We passed through the throng of tourists and the few locals that dared to mingle with the loud, haughty intruders that invaded the usually quiet streets. Gord led me to a table outside of the hotel and I sat across from him, leaning my arms on the incredibly hot metal rim around the edge of the glass table, a decision I regretted immediately.
It was as hot outside as the metal that burned my skin, and I tugged at the seam of my shirt, peeling the fabric off of my skin. I regretted wearing jeans, and wondered how Gord was surviving in those heavy slacks of his.
I didn't bother to question it and sat in silence—or as quiet as it would get with all of the people around us. His eyes drifted to the crowd occupying the square, he seemed to be searching for something, someone, and I waved my hand in front of his face. Gord blinked a few times and stared at me questioningly.
"What're you staring out into space for?"
He shrugged. "I thought I saw Hopkins. I had a favor to ask of him."
My lip curled back in disgust. I had heard of the boy, and met him a few times, though our encounters were always brief and rarely memorable. The squinty eyed boy was a mean son of a bitch, or at least he was in my presence, and I didn't like him. I didn't like anyone who gave unwarranted attitude. Though, that seemed to be a thing around here; everyone was always in a pissy mood.
"Anyway," he continued, "what's got your spirits down? It's too nice a day to be in a bad mood."
"I got accepted into Bullworth," I said flatly, slumping over the table. I rested my chin on my forearms and stared up at Gord. "I don't want to go there."
"Bullworth isn't the greatest place in the world, I'll be the first to admit that, but it's not so bad. Besides, you'd get to see me every day," he winked.
I couldn't help but smile. "The only upside to going there."
"It had better be," he laughed. "Now, why don't you want to go?"
Gord was my friend. He had been for the last year and a half. The two of us had met after things had begun to settle down at the academy. The events that took place were known to everyone in town, even the freaks and degenerates that worked at the carnival had heard about the chaos. My knowledge of the goings on had been a little more extensive than most townsfolk, though. And because of my knowledge, I wasn't prepared to go to that school. Only, he didn't know that. As good of friends as we are, there were still things I hadn't told him. And probably wouldn't.
I had always been honest with him. For the most part, ever since I had met him.
We had met one morning—a Saturday, if I remember correctly—during the early spring. It was cold still, and a light coating of snow dusted the streets. I was in Aquaberry searching for a decent blazer to wear for a function my family had been invited to. Aquaberry had been a last resort. I had detested the Vale then, filled with snobby, entitled teens and adults, so I trekked from my home to Bullworth Town. It had proved to be a useless trip, for everything in the clothing store there was either used and ragged or much too tight for my body. I was tall, just over six feet, and had broad shoulders. My body was lean and toned, and hard to find fitting clothes for.
Gord had sauntered over, eyeing me with a suggestive smirk on his face, spewing pick-up lines that I found more humorous than anything, but happily shot back equally provocative words of my own.
And that was the first of many encounters we had, eventually becoming friends and spending time together when he could squeeze me into his schedule. Much to the dismay of his friends. I wasn't poor by any means, quite wealthy in fact, but my appearance didn't show that. I wasn't clad head to toe in Aquaberry, nor did I speak with a faux British accent, or walk with a pretentious air about me.
No, I looked like a punk from New Coventry. The only thing that granted me a great amount of attention from both sexes was my looks. And despite that, the preps he surrounded himself with were displeased that Gord continued to spend time with me, given the pressure from his friends wasn't too extreme.
"I just don't want to go," I answered finally. "I've already seen most of the students in town, and they all look like assholes. I don't want to spend a year in a dorm room with a group of said assholes."
"You could always live at home," he said. "That would lessen the pain of having to attend Bullworth. Or," he leaned across the table, "I could see if Derby would consider lending you a room…or you could share one with me."
"I'm afraid neither of us would get any sleep if that were to happen," I said suggestively.
Gord grinned. "And I believe that would be the only time I'd be happy about being exhausted."
"I couldn't agree more."
Gord and I had hooked up on many occasions, but nothing had ever come of it, a fact I'm not entirely sure I am content with or disappointed by. I liked Gord; he was attractive, and a great friend when he wasn't being prissy. I doubted anything would happen between us, seeing as he still valued his reputation and feared being cast out from the group. I hated that about him, and sometimes wished he would change, but it'd be hypocritical on my part. There were plenty of things about myself I'm sure he wished was different.
Gord stared at me, seeming lost in thought, a slight smile playing on his thin lips. I watched him curiously, wondering what he was thinking about, and drummed my fingers on the table absently.
"Those errands you mentioned before…what did you have to do?"
I nodded my head in the direction of the clothing store behind him. "I have to get a few things in there."
"Perfect. A little retail therapy should brighten that mood of yours," his fingers wrapped around my wrist, and he pulled me from my seat and into Aquaberry. Gord turned his head toward me. "I was looking for an excuse to come in here, so thank you for being in a bad mood, Mason."
I snorted. "You're welcome. I'm glad one of us is benefiting from my misery."
. . .
A half hour had passed of Gord dragging me around the small store, holding clothes up to my body, using me like a human mannequin. He seemed to be having a lot of fun doing so, and I was amused at the almost child-like excitement he displayed each time he found something new, or something that would look good on me.
I had to admit, it was cute in a way.
"Here, go try these on," Gord handed me a pair of light grey slacks. "If you need help, I'd be happy to aid in undressing you."
I laughed and shook my head, disappearing behind the curtain. I unzipped my jeans and stepped out of them, tripping over myself as I realized I'd forgotten to take my shoes off. I kicked them off and tugged on the pants, then proceeded to turn every which way, seeing how I looked in them.
"Well hello there," Gord said from behind me. I turned to see him nodding approvingly. "They look good on you, Luna, snug in all the right places, too," he added.
"Guess I'll get them then," I said and began taking them off. Gord remained in his spot. "Do you mind?"
"No, I don't. Continue," he joked.
I gestured for him to leave and froze momentarily at the sound of multiple voices calling for Gord. Some of them I hadn't recognized and briefly wondered if a fight was about to erupt in the small space. The curtain fell back into place and I put my shoes and jeans back on, carefully folding the pants Gord had given me. I peeked out from behind the heavy cloth.
At least six preps crowded near the entrance, Gord in the center of the group. Their voices were hushed, and I couldn't tell what they were talking about, but judging by the way they motioned their hands, the harsh sound of their voices, it was clear they were pissed. I stepped out from the dressing room and continued shopping, trying my best not to blatantly watch what was going on.
The bell rang, signaling the door had opened, and out went the preps, taking my friend with them. I frowned and after a moment, returned my attention to the racks of clothes.
I piled the items onto the counter, greeting the cashier with the friendliest smile I could manage.
"Will that be all?"
"No, I'd like to buy these," I answered jokingly.
He smiled. "I'm glad."
The man rang up the items, placing them gently into bags marked with the store's logo, and read me the price. I handed over the credit card my mother had lent me and after signing the receipt, left, walking out into the stifling summer heat.
I leaned against the storefront, curious as to what was going on with Gord, and decided it was none of my business. I didn't care much for prep drama, and knew that if it was anything bad, Gord was sure to spill his guts sooner or later.
In the meantime, I needed to get my hair cut.
