Under The Nautical Star (Lesbian, GxG)

One

I look around me and I can't cross,

The room's distorted from the start,

I'm so tired of being lost,

Even when I have to follow my heart --

Wait, what?

My pen hesitates above the paper. I'm hesitating, too. Minutes ago, the lyrics were making sense, but now they're not. How in the fuck can I describe what it is I'm feeling?

Well, now I'm feeling defeated. 

With a silent sigh, I lean back and reread the song I have. Or thought I have. Whatever; I should have focused my passion toward guitar-playing or something. At least I wouldn't have to use words to make myself look stupid.

A gorgeous junior, who's sitting on the desk top across from me, looks up from her nail-picking. I don't actively stare at her, but I do notice the deep, black flower tattoos popping up from the collar of her muscle shirt. She's wearing a thin black sweater, but I know for a fact she has tattoos running down her arms, despite the many long-sleeve shirts she wears at school. Actually, she only shows her tattoos when school's over. 

I know I sound like I've been stalking Teegan, but we're both dedicated members of the Missfits Society, a club that meets on Fridays after school. And before the meeting starts, Teegan always excuses herself to take her backpack to a bathroom, and come back changed into clothes that lets her breathe easier (ie. shorter-sleeved shirts and other yummy pieces). Seriously, Teegan can make a lot of clothes look good on her. 

She's still staring at me. I finally 'look up'. "What's up?" I prompt.

Teegan gives me a small smile, making my insides throw a party. "I should be saying that to you," she answers. Her GoGo Tamago-inspired hair (with a dove-grey streak instead of purple) keeps me from staring at her full lips as she talks. "You stared at the paper, looked annoyed, and then leaned back to pout."

"I don't pout," I say. 

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

I respond by staying silent.

And Teegan's focused on her nail-picking again. I'm focused on the tilt of her head she does when she's concentrating.

Now I have my elbows on the table and my fingers placed through my 'rose gold' hair, almost touching the beginning of the French braid. Once again, I'm reading every word I wrote, and trying to conjure up something that makes better sense. 

After no sign of success, I take off my glasses and clean the lenses with the hem of my shirt. Maybe I can find the solution now.

... nope. Dammit.

I putting the papers in my backpack when I hear clapping. The club leader doesn't stop until the rest of the club members are paying attention to her. Cassie finally stops.

Cassie's clever, I'll tell you right now. She's tall, mean-looking, and has a scary-looking tattoo you can sort of see against her black skin. She uses her intimidating appearance to her advantage against those who think she's easy to fuck with, which is a lot. 

However, she talks with a soft tone, smiles a lot at people who deserve it, and goes all out for helping those she can help. It's essentially a trap; treat her like shit, you're gonna suffer. Give her respect, and she lets you in past the thorns.

"Alright, we're starting today's meeting with a topic I've wanted to get to in the last month," Cassie starts out. Her meticulous braids swing with her motions as she hops up on the counter next to the sink. "I know you guys were looking forward to discussing how cute Emma Watson is and gush over her success in the various projects she participated. And I promise we will get to talk about her. However, there's something I need to go over, and then we can do all the gushing after that's cleared up."

Only the two diehard fans of Emma Watson are very disappointed. The rest of us are curious for what Cassie has to say.

"So. Tomorrow's the first day of December. Which means we have two and a half weeks left until winter break."

She pauses for the group members to cheer and shit like that. When they settle down, Cassie speaks up again.

"To celebrate surviving the first part of the school year and having plenty of time for those mental health breaks I'm sure a lot of us need--" cue the 'I know, right????' replies "--I'd like for us to do a sort of Secret Santa. But, not secret."

I raise a hand. "What do you mean by that?"

"Thank God you asked." Cassie puts her hands together. "Basically, you choose someone here you think you can get a gift for. Let's say you have a knack for pottery, and you chose someone who collects them. Easier to find a gift for that person as opposed to finding a gift for someone who prefers to spend time breaking clay pots while playing those Legend of Zelda games."

McKenzie, a gamer, snickers.

Taking a breath, Cassie continues, "Everyone knows who their Santa is from the start, and they can make suggestions for their Santa to go in the right direction. Sure, the surprise would be ruined, but it would help cut down the time to find the perfect gift."

My eyebrows are furrowed in thought. I mean, Cassie's making logical sense, I can't lie. 

"The last day is on a Wednesday for this year, unfortunately, so we won't be able to have a meeting then," she tsks. "We'd have to do the gift exchange on the last Friday. Now, any comments? Concerns?"

All of us look at each other before remaining silent. 

"Cool!" Cassie hops down. "I'll pass around a piece of paper for you guys to put your name down and what you like. We can get everyone paired up by next Friday."

Just like that, she gets out a paper, clicks on her glitter pen, and hands them to the nearest member, Everyone else is broken up into little circles, having various conversations with each other. Or to just one person.

I notice the diehard fans have managed to get a couple more people into their freak-out session.

Having not much to talk about, I pull up a new piece of paper. If I write a new set of lyrics, maybe it'll suck a lot less than the other one.

Actually, I'm in the mood to draw. 

While the other members are talking to each other or taking the free time to do homework for the next day, the pen goes wild on the paper, drawing a stick figure here and a broken tree there. Hell, I'm humming a couple notes to myself.

I'm interrupted by someone giving me the paper with the names. "You put your name here, and what you'd like to get here," jet-black haired Eva tells me, pointing at both sides of the sheet while talking. 

"Okay. Thanks." I write down my name under Eva's, and then pause at the "Gift" section. There's not much I would like to get that fits in the 'broke high school student' budget. And writing down "tickets to the next P!nk concert" is a dick move compared to what the others put down.

"You done with that?" Teegan asks, after I've been staring at the paper for who knows how long.

Finally putting down "a fantasy book", I slide the paper over to her. I watch as she takes the glitter pen and leans over the paper, writing furiously. 

"Needed to write it down while it was still in your head?" I ask when she passes it off to the next member.

"Eh, something like that." Teegan crosses her legs, positioned towards me. "I thought you were writing?"

In a matter-of-fact tone, I reply, "Currently, the princess wants to befriend the dragon, so I had to stop writing for now." I'm referring to the two doodles that are half-finished but already taking up a third of the page.

The next time I look up Teegan's giving me a blank look. Finally, she nods. "Wise decision."

I don't know what else I can say other than, "Thanks."

We return to doing our things until the club meeting's over.