Safety Pins || Fuenciado

Chapter 3

I don't forget about Vic's guilty conscience; not because I don't trust him, but because I want to know what I'm up against. Still, I don't work up the courage to ask about it until much later. One night when we're due to meet, I promise myself to get it out of him.

I'd like to say that I've gotten to know every little detail about Vic; his quirks, his secret desires, his favorite color or animal or food; but frankly, there hasn't been a lot of romance. Up until this point, we've just been progressively making out more and more.

That doesn't mean I don't feel something for him, because God, I do. I'm like a goddamn girl with the way I daydream in class about sneaking out my window, borrowing Tony's car, and driving to the same old bar just to climb up on the roof and kiss Vic, to hear his startling optimism and occasional shitty jokes. Tony thinks I have a thing for Kelly Travis, who sits in front of me in Chemistry. I let him think it. It won't hurt anybody if I pretend to look at her rack when I'm actually thinking of Vic's slender waist or those damn wide, brown eyes.

We always meet in the same place. His gigs end at eleven; he smokes outside until I get there at eleven-fifteen and we climb up together to light up, get high, talk, or just kiss. He always wears the Ziggy Stardust jacket even though I embarrassed him about it before. Sometimes he has a beanie fitting snugly on his head; sometimes he wears cutoff shorts instead of his usual absurdly-tight jeans. Almost always, he wears the dress shoes, but last time he borrowed Mike's combat boots and he looked damn hot. Can shoes make someone hot? Well, they certainly did him wonders. It was a change from his usual half-punk half-pussy getup to full-on badass; aside from the Bowie logo, of course.

I hate to say it, but I might be falling in love. When I met Vic, I was drawn to him, obviously. My initial impression was that this kid has no idea what the hell he's doing. Then, I heard his voice. That was step one. The aggression and desperation of it while he sang; it made my blood pump violently through my veins; it shot me with adrenaline. I thought, okay, maybe he's not clueless. He's damn strange, but he must know it. It's weird to think that almost a month ago, I hadn't met him yet, but I thrashed around to his voice.

Step two was speaking to him. It was the enthusiasm that surprised me. He wasn't like every other punk kid in L.A. with half-assed angst and an unhealthy love of Black Flag. He didn't want to make music just to get some anarchic words into the air or impress his friends. When I met Vic, I realized that that's just who he is. Who else would be passionate enough to stomach singing and yelping and wailing and growling against his fourteen-year-old brother's jittery drum beats? The fact that it actually sounds good makes it better. Nobody can deny that Vic was put here to write music and shove it onto the airwaves in the loudest way possible.

The first night, I went home with a dull throb on my skin from the slam dancing bruises and one in the pit of my stomach because I wasn't ready for Vic to leave yet. I just wanted him to stay for maybe an hour so I could get to know his lips a little better. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was my first kiss with someone I wanted to touch. And it's not like I was completely smitten with him at that point. I liked him, yeah, but I really just wanted to kiss him until I knew how to stir up noises in his throat.

I know his lips pretty well now, but somehow, it's not quite enough. Each time we meet, I crave for him to stay more and more. I hate that I'm so clingy, but hell, Vic is blatantly addicting. And I don't get the impression that he really minds; in fact, last time, he kept pulling away and then kissing me and then pulling away and then kissing me until Will and Mike were screaming his name along with a few choice profanities and he had to go for real.

So him leaving sucks for both of us, but it works to my benefit in a way. We meet whenever we can since saying goodbye is so hard. And the hellos are really, really nice.