𝒌 𝒊 𝒅 𝒔 || BRAD RENFRO

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚

Carol was mad.
But then, when was she not?
She positioned herself in front of the bathroom mirror, coiling her short blonde hair into tight ringlets that hung around her round face.
Carol sighed. She shook out her hair and stood up, flattening the skirt of her white dress. She had no say in going to this stupid party. If her best friend, Tammy, was still here, she would have to problem in attending this event. The two would sprawl out on the grass of her backyard while the adults cooked, drank, and smoked on the deck.
But Tammy had ditched poor Carol to move away. All the way to Burbank in Canada.
Carol sighed deeply again, hopping out of the bathroom and slipping on her old black converse sneakers, ancient hand me downs from her older brother, Gus, as she walked down the stairs.
People had already started arriving as she walked into the living room. The usual group of old people, little kids in mismatched thrift store outfits and about a million middle aged woman and men, all her parents age and all equally as nosy and annoying.
Her mom tried to get her to help out with passing around drinks and snacks and cigars, but she soon got bored and turned to retreat over to the tree in the very back of their multi acre yard.
Carol heard the sound of soft guitar music drifting from the tree top and looked up.
A boy had seated himself in her special spot right between the shrivelled branches. His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration, his brown eyes narrowed beneath honey-blond bangs as he cranked out an old Rodríguez song. Carol recognised it. It was 'I think of you'. A song Gus used to sing with his friends around the campfire as they drunk vodka straight from the bottle.
She missed that. Even if his friends were total creeps and were constantly flirting with her in a joking sort of matter.
Although she was enjoying the sweet song and the way he sung softly under his breath, she was still mad that he had taken her spot.
"That's my spot, asshole." She said.
The boy looked down and laughed.
"Free country, isn't it?"
Carol rolled her large blue eyes at him. "Yeah but it's still my spot."
He threw a can of some sort down at her. "Drink. It's good for you."
Carol scoffed at the label. "I'd actually like to keep my brain cells."
He drank from a similar can. "Whatever you want, darlin'."
He talked with a strong southern accent, like a cowboy or Indiana Jones. It was a strange thing for people in a town of just over seventy to see a foreigner passing through. Carol was curious, determined to find out as much as she could about whatever big city he was from.
She began to climb the tree, leaving the beer abandoned on the grass, and sat in between the forked branches across from him.
"Why're you sittin' with an old fart like me?" He asks, looking up from underneath long eyelashes at the girl. "An asshole who stole your special tree or whatever."
Carol shrugged. "I dunno."
The boy looked at her, studying her features. He noted her big eyes, ringlets and galaxy of freckles across her nose. She looked young, but she seemed old. Mature.
"How old are you?" He asked.
"How old are you?" She asked.
"Fifteen. Nearly sixteen..." He sighed. "Being a teenager sucks, man. Not like you would know anything about that."
Carol rolled her eyes and leaned her head against the branch that was brushing against her hair.
"I've just turned fourteen."
His eyes widen and his cheeks grow red. "Wow, I mean, sorry, just... You look so little. Like that's not a bad thing or anything but shit, man."
Carol laughed, showing the braces across her teeth and throwing back her head. "I get it. My brother's friends used to make fun of me all the time about it. You know, since I look so young and all."
He smirks at me. "Well, there's some things about you that make you look older."
She resists the urge to push him out of the tree since she knows he's talking about her boobs.
"You fucking pig!"
"That dress can't even hold it in, baby." He smirks. "What're you? A d-cup?"
"Shut up!" She yelled. "Jesus, you truly are a southern gentleman, aren't you?"
"Just being polite, darlin'." He sighed. "What I do best."
"I can tell."
"Ok, I'm sorry. I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable or anything." He said.
She still didn't look at him.
"Look, I was joking, man." The boy insisted.
"Whatever." Carol replied.
She was sick of people commenting on her chest. What's so good about it, anyway?
She kept her eyes off of him, staring out at the grass below.
"C'mon, sweetie." He reached out to turn her face towards his, but she slapped his hand away. "You know, I could actually be a really nice guy. I'm sorry for being a dick."
"Well, you should be." She mumbled.
The boy laughed. "Hey, quit trying to act all tough, beautiful. I know you've got a smile in there for me."
Carol ignored these remarks, even if the most handsome boy she'd ever seen just called her beautiful. She glanced back at him. He was staring straight at her, his eyes smiling as well as his mouth.
She couldn't help it. This beautiful mystery boy had stolen her heart without even trying.
And she smiled.
The boy shook his head. "I knew you couldn't hold back."
"That's true." She said. "Anyway, you distracted me with that gross-ass comment so I couldn't ask what your name was. So, what's your name?"
The boy hesitated for a moment. "Um, it's Casper."
Carol snorted. "So like Casper The Friendly Ghost?"
Casper rolled his eyes. "Shut up. So, uh, what's yours then?"
The girl sighed a scratched the back of her neck. "You're gonna make fun of me."
He shrugged. "Probably, but how can we be friends if I don't know your name?"
"My name's Carol." She said.
"What's so bad about that?" Casper asked.
She shrugged. "I dunno."
Carol was confused.
She hadn't known anyone who hadn't asked her if her favourite movie was 'A Christmas Carol' or some shit.
But Casper didn't seem to mind.
"It's a pretty name." He said.
He wasn't looking at her, almost looking at the ground in a scared way. "I guess it's just another amazing thing about you."
Heat crept into Carol's cheeks. "I'm not really amazing, sorry."
Casper threw his head back. "Oh my god, you're kidding, right?"
"Casper, you barely know me..."
He finally looked back at her, his brown eyes welcoming and warm. "I want to. This town is only full of old people and five year olds, it'll be good to maybe get to know someone close to my age."
Carol nods understandingly. "Well, there used to be this one girl, Tammy. She moved away though. You would've liked her a lot more than me."
He shakes his head and smiles. "Oh, darlin', I could never like someone more than you." Casper quickly picked up his guitair and strummed to test the sound. "What's your favourite song, doll face?"
Carol thought for a moment.
She had a load of favourite songs.
"I like 'When You Sleep' by My Bloody Valentine."
He nodded, his bangs flopping against his forehead. He strummed the first few chords out. "You sing?"
Although she was stunned he knew the song so well, she managed a small 'no'.
"I'll give you lessons sometime." He offered and then began to sing the first line. "When I look at you, oh, I don't know what's real once in a while..."
He was looking at her as he sung. He was directing the lyrics at her yet she was clueless.
"And I'll see you tomorrow and it won't be long... once in a while. Then you take me down, then you walk away..."
Casper sung with a low, raspy voice. He sounded like Kurt Cobain, only younger.
Without even thinking he leaned over to her, his lips nearly touching hers as he whispered the lyrics. "When you say I do, oh, I don't believe you..."
Casper was just centimetres away from kissing her, but before he could, she pulled away.
He stopped played and looked away. "Sorry... I just wasn't thinking."
Carol shook her head. "No, it's fine. I just... I barely know you."
He grabbed her hand in his. "But you can. I want you to."
She sighed. "I know. I like you a lot ."
"Oh yeah, I'm just fucking dashing, aren't I?" He said.
The girl laughed.
"Hey, you said it, not me."
Gus had always told her love at first sight wasn't true and she believed him. Up until now.
A loud hammering of footsteps could be heard from below the tree, ruining the moment. It was Carol's poor excuse for an older brother.
"The food's ready!" He yelled. "Mom's been calling you for the past fifteen minutes but you couldn't hear her because you were too busy talking to your boyfriend or whatever."
For seventeen, Dean was very immature.
"Shut up! We're coming now." She replied.
"He's not lying." Said Casper.
Carol rolled her eyes.
"You wish."

I'm cringing.