Chapter 1: Youth
"Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old."- Franz Kafka
"20 questions," a small voice chanted from the oval-like form of friends.
"No way. That's what we played last time," another one added on.
"And the last time, and the last time…"
A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd, as if it was a cheesy sitcom show. A single blush of cherry red traced the soft lining of the young boy's cheeks.
"I- It's a good game," he stuttered out again.
As if trying to salvage what little explanation you had left would somehow mend an understanding between the group? No, it never did. It never will.
A pale hand had approached the blushing boy and enveloped him into a warm hug.
"Aw, it's okay Trent. You don't have to be embarrassed," she chuckled. Her soft black bob had bounced in the process of an assuring nod. Dark innocent eyes sparkled to compliment the glare of the sun.
"I-I'm not," he squeaked.
His bold green gaze began to trace the chalk stained sidewalks of the elementary, begging for someone to change the subject just for a second- so that he could escape.
"Sure Green, sure." A new voice entered the dialogue in a sarcastic tone. High, squeaky and immature: a girl no doubt. Her raven colored hair was done up neatly into two pigtails. She reached over to her purple polka-dot backpack, refilling it with an assortment of crayons, markers and chalk- swiftly zipping it up shortly afterwards and slinging a single strap on her left shoulder.
"I have to go guys, my mom and I are going shopping before the mall closes down today."
The raven-haired girl locked eyes with the enthusiastic bob, and smiled.
"You're still going to be at my party, right Gwen?"
Gwen softly bit her lip and held her gaze within Heather's, a feeling of guilt coming about her.
"I haven't asked my mom yet," she sighed.
Heather's smile slowly faltered with every passing word. She could see her pale reflection in the other girl's eyes, and scolded herself for being so transparent.
"Oh, tell me when you do, okay?"
A hesitation. The slightest sign of doubt.
"Yeah, I'll make sure of it."
A smile.
"Hey Heather, why didn't you invite Trent and I to your party?" a rough agitated voice mutters.
Beep. Beep.
Her mother pulls over to the side of the road, the same spot that she meets her daughter in everyday. A blue Honda, with exactly two scratches near the left headlight. That's how the kids would identify it. The 'Chang' mobile as Trent had once called it as a joke. But ever since, the name had just stuck.
She lets out a small smile to the blue-eyed boy.
"Because, Duncan, it's an all girls party. Meaning no boys aloud. Besides, don't think I forgot what happened when I invited you over for my last birthday."
Beep.
"How was I supposed to know the crayons would melt into the cake?"
The pitch of his voice heightened dramatically, and the blush on his cheeks reddened against his complexion.
"Whatever," she let out a snort before standing up, brushing off her cotton skirt in the process.
The girl walks with confidence; anywhere she goes for that matter. Even when it was just entering her mother's car- Heather could cause a whole stampede to stop and stare.
Gwen watched her carefully as she entered the vehicle. Her mother embraced her for a moment and planted a soft kiss on her head. She quickly adverted her gaze downwards towards the concrete ground, pupils focusing on a singular red Crayola crayon.
Gwen let out a tiny gasp.
"Heather, you forgot your-"
But the two had already zoomed across the road.
"-crayon."
She focused on the red piece of wax before her. Heather had never left her stuff behind- anywhere. She was never the forgetful type, especially with her favorite colored crayon. She found that there was something embarrassing about having to turn back, and explain herself for her error. 'Never look back' she would say, 'ever.'
"Let me see that," the rough voice demanded again, snatching the crayon from Gwen's petite hands.
"Duncan! Give that back. " she squealed.
The blue-eyed boy chuckled at the strain in her voice.
"And what if I don't, sunshine?"
Gwen's skin began to crawl. Sunshine. She hated that name.
"Come on, Duncan. Just give it back," Trent shyly murmured.
"It's Heather's," Gwen added on, "She needs it."
"Oh yeah?" A smirk played upon his lips.
"If she really needs it so much, why did she leave it here?"
Gwen ferociously blushed at his words.
"It was just a mistake. Of course she needs it. She- she'll always need it."
Gwen quickly snatched the crayon from his grip and stuffed it into her coat pocket.
"Jerk," she mumbled, crossing her arms in the process.
There was a deep silence between the three children. Gwen locked her eyes on the swing set in the back, while Duncan drilled both eyes through the back of her head. Trent's head darted between the two, wondering who would make the next attack.
"Oh come on Gwen, you know I was just playin' right?" Duncan whispered.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She knew, he knew, even Trent knew that Gwen could never stay mad at Duncan even for a measly five minutes. In fact, she could never stay mad at any one of her three close friends. Because what really is anger? A feeling of annoyance... displeasure... hostility? They would have plenty of time to be angry when they got older. But for now? It wasn't worth it.
"Yeah…" she uttered, her eyes still locked on a swaying yellow swing.
"Good."
Click. Click. Click.
The violent sound had alerted the trio to turn in the direction of the sound. Heels. More specifically Mrs. Carter's heels.
All three watched the woman intensely as she made her way over to the group. Her light blonde hair complimented the setting sun and her bright blue eyes had bore holes in the hearts of many before.
"Duncan, are you ready to go?"
Duncan offers a subtle nod to his mother and packs up his black and green-checkered backpack. He stands up and carries his weight on a pair of stubby legs, going to face his mom.
She whispers something into his ear as she loving ruffles his hair. A single nod was given in response before the pair turns to the other two kids on the concrete.
"You know, it's getting kind of late. Do you need a ride home Trent?"
The boy's eyes widen at the question.
"No thank you. My dad just got off late from work. He's on his way."
Mrs. Carter gave him a warm smile.
"How about you Gwen?"
The world around her froze for a split millisecond and a sense of deja vu corrupted her state of mind.
"Uh, no thank you. My mom will be here soon."
Mrs. Carter's smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, attempting to look more genuine but only ended up looking more and more fake by the second.
She didn't even know why she bothered. Sometimes Trent would accept the occasional offer, but Gwen? No. There was wall built around her. She was always the first to come, and the last to leave. Duncan's mom could never understand her. Usually her son's friends would open up to her, come over, maybe have a cookie or two. But her? No matter how much the woman had tried, she wouldn't budge an inch.
"Ok kids. Well, have a nice day. Duncan say bye to your friends."
"See you tomorrow," he uttered. His worn out converse spun on around on its platforms and turned away with his mother's black heels.
Of course. He was never good at goodbyes.
Another awkward silence evaded the atmosphere, and the two remaining children were left alone.
"Umm," The boy blushed. "Did you pick a partner for Ms. Baker's project yet?"
Silence.
"Gwen?"
"Oh, sorry," she nervously mumbled, regaining herself from her thoughts. Her knees had become black from kneeling on the bare concrete. Brushing off the dust, the girl crossed her small legs in front of him in a criss-cross-applesauce position.
"Hey, did you still want to play 20 questions?" she urged on.
Trent's bright green eyes brightened at her suggestion. The boy nodded his head vigorously.
"Ok, I think it was your turn."
She smiles.
"Alright, hm…. I have one."
"Ok," she smiles back, and contently closes her eyes thinking of her object.
"Question #1…"
Beep.
Gwen's eyes shoot open in shock, appalled by what had just come out of the seven-year old's mouth.
"W-what?" a blush began to form on her cheeks.
"I didn't say anything," Trent replied.
Beep.
Trent's dad. He would always wait for him at the intersection of Marcy St. and Hooper Ave. Right there at the local vandalized stop sign.
"I, um, have to go Gwen."
Gwen, still in shock, gave a shy smile to the boy as the sun began to set behind her frame. It was beautiful; at least to Gwen it was. There was always something refreshing and new about sunsets that interested her. 'The sun was going to sleep,' her mom would say. And something new was waking from its slumber. The moon. Of course Gwen knew that the moon was always there- faintly behind the clouds. In the background. It's an outsider, just like Gwen. When the sun set, it was the moon's time to shine. Beautiful. Even more beautiful than the sun. Yet it came out when no one was there to see it.
"Gwen?"
The girl took a few remaining seconds to stare at the natural satellite. She would have to draw it when she got home.
"Bye Trent," she said absorbing his green orbs.
"Um..." he started again.
"Yes?"
A tan hand shot to the back of his neck and he started to tap his left foot, vigorously as he always did when he was nervous.
"Are- Are you sure you don't need a ride? I mean, I can ask my dad, and it looks like it's about to rain, and-"
Cut off. Gwen shook her head.
"I told you, it's fine. My mom's coming."
She gave him a smile. A smile almost identical to the one that Mrs. Carter had given to her. There was something in those kinds of smiles. It's is the kind of smile you use when your grandma Angie buys you a big 'ol ugly sweater for Christmas, and you tell her that you love it- or better yet, it's is the kind of smile reserved for when the waiter comes around to your table and you tell him the food is great, when you know it couldn't have been any worse. It's is the smile of lies. The two both knew it. She knew that he knew, and he knew that she knew. But, they pretended to be oblivious little kids as they were expected to. They pretended not to know.
"Ok."
Trent had entered his father's car, and the two had drove down the street.
A single drop of rain. Looks like the moon would have to be drawn another day.
Gwen collected her books off of the concrete floor, and stuffed them messily into her midnight blue backpack. Hopefully if it wasn't too much of a bother, her mother could read her 'The Little Engine that Could.'
The black-bobbed girl plucked the book-bag off of the ground and checked her surroundings, making sure that none of the teachers or even Trent for that matter decided to linger around.
Two violent drops of rain pounded down on her head, and more soon followed.
Sighing, the girl pulled up her black hood of her coat. After checking that her bag was zipped up, she was off down the road with each step, lugging a single red crayon in her pocket for safe keeping.
"What do you think honey?"
Heather was never the expert at expressing how she felt.
The dress was big, loud and pink. The very presence of it almost distracted her from the question at hand. What did she think? She would say that it was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen in her life, of course. At least that's what her mother wanted to hear. But, no. What did she really think?
"It's... I love it mom."
Her mother's smile brightened at her daughter's words.
"Oh I just knew it. I told your father that the dress was totally you. But, no... he didn't listen."
Mrs. Chang let out a heavy string of laughter. Heather smiled, maybe not directly to her, but to the dress. This was it. If she could just put this on, wear a smile for the day, and act like her birthday actually meant something- she'd be set. Her mother would be happy, just as she deserved to be.
"Is there a problem baby?"
Mrs. Chang's smile disappeared. No, she had to put it back on. The older woman squatted down to the younger one's level to meet her eye to eye. Oh, it was like looking in the mirror. Heather was the spitting image of her mother: the soft raven-colored hair, the bold grey eyes, the plump ruby red lips. Heather wouldn't even be surprised that if when she got older, she would grow up to look exactly like her. She was beautiful, poised, confident. Who wouldn't want to be her?
"No, no, I love the dress," Heather said.
Mrs. Chang's smile returned to her flattering features. There it is again.
"Great. I think the pink really brings out your gorgeous eyes," her mother complimented.
As the woman stood up once again, Heather couldn't help but have that reoccurring thought that she had smelt a little bit of alcohol on her breath. She had had that feeling another time last week, when Heather fell on her knee, and her mother was talking to her as she bandaged the wound.
'You have to be more careful,' she had said, and a foul taste had entered her mouth. A taste so familiar that she tasted before at one of her parents' adult parties, when she had accidentally picked up a cup so innocently mistaken for grape juice.
"Ok, so all we have to do now is ring it up and then we're off. Change back into your clothes while mommy goes to buy your pretty dress for you."
Her mother planted a kiss on her cheek. Heather felt a shiver pass down her spine, as her mother's kisses had currently began to make her feel less comforted. Nowadays all she's been feeling is disgust, and she didn't like it.
"Mom," Heather mumbled.
The woman already had one foot out the changing room door.
"Yes sweetie?"
"I love you."
Their eyes met in a spontaneous burst of compassion, and Heather could see that hopeful glimmer in her mother's eyes.
"I love you too."
Heather was left to quickly change back into her clothes: a pleated dark purple skirt, with a plain white V-neck under a purple cardigan.
She stopped to look at herself in the bright long mirror that the changing rooms had provided and sighed.
Somehow, she didn't like what she saw. She felt uncomfortable, and unwelcome when she looked at herself in the mirror. It's as if something was intentionally dissatisfying her to the point that she would feel this way.
Tomorrow was her big party. She was finally turning seven, being the youngest in her small group of friends. As Duncan had teased her about before, she would no longer be known as the short-stack on the pancake menu anymore. She was older, more mature, and she could finally rub it in his face tomorrow... if she had invited him to the party.
The truth is, the only people that she really wanted to come were Trent, Duncan, and Gwen. But since her mother was in charge of the guest list this year, she found that it was appropriate to only invite her girl friends. Mrs. Change found it unusual that Heather had chosen to spend so much time, as she had with those two boys. Girls her age were supposed to think all boys had some kind of disease or something of the sort. But Heather was content to call them her friends.
Mrs. Chang would hear the other mothers talking about Heather, and how different she was from the others. They said only ugly girls would make boys as friends, because they were the only ones who would accept them. But no, Heather was pretty- beautiful at that. So why would she act this way?
Mrs. Chang had allowed her 'unusual friend' Gwen to come, but Heather wasn't even too sure that she wanted to come. Gwen had been acting different; not only to her but to everyone: Trent, Duncan, the teachers. But Heather failed to question it.
If Gwen wasn't there then the only people who would come to her party were her mom and dad's fake friends who acted like they really cared for Heather's age- and distant cousins, aunts, and uncles of which she never even met before.
She would probably be cutting the cake alone this year. Again.
"Heather Feather, are you ready to go?" She heard her father's voice call out to her from the depths of the store.
Sighing at the mirror once again, she let out a soft whimper, "Coming!" and escaped from the cruel judgement of her reflection.
A/N: So, as you can see I'm back from my long hiatus with a new story. To give you a little insight, this is basically going to be a coming of age story of a group of 8 friends. Four have already been introduced, and there are four more to come of whom will be periodically introduced as I see fit. This is definitely going to be something different from what I usually write (concept wise, pairing wise, etc.), and since I already have the whole story mapped out from beginning to end, I plan to update a lot more frequently than I have in the past. So... Review please if you enjoyed and/or want me to continue. And thank you for reading. :)