6

My friends and I do hang out in a little corner like i described... Its called 'The Corner'. You can just feel the brains activley moving, can't you? :3

 Things after that night were much different between Nate and I. Like every time he’d ‘bump’ into us at the bookstore, instead of freezing him out, I would give him a smile and let him help me with whatever I was doing that day. Gabby didn’t come with me anymore, for once my mother took care of her during the day. And after I was done with my volunteering, sometimes he’s come over. Not for Gabby, for me.

I still hated, though, how my parents and Mitch would call him by boyfriend. Its as if they didn’t have their own lives to worry about. We were growing closer together, but as friends…

I was with him one afternoon on the outside patio when the subject came up. We planned to meet each other then, just to hang out for a while, and he showed up wearing the 7-Up shirt that Adam used to wear. I sneered at it, again, as I did so at the party.

        “I really hate that shirt…” I said under my breath.

He looked down at his own chest.  

       “Man… way to be honest about it.”

        “Sorry, just that…” Not finishing that sentence.  

       “Just that what?” But I knew he’d ask me anyway. I looked up at him, and decided weather or not I wanted to tell him. I only talked about it with my friends, my true friends that is.

        “Ehm, my ex had the same shirt.” Should I go further?

        “A*s hole?” He asked like he knew.

I didn’t answer him, but instead looked at him with tired eyes, exclaiming, Oh yes. I wanted to tell him, which was a weird feeling I have yet to endure. He was here, right now and had the time to listen to me, and lord knows the patience to listen to me, so, why not?

I went into the story about my sophomore year, the year that I had met Adam. He was a year older than me, and in my photography class. He was considered one of those ‘popular jocks’ if you had to categorize him. Even though I knew I wasn’t like him at all, and he had the large reputation of being truly a jerk, there was always something in me that was really interested in him. He was very nice looking, all the girls thought so. And that especially meant I wouldn’t have a chance with him, so I thought. And plus, I was not in the ‘in’ crowd in the tenth grade. Don’t get me wrong, I had my handful of friends and we certainly weren’t at the bottom of the food chain. I’d say around the high middle.

Everyday in photography we’d sit in that stuffy cold room and listen to Mrs. Calluhn talk us to death about exposure and developing. Reminding us what we already well knew. Adam would sit at the table across from me. He didn’t know me, until we got partnered together for a project. Apart of me was happy I got partnered with him, what with the itching curiosity about him, but the other side nervous that he turned out to be a dud and very boring. We were in the dark room where he was carelessly handling the film in his hands. We wasn’t so much of a dud, he was funny and outgoing to me. I told him to be careful with the film, and it shouldn’t be touched so much, but he wasn’t paying attention.

        “You’re cute.” He said.

He had me then. I never had my guard on in those days, I’d just let random jocks tell me that I was cute, then ask me out, and become my boyfriend. My friends kept telling me that going out with him wasn’t a good idea, and I shouldn’t get sucked into the crowd he’s with. I took it into consideration for a while, but never really followed through.

I would hang out with him almost everyday, and soon, the popular kids became my friends. It was true that some of them were very superficial, shallow, and much to honest to your face, but some of them were actually more like Deb. Like Camille, who I became the most close with. I never knew her before, just things I’d hear or when I’d see her standing out waiting for her bus in the afternoon. She was apart of that crowd of girls that you would see in the hallways with the giggling girls with the flat stomachs and the perfect hair. When I would walk with them, I almost felt like one of them. I almost felt superior to the rest of the world, and that I could do anything I wanted.

The funny thing was, I actually trusted Adam. I would say that was one of the biggest mistakes I have made. I should have known by the way he acted around me near his friends, like I was indifferent, just his arm accessory. Or when he’d half look at me when I was talking to him. Or when I told him I loved him for the first time, he said “Me too”.

He invited me to the end of the year blow out, where everybody was there. And by everybody, meaning the popular kids. It was just what I had expected it to be. Loud music. Hot as hell inside. Big red cups I was smart enough to know it wasn’t grape juice inside. I might have almost been one of them, but this still wasn’t my thing. I told Adam I wanted to leave, after a brutal fight started in the kitchen between two guys about some girl. He kept saying, “Soon, I promise…”

But there I was, an hour or so later, sitting on the smelly and crowded couch waiting to go home. The party changed a lot of things. I realized that my friends were right about Adam, when I couldn’t get his attention to save my life, or when I’d try to hold his hand and he would jerk it away. I didn’t need him to walk back to my house. It was far away, not considerably walking distance, but it was far better than staying at this stupid party. When I got up to leave, I finally caught his attention. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back.         “Where are you going?” He said, slurring a bit.

        “Sorry Adam, I’m leaving.” I whipped my hand away.

        “At least let me give you a ride.” He fumbled in his pockets for his keys.

        “No way. You had a bit too much to drink. If I felt like dying tonight I’d step in front of a car when I walk home.” I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arm again.

        “I said stay.”

        “No, I’m done. With this party, and with you.”

I broke it off then, a few people were watching, and he was furious. Like he even really liked me. I walked until I found a pay phone, finding loose change near the bottom of my purse. I called my house and asked my mom to pick me up, expecting her to be furious too. She wasn’t. She actually said that what I did was very responsible. Responsible? Me?

I thought that it was over between Adam and I. That we’d ignore each other the next school year like we were supposed to. But again, I was wrong. The first day back had this whole new vibe that I wasn’t very used to. it felt like all eyes weren’t on me, like they were trying to look away. I was walking through the hallways, feeling like scum when I met up with Camille. It was so nice to see a familiar face. She gave me the nastiest look, and walked away. She had become like, my best friend and she could just dump me like that? And over what, exactly? I didn’t take freezing out as an answer and cornered her in the bathroom after lunch that day.         “What’s the deal?” She wouldn’t look me in the face.

        “You b***h.” She spat.

        “Camille, I don’t know what you’re talking about, will you please tell me?”

She crossed her arms. “Adam told me what happened at the party in the summer.”  

       “So? I broke up with him. Big deal.” Apparently I still didn’t get it.

        “Don’t play stupid with me.”  

       “I’m not, I swear! Whatever Adam said was a lie, he was just upset I ended it.”

        “Oh please. Who could be upset over that?”

I wanted to slap her in the face, but she was my friend, somewhere in there.  

       “What did he tell you?” I yelled, even though there were three other girls in the bathroom.

        “The whole damn school knows how you slept with my boyfriend.”

That’s what was going around about me? That’s how the whole school sees me? Even the people who never got the chance to know me, who haven’t even have the slightest preference on me, tagged me as a s**t? I stood there for a bit, giving her terrified eyes. Adam had the power to do this to me, how could I be so stupid? And Camille’s old boyfriend was Adams best friend, they were in it together. Why would they waste so much energy on making me miserable?

By the long look I gave Camille, she knew it was a lie. She knew that I would never hurt her like Adam said I would. She gave me a swaying hug, and patted me on my back. Someone on my side. 1 for Liz, 943 against. Could I snag an extra 17 or so out of my old friends? How could they forgive me? I hated myself. I still do.

Camille came with me that one day I went to my friends, holding my hand. We walked into the small hallway where we would usually hand out in the mornings before the bell rang. Seeing them sitting there, playfully jerking around with each other was emotional. I never cry in front of people, except for close family, but then and there, I felt the sharp prickles in my nose, and the hotness in my ears, and my eyes swelling up. I was so surprised, that at the site of me, Liz Shay, crying in front of her friends made some of them cry right back.

It was almost a happy ending, with all my old friends back, and even Camille to join us, except for the cigarette burn in my stomach of what Adam did; turning the school against me, and my friends turned to enemies. The feeling never went away, and neither did the rumor. It did eventually die down, as old news, but still it hurt. Like the sick feeling of getting hacked, or getting robbed.

I told my story to Nate, ad he listened for once, instead of interjecting with numerous questions. I still felt awkward telling him this, but I had to do it, I felt. I stopped.

He put his hand on mine, and said, “You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

        “No.” I said. “I’m a terrible person.”

I didn’t dare look up at him. Instead, he came much closer, kissed me on my face, and held me.

        “No your not...”

He held me really tight, not just to comfort me, because he wanted to. I wanted to.

My head rested on his shoulder, which was hugging the green shirt. I suddenly didn’t hate it. In fact, right now I loved it. It was on him, which made all the difference. He let go, but not completely. He still held my hands, my fingers intertwined with his. Our foreheads were touching, our noses, our lips. We were kissing, and nobody was watching. Gabby wasn’t a few steps away calling ‘Natie’ and climbing into my lap, Deb wasn’t hiding around the corner of her house, peeing her pants watching this, nobody was watching.

Sometimes, no eyes on you is cold and lonely. But right now, its just fine.