A Better Place

Part One of what inspired me randomly in class. Experimenting with prose again, I seemed to have slipped off with poetry. I'm thinking this might be long. Be tender with the reviews, please :)

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How did I get here?
There really is no cure for these tears between my legs. The wind, unusually harsh, cuts through my friends' hoots and penetrates the delicate skin of my cheeks like a knife through barely defrosted chicken. It's a damn cold day for mid-May, and I wished more than anything I was at home in bed. Instead, I had about four more hours of school to tolerate.
Pulling up the collar of my jacket, I huddle close against Drew's black-with-ink bare arm and he reaches up to curl it protectively around me. He reeks of marijuana and stale whiskey. Even though it makes me uncomfortable beyond words, I lean my head against his stocky breast through his leather vest and wonder again how I got here.
It's interval now, and the cement playground is littered with classmates and dozens of other kids. There are shouts and cries invading my ears at every angle, but even so I am not listening. Across from us on the other picnic table, sit the Gay Hooray Clan...or so, that's what everyone calls them.
For some reason, I find the title a little harsh. But I also find it satisfying that each member of the "Gay Hooray Clan" takes it with pride. Joseph, the ringleader it seems and with the outrageous fluorescent pink hair, would just flick his hand anytime someone would yell "GAY HOORAY F*G", while he replied with a snarky "suck my n****e ring, s***s!". I used to laugh whenever I witnessed these moments, but apparently it was illegal; according to my boyfriend Drew and his loser friends. I decided to just go with it; it was easier that way.

Around me, Drew's arm shook as he laughed at one of Kip's jokes followed by a loud guffaw. It sliced so intrusively through my ear, that I felt a wave of irritation wash over me as I let out a heavy sigh. As usual, Drew failed to notice. I watched the Gay Hooray Clan in envy, as they conversed with each other on an easy and playful level. A few of the guys, one being Joseph, were waving their iPhones around gleefully, giggling and pointing with perfectly-painted pink nails at the screens and gasping in faux shock. One of the girls with them chuckled loudly and threw her arms around Joseph in an affectionate hug. She had chunky blonde-layered hair and a silver Monroe piercing. It glared noticeably under the May morning sun. But when she moved back to sit properly again, my eyes stayed in the same spot.

And I saw her.

She was sitting across from Joseph, with her face aimed at her lap. Beneath the wooden table I could see her fingers flying over her phone eagerly. Even though her dark past-shoulder length hair hung over her tanned face, I knew right away it was Melanie. I would recognize her anywhere, even through a sea of girls with the same skin tone and hair colour as her.
At once, my chest began to tighten and my stomach flipped up to try and soothe it. Melanie.
My ex best friend. It was just the two of us before, and I would be lying if I said I didn't feel jealous that she had become rather close with the others in her group. We were close...she was the most closest I'd ever been with anyone, let alone a girl.
At first, we had hated each other beyond words on our first year at primary school where we'd met at five years old. She would throw pencils at me to egg me on, then when I'd turn to scream at her, she'd look away; almost shyly as if she couldn't look me in the eye. Then the following year, we gradually began to talk at "play time" and before we knew it, had become inseparable. Up until last year. Having been raised as a Christian, I had no understanding of the world of homosexuality, so I didn't react too amazingly when she'd tried to kiss me last year at my seventeenth Birthday party. It was confusing and new, but exciting all at once. Naturally I tried to block it out for two reasons:
One, because of that that I mentioned earlier and with parents who did not agree with same-sex relationships.
Second, I was scared that the feeling was mutual. I kinda thought it was, because for a nanosecond I thought about reciprocating but instead I freaked out and laid my hand with panic on her chest to push her away. As much as I tried to forget, I remembered quite a lot.
I remembered the soft graze of her scented lips on mine.
I remembered the warm wet sensation of her tongue tentatively gliding my lips, her hot breath shooting out to greet my skin.
I remembered my eyes threatening to flutter closed to her kiss, and the dark beauty spot on the end of her left eyebrow.
I remembered, as I tried to push her off, that my fingers slipped -accidentally, if I may- into her cleavage line and between her hot-to-the-touch breasts. Panicking, I got up from my bed and retreated downstairs to join the party where I met Drew, Kip and the others for the first time.
The next day at school, Melanie made it publicly official that she was out of the closet. Several people sneered at her presence in retaliation and it hurt me to see that. It hurt me even more that she wouldn't even speak to me, and deliberately avoided me. After that day I never saw her again... until now.

And still, she looked gorgeous. Drew's arm around me felt much lighter than it had a few minutes ago, but maybe that's because he had already forgotten about me. Now he and Kip were swapping a bag of God-knows-what under the table with a small wad of cash. To be fair, I had forgotten about Tori sitting with us. But that's because he was always so stoned out of his mind he blocked everything and everyone out and just kinda sat back with a faraway look on his face. Only until he leaned over the table, widened his bloodshot eyes and said "Eh dude, that stuff's f****n' potent," did I notice him.
But now my own eyes were on Melanie again. I felt something rise up in my chest, and it took a few seconds to realize it was a sense of longing. I missed her.
She was still texting, but somehow she noticed I was staring and glanced up to greet my gaze. It was almost like our familiar intangible bond had connected at both ends again. When she noticed me, her familiar desert-hazel eyes lit up; only for a second, before they traveled to Drew's arm lazily wrapped around me then to Drew himself. Then with an inaudible snap, the connection was lost. She glowered slightly, furrowing her perfect eyebrows, then glanced down to her lap again.
My heart fell.

Finally, Drew noticed my tenseness. Withdrawing his arm, he ducked to meet my face.
"What's up, b***h?" he asked. Even though he meant to use that term lightly, the way we always used to joke around, I flinched at the sound of it.
"Nothing," I said sourly. "I'm just tired, that's all."
But Drew wasn't buying it. He followed my gaze to Melanie. Now she was smiling up at the girl who had hugged Joseph earlier, and the girl was holding Melanie's hand across the table!
I shouldn't have cared. I should have been happy for her. But instead, my hands tightened into fists. I knew I didn't like the look of that girl at first glance. But I relaxed when I saw that Melanie was simply being polite, while the girl was acting overly flirtatious and entwining her knobby knuckles through Melanie's art-crafted fingers as she shook her horribly-bleached blonde hair off her shoulders.
Then I turned to Drew and tried to smile, but he just stared back almost incredulously.
"I don't believe it," he said. "I thought you were over her. And anyway it's wrong, she's a lesbian."
"I am over her," I replied. But even to my own ears, my voice sounded transparent.
"Look, I know you guys were close and all..." Drew started. But then he glanced back at Melanie.
So did I. The other girl was leaning over the table to reach for her backpack, but Melanie was watching us intensely. And although her quicksand-like eyes traveled lightly over Drew, she sent me what could be a thousand messages. All I could pick up was "be careful".

Typically Drew chose that moment to pull me into him and jam his foul-tasting tongue down my throat. I writhed uncomfortably against him as he probed and poked my mouth, but he held me with such careful force that it took me more than a few seconds to wriggle loose. Next to him, Kip let out an encouraging whistle.
Scowling, I leapt off the picnic table and hiked my backpack onto my shoulder.
"What did you have to do that for?" I snapped to Drew. "You s**t-stirring'?"
But he only smirked at me, his mouth a loopy lazy line and grey eyes narrowed into a cruel glare.
"You love it, Alp," he said. "Just admit it."
When I glanced back to Melanie, she was gone and so was the girl. Only Joseph remained, watching in disbelief. He was shaking his head.


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Reviews

[Michael G.]

Good solid story. You got my attention, and held it.
Will wait patiently for the next chapter.
Nice work, Misty.