Deep Breath | G.Dolan

Moving forward

"Well that's just awkward as shit," James said. I was hanging out with him, sitting in a café after class one day.

"Yeah man like what the fuck am I supposed to make of that like 'Oh sorry I thought you were in love with me for a day or two. Just a tiny misunderstanding.'"

  "What did you say after that?" he asked sipping his chamomile like a hipster douche.

"I just said 'Oh well that's a relief' and started laughing like an asshole." He laughed at my misery.

"Well I mean you don't care, right? It seemed like you were all into Bryant... literally." He smiled trying not to laugh and did that thing where he puts his tongue at the back of his teeth.

"Stop it," I said checking my phone for any texts. NOPE STILL UNPOPULAR. I saw my reflection in the black of the screen...still chubby in the face too.

"I'm just saying. I know you have 'morals' or whatever but you seemed to forget about all of those in your tight mini dress and straight hair." He put air quotes around the morals.

"Stop judging me. You of all people should understand my problem."

 "What exactly is your problem?" He was staring at me intensely.

"That I didn't feel bad about it afterwards. Fuck, I still don't feel bad about it," I said leaning my head in my hands. Yes, you don't feel bad about it because you're a little whore kebab.

"You want to do it again don't you?" he said mocking me.

"No..." I said trying not to smile. It didn't work so I just ended up scrunching my face up.

"Yeeeaaaah." I just smiled and shook my head. He is putting unholy thoughts into my head. "I am having a get together tonight, I meant to tell you. Bryant is going to be there, you can't avoid him forever, and don't be a hermit and miss it."

"I guess you're right...plus, I mean I do kind of want to see him again." Oh wait do I feel bad for saying that? Nope sill nothingness and sin.

"That's how it starts. Kissing...boyfriends...then it's the tattoos and the alcohol. You will be leading a life of hard drugs soon enough." He said it so casually.

"So I'll turn into Mike?"

"Exactly,"

"You know I could be you...if I started wearing heavier makeup." I got the last word as we got up to walk back to his car so he could drive me home. Well...Grayson's house; the house of broken dreams, sad realities, and an unfinished 8-page essay.

I walked into the house and threw my shit on the couch. I hopped on and curled my feet up next to me. I flicked on the TV and tried to manoeuvre the channels without a guide...it was all the way across the room and there was no way I was getting my ass up to get it. Nudity, cursing, and crude humour on the television...this is why I like English television. Mothers in America riot and burn their fucking panties if someone says the word "bitch." Here they could use the phrase "cunt whore slut squirrel" and people would just call it cartoons.

"Grayson? Are you home? It's an emergency!" I yelled. I heard quick footsteps down the stairs.

"What? What is it?" He was standing next to the couch talking on the phone.

"I can't reach the remote." He stared at me for a good 43 seconds. "So...maybe I wasn't clear. Can you get it for me?"

"You are truly ridiculous," he said picking up the remote and handing it to me. "No, your friend is an asshole," he said to the person in the phone.