Queen of the Headphone Zombies

Pulse

I Feel Like I'm Drowning// Two Feet

ZOE

Traitor is the only word I can think of watching Chelsea laughing at new boy's side as they make their way down to the car. No amount of arguing or berating has swayed Chelsea from giving him a ride to and from band practice today. No phony tears or grasping at my chest while declaring this new bond she has with him is aggravating my broken heart has swayed her from spending time with him. Which makes me think that she really must have a thing for this guy. And I don't know why that thought annoys me so much. But it does.

Maybe I'm jealous that someone will come between us. Our friendship is sacred and up until now Chelsea has never shown and interest in dating. She has over the years declared "love" an emotion best left to the weak minded. Chelsea has grand, mostly secret, plans for her future and anything that derails from that will not be tolerated. These, mostly secret, career plans of hers change every year. Last year she wanted to be a great novelist, this year she wants to one day to run for senate. I've always encouraged her in whatever she wants to do, because that's what best friends do. They watch each other's back. Which is why I'm having such a hard time understanding why she is keeping time with this "musical wannabee" when I've made it clear I can't stand the guy. Is she really choosing him over me? I can't bear the thought. And as he gets closer to the car and looks my way, I can't help but show my disgust at this new friendship. I glare at him. His eyes widen and then he looks at me for a long time, before I finally look away. 

She calls him, "Em". He makes her laugh. The whole thing makes me want to puke.

What's worse is the fact that this dude is uber rich. The mansion they just walked out of is four times bigger than my house. And he has a staff, like maids his family has hired. As I waited in the car, I watched an old man in a straw hat cutting some bushes. Not some young teens mowing the lawn, which is what happens in my neighborhood. What kind of money do you have to have to afford paying other grown folks to clean your shit and trim your weeds?

Chelsea's family is well off. Her parents aren't uber rich, but they go on nice vacations and they buy her new doc martins, not because her current ones are worn, but because she just wants a new pair. But Chelsea has never seemed to care about money. Or cared about the super popular rich kids who boast about their expensive cars and their expensive stuff every chance they get. If it was anyone else but Chelsea, I would say maybe she was spell bound by this guy's moola and his status at school. Without even trying he seems to have become accepted in the popular kids' group. They greet him the hallways as if he is one of their own. Like hangs with like.

But Chelsea doesn't care about how someone looks, or their status, or their family bank account. She likes genuine people. Real people. People with a good heart. Which makes this whole relationships she has with "Em" so confusing.

Chelsea slides into the driver's seat and I hear new guy getting into the back seat behind me. I feel his knees lean into my seat, but I refuse to turn around and say hello.

Chelsea cheerfully calls out, "Ready? Let's get this party on the road." And then she peels out of the driveaway.

It takes me a moment to realize that new guy has shifted his position and now instead of sitting directly behind me he is sitting in the center of the back seat and is leaning forward with hands over his knees and his fingers hovering over the armrest. The armrest between Chelsea and I.

I swear his fingers are so close to my elbow I can feel the heat of them against my skin. I quickly shift in my own seat and huddle closer to the door. I know if I look up into the rear-view mirror, I will see his reflection looking back at me. So I don't look up. Instead turn and look at Chelsea.