Chapter 12: Just a fling?

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The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, except for lunch. I actually had two people approach me about commissions! I'm happy that going to the party wasn't a total waste. Though, it wasn't a real waste in general I guess... but I prefer to imagine and pretend that it was.
Over all, for acrylic on canvas, I'm getting around 75 dollars for both commissions!! They said they would pay me as soon as possible, and I told them I couldn't work on it until I got the money. People in clone high aren't just famous writers or presidents, but also scammers and criminals.
     This time when I walked through the white-painted wooden door of my house, the first thing I did was hug mom and tell her all about it.
     "I'm so proud of you, baby." She smiled at me, kissing my forehead. Mom told me dinner would be ready soon, and I told her I couldn't wait. I ran upstairs and started sketching ideas immediately.
     One of the commissioners, Mary Shelly, wanted me to paint Frankensteins Monster. A bit late for Halloween, but considering who her clone mother is, I shouldn't be too surprised. She told me she wanted me to take as many artistic liberties while still staying true to the design, which of course, I agreed to.
     The second commissioner, a clone of Benjamin Franklin, asked for a landscape of a rural hillside. I can do that!
     As I'm thumb nailing my ideas, a wave of loneliness flows over me. For a moment I feel like I'm drowning, and every ounce of motivation I've previously been privy to has died with it. Something occurs to me- Johns sweater. He said I could keep it, but, it feels kind of... dirty of me to have his clothes just sitting here, in my room.
     That doesn't change my course, as I'm already stepping closer, opening the folding doors and picking the red and white striped jumper off the clean floor. I sit on my bed with it, holding the soft polyester fabric in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over the threads.
     It gives me mixed feelings. Part of me feels- feels warm- feels loved. The rest feels even lonelier. In fact, I feel worse than I did just moments before.
     My phone rings. I'm not used to getting calls- no one ever calls me. The ringtone is still in its factory setting. I pull the device from my pocket and see Johns contact, with the stupid little default profile picture. Why would he be calling me?
     I'm hesitant to answer, letting it ring a couple more times before hitting accept. I sign into the phone.
     "Hello?"
"Hey, Vince~!"
     Yuck. "Yes, Kennedy?" I say with exasperation clear in my voice.
     He takes a deep breath through his teeth. "Say that again."
     My brows knit together, my face- no, my entire body jumps 50 degrees and suddenly I can't sit right. "Excuse me?!"
"Ah come on, it sounds so nice when you say my name~."
     My eyes can't get any wider. "Gross, John! You're not getting off on my voice!"
"Well why not?"
     "Do you treat all of your flings this way?!" It sounded a lot meaner than it should have.
     There's a moment of silence over the phone. I decide to break it for him.
     "Look, Ken- John, I'm not interested in- helping you with that, okay? Actually, I'm not sure how much longer I want to just be someone for you to experiment with."
"...Whaddya mean?"
     "Look, take me out to dinner or something, okay? Unless you're gonna be serious, then just- just fuck off, alright?"
      I hang up before he even has a chance to speak. I toss the phone into my bed, and already I can hear the ringtone buzzing through its speakers again. Seething through my teeth, I crawl over, Johns jumper falling out of my lap in the process, and turn the damn thing off.
     I feel.. gross. For a lot of reasons. Partially because I let this man kiss me, leave his mark on me, even when he wants nothing to do with me, and yet... I want him to do it again.
     A+ for me though. Joan would be proud of me for sticking up for myself. Picking up his sweater again, I wonder if I should have been nicer about it...

~*~

I'm in the locker room, getting changed. This morning I spent a good 30 minutes looking at YouTube makeup tutorials and even specifically how to hide hickies. I only searched that once tho, before frivolously clearing my search history. God I'm such a nerd.
I snuck into my moms bathroom for hairspray to try and set it, to make sure that it stays. The only good thing about this is that the marks themselves are starting to lighten up.
So now it's 3rd period, gym class. The makeup is still holding up, I think as I watch myself in the bathroom mirror. Mrs. Roosevelt blows the whistle, and I can hear kids starting to run, which means I'm already missing out on class time.

Not enough, in my opinion. If I could sit out of gym, I would, but the schools policy is that if you have two legs and two arms, you can participate in physical education. I've considered becoming an amputee more than once.
Everyone is present, even John. I can't help but watch him run for a little bit.
"Get moving, Gogh!" The teacher shouts, practically blowing off my good ear. My feet shift and I start to move into a paced jog.

The rest of gym was just as unbearable. Every now and then John and I would make contact, so often in fact, that his friends started whispering, elbowing his arm with enjoyment on their lips.
Something tells me that maybe John regrets meeting me as much as I regret meeting him.
Something else tells me that I don't really regret it. I spent all last night holding onto his stupid sweater, wishing I hadn't yelled at him.

     Even lunch was awful. I couldn't eat a thing, and not even the transaction of about 150 dollars in total from my commissioners didn't lift my spirits. I found everything turning to slow motion. As I tried to investigate my own thoughts, to come to a conclusion as to why, it always resulted in John. Me, thinking about John, in any way, would leave me dead in my tracks.
     Even in history, the final period of the day, I couldn't distract myself from him

~*~

     The first thing I bought with my 150 dollars was a new stick of lip balm. Burtz Bees vanilla chapstick. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I knew why I was buying it. It was some way of reconciling with myself, like I was giving my consciousness a peace offering for being so mean to Kennedy.
     I think the reason I'm so down about this, is that I know he's not gonna talk to me anymore. John isn't the kind of person to take someone, or anyone out on dates, and especially not lanky art boys with little to no experience in what he's best at. Sports, politics, and sex.

     As I'm leaving the gas station, I notice Cleo and Helen of Troy sitting on a bench, not too far away, but far enough to where I can't hear a thing they're talking about.
     The only reason I'm even interested is because Cleo is.. crying. I find myself coming closer, and suddenly I can hear the conversation between the two do them.
     "He's never broken up with me before! I'm always the one to break up with him!"
     "The nerve of some men."
     Oh. Yeah, I certainly don't want to be a part of this. Shoving the vanilla chapstick into my back pocket, I make a 180 and dash my way home- at least, I dash far enough to where they're both out of my sight. I'm still getting better at running, but I'm not that good.

     Busting through the front door, and interrupting moms TV time, I practically collapse from emotional exhaustion.
     "What's wrong baby?"
     "Uh, got chased by a dog."
     "Damn, I told them to take care of that stray problem."
     Yeah, there a handful of strays here. Nobody wants to take any of them in, so they're just kind of running rampant. The only dog I'm being chased by is my own thoughts. I go up the stairs to my bedroom and dial Joans number.
     "Teen Crisis Hotline- fuck."
     "Been working recently?"
     "Yeah, it's a force of habit now."
     I take a deep breath. "Hey, did you hear about Cleo?" I'm not used to gossiping.
    "Yeah, the whole towns talking about it right now, why?"
     Just then, I get a text. I put Joan on speaker and look at my messages.

Stupid Jock, 4:34 PM
            Hey, wanna see a movie some time?

     "Uh. No reason."

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