sides even... I was kinda a god to them, to this day I do they makeup before every game or shoot.

So yeah, their personalities are very different as well, I mean there was a few months in 2014 where they shared a stick of eyeliner, but as you can guess it was for very different styles.

Mikey's stopped wearing eyeliner but he still wears mainly dark colours or black, this one time we both wore bright pink shirts to school.. That was a mistake... It was.. Yeah.. just bad.

Simone's more on the preppy side, today she's wearing a crop top version of a baseball tee and high-waisted light blue jeans, her light pink lipstick looks pretty against her tan skin, where it'd be washed against mine.

"So did Michael tell you about Forrings Height yet?!" Her voice is so perky, almost like her words come out too fast for her mouth to keep up.

"Yeah of course, I'm down."

"Awesome!" her voice squeaks a little.

"Right, Sim," Trent, another senior, is leaning against the wall beside Noah. "Do you think Elyssa would be able to join to? She doesn't have much to do and and I think she'd have fun, a good jump into freshman year. No pun intended.".