Crushes, weirdos and the little things

Just Rose

I know Lacey's unbelievably pretty and kind and funny and I so want her to be an absolute bitch. Hating her would make so much more sense if she weren't all those great things. As it is now I can only hate her for one thing, and I can't even tell anyone I actually hate her. Every time we meet she smiles at me, like I'm the greatest person ever, and she hugs me. Somehow I manage to act as if I like her, or tolerate her at least.

My friends can't figure out why I'm not the best of friends with Lacey, because they think we're perfect for each other. Also they want me to have a bestie. I know they kinda see me as the third wheel, them all having a best friend and me bringing up the rear. What they don't get is that I actually already have a best friend. That we've been best friends since forever. They don't know I have someone I see every single day and someone I talk to about all the stuff. All the stuff, except me hating Lacey.

***

The bedroom door is closed and I never really thought about that before. Now my heart constricts a little every time the door closes, because no one thinks there's anything happening in there that demands the door to stay open. Not that anything happens, well, a lot of things happen, but not what they're afraid of. It's like I'm this sexless creature and the mere thought of me and Jonathan doing anything inappropriate would never cross their mind.
I'm just Rose. The girl from down the street who's as a part of this household as the old kitchen counter or the ugly brown sofa or the Bruce Lee poster tacked to Jonathan's ceiling. And my parents are as used to him sitting in our kitchen in the mornings, any morning, that they don't even blink. Sometimes when I get home from practice I find him and my dad watching sports, other times Jonathan will be in my room doing his homework and no one thinks that's strange.

This Saturday afternoon we're hanging out in his room, listening to music and talking or not talking. That's one of the best things about us; we don't have to do anything at all. We're lying on his bed, my feet are up against his headboard and his are hanging off the other end.
"Are you going to the dance?" Jonathan's question comes as a surprise.
"I guess. I don't know. Everyone's going." I sigh.
Jonathan lets out a short laugh. "You sound like it's your execution or something!"
"Yeah, well... I know it'll be fun once I get there, but all this with the dresses and the hair and the matchy matchy gets to me."
I feel him moving and suddenly his face is right over mine. His upside down grin breathtaking. "Why don't we go all black? You and me."
I can't breathe. "Yes." My voice is nearly indistinguishable. I clear my throat. "I mean, yeah, sure."

***

The dress I bought for the dance is hanging in my wardrobe. Out of sight does not mean out of mind. The hot water bottle has lost most of its heat and I need to take more painkillers. I dread getting out of bed. I know lying still isn't the best option, but the first day is always the worst and I have puked more than once because of how much it hurts.
Mom and dad went shopping, so I have the house to myself this afternoon. Which would be awesome, but for the fact that I'm more or less crippled by cramps. Mom's left a note in the kitchen telling me to have anything I want and that she's called school and told them I'll be back on Monday. I pop my super duper cramps fighting pills and chug a big glass of orange juice while I'm waiting for the water to boil. Carefully I fill the hot water bottle again and drag my pathetic self back to my room.
My friends have sent me snaps and texts wondering why I wasn't at school. I just tell them I'm sick. Like, yeah, cramps aren't anything to be ashamed of, but no one gets how bad mine are. When I talk about how much they hurt I always get a "everybody has cramps" and an eye roll. So I don't talk about them anymore.

There's a group text going on about Allie not having the right rhinestone hair clip for tonight's dance and everyone is hurrying home to look in their drawers. Even though I said I wasn't very hyped about going tonight, I've kinda secretly looked forward to it, ever since Jonathan asked me to go all black with him.
I turn notifications off for the group text and lie in my bed, staring at my wardrobe. It's like I can hear my dress whispering to me. It's perfect. Sleeveless and just past the knee, matt black satin and across the bodice there's a dragon embroidered with slightly more shiny thread. At first you'd think it's just random embroidery, but look closely and long enough and the dragon appears. I was going to pair it with black Converse, my favorite leather jacket and curl my hair and pin some of it and let the rest hang free. I even bought a new burgundy lipstick and haven't even gotten around removing the plastic wrapping around the tube. I sigh and close my eyes.