Sixteen years later . . .
"Okay, I got one! Would you rather kiss Torque, or Chunk?"
An eruption of giggles saturated the little group of girls all huddled together on a single bench, eating salads, potato chips, and swigging from cans of diet Poop cola. Passing boys gazed at the girls almost involuntarily, draw in by the exotic aura of such mysterious creatures. Zita, Jess, Sara, Mary and Gretchen were well aware of the watchful eyes, but remained oblivious to the power of their feminine charms.
"Torque, no question," said Sara firmly. "Jocks are hot as hell and I love muscular guys. Chunk's all flab." The giggles broke out again until cola spilled over the rim of Sara's can.
"I agree. Torque over Chunk any day," Zita put in, and across the table she was gratified to see both Mary and Gretchen nod in agreement.
"Agreed," said Jess, flashing her dazzling smile to a passing boy whose name she didn't know. Grinning, she dipped her little plastic spoon into her yoghurt and licked it up delicately.
Mary set down her salad fork, her eyes sparkling with gleeful malice. "Okay, I got the winner," she smirked. "Would you rather kiss . . . Keef, or Dib?"
"Ew! Gross!" Handfuls of chips were launched into Mary's face and behind the throws came bursts of laughter and disgust. Mary threw up her hands to defend herself from the attack, and she laughed in triumph at her victory.
"Keef," announced Zita, breaking through the flurry of potato chips. "I mean, he might be an even bigger fruit-cake than Elton John but he's pretty cute."
Jess licked up the final smears of yogurt from her spoon. "Yeah, I'm with Zita. Keef is quite cute." As queen bee of the group it was quite traditional for the girls to follow as Jess said; she held her chin high and tossed her flowing blond locks, shining with flecks of gold in the sunlight.
" . . . I'd rather kiss Dib."
All heads whipped around very suddenly; behind a sheen of gold Jess shot Gretchen a very dark look, only for a moment, before she softened her gaze.
"Ew, really, Gretch?!" exclaimed Sara incredulously. "I mean, I know you like the nerdy guys and all, but Dib's so gross! I mean, just look!" Her finger shot across the campus yard, all the way to the ancient oak tree where in its shadow lay Dib Membrane, scrawny Dib, his appalling skin littered with zits and acne, the sharp points of his collar bone showed beneath his skin. As normal his nose was buried in a heavy biology textbook, his eyes tracing each word and every so often he would make notes in a little black pad.
"Looks aren't all that matters, Sara," said Gretchen stubbornly. "And I've known Dib since way back in elementary. He's really kind and smart." And lonely too, Gretchen recalled. She could never remember a time in which Dib had played with another child, or even smiled with true delight, but his eyes were always soft and gentle and no matter the social status of anyone in his class, he treated all with the same kindness.
"Tcha!" Jess rolled her eyes and turned away, and with her turned Sara and Mary with the same air of disgust, gathering together at the edge of the bench to whisper and point amongst themselves, Jess's hair a golden curtain separating them from Gretchen. Gretchen sighed. She knew that her place in this group was only a reality because of the changes that had become her over the years; her enormous braces from childhood had gone as her teeth aligned perfectly, her thin locks of hair had grown out in thick waves, and her body curved in effeminate glory - and yet she still remained the outsider of the group. Just like Dib, she thought miserably.
"Hey Gretch." Zita's voice broke through to Gretchen, pulling her away from misery. "You know, if you really like Dib you should totally ask him out."
Gretchen blinked, taken aback. "Y-you really think so?"
"Of course!" Zita's short hair flared as she nodded. "You're so pretty Gretch, any guy'd be lucky to have you."
Her face aflush, Gretchen stole a glance over at Dib. Wedged between his legs was a can of Mountain Dew. Every time he drank Gretchen felt her knees shake to see the strong, yet delicate, cords of his throat contort. "B-but . . . what if he turns me down?" She stammered out.
"Then he's not worth your time," said Zita firmly, rising to her feet, and with her she grabbed at Gretchen's arm and dragged her up, ignoring her cries of protest. "Just go for it! What have you got to lose?" She shoved Gretchen in Dib's direction, and when Gretchen turned around incredulously, Zita flashed her a supportive grin.
Heart pounding like a mad thing, Gretchen stepped into the shadow of the tree but it was her friends back at the bench who noticed her brave quest before anyone else could. "You go girl!" shouted Mary, and Sara wolf whistled. It was then that Dib noticed her presence, and he looked up.
"Hello," he said, vaguely interested by his sudden company, but the smile that became his lips set Gretchen's heart fluttering upon the wind. "I'm very sorry," Dib continued, "but do I know you?"
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod he's talking to me! Even Dib's polite question did not offend Gretchen; despite all their years together in the education system Dib had rarely shown interest in any of his classmates, let alone made friends. Besides, Gretchen was far too high on delight to feel offense. "H-hi . . ." she stammered, and stole a glance behind to where her friends waited. Zita gave her a grin and a thumbs-up gesture, and that alone filled Gretchen with the courage she so desperately needed. She turned back to Dib. "I'm Gretchen. We've been in the same classes in like, elementary. I'm on the same course as you too."
Behind his glasses Dib squinted up at her; Gretchen could almost see behind his eyes where he searched for a fragment of memory of her. Quite suddenly, his expression broke into realisation. "Oh yeah! Sorry, I'm shit with putting names to faces." Dib folded the corner of his book and rose to his feet. He dwarfed Gretchen by nearly a whole foot; when Gretchen lifted her head to meet his gaze, she almost drowned within his golden eyes, pure and sweet as honey. Her heart fluttered again, bringing her higher to the point of true bliss.
"What's up? Trouble with the maths part?" Dib nodded to Gretchen's bare arm, where inked up and down the skin were a series of equations and notes that she could never remember. A dark flush of red blazed through her cheeks and for a moment she was forced to avert her gaze, lest she embarrass herself further, but as her eyes brushed towards her friends and she noticed Zita's support, a sudden thought crashed through to her. This is my chance to ask him out!
"Kinda . . . Always crap at maths me . . ." Despite the humiliation Gretchen managed to lift her head. "A-actually . . . That's kinda what I w-wanted to t-talk t'you about . . ." She took in an enormous gulp of air. " . . . I-I know that this is sudden and all, but you're like, top of the class in maths and pretty much everything, aren't you?" She barely gave Dib time to reply with a nod before she forged on, lest her courage should waver. "Well, exams are comin' up and I'm totally panicking over the maths side s-so . . . I-I was wondering i-if you . . . ifyou'dbewillingtomeetontheweekendtohelpmeout?!"
At Gretchen's back she heard her friends burst into applause but the sound was little more than a tiny buzz in her ears; all Gretchen could focus on was Dib, frowning above her. It took him a moment to process what she had just said; behind his glasses his eyes shot wide open and the shock whipped through his blood, utterly taken aback. A wave of hopelessness became Gretchen's heart.
"Oh! Um . . ." Dib shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. "Well, I'm busy most weekends with work experience at my Dad's lab, and Sunday is my homework day," he explained, draining the final dregs of hope from Gretchen. She averted her gaze, her shoulders drooping in disappointment.
"Oh, I see, it's okay, I understa-"
"But," put in Dib, "if you wanna give me your cell number I can ring you when I have some time free."
And thus the cheers of Gretchen's friends vanished altogether from her ears; nothing existed save for Dib. Her head whipped upwards, her eyes practically glowing with sheer delight. "R-really? Okay!" Gretchen tour out a sheet from her own notebook and scribbled down her number in the most elegant handwriting her shaking hands could muster. Hesaidyeshesaidyeshesaidyes!
"Cool, thanks." As Dib reached out to except Gretchen's number the top of his baggy shirt slipped down, exposing his predominant collarbone, and below that, the beginnings of faded black beneath the skin.
Gretchen beamed. "You're welcome! Hey, is that a tattoo?" She suddenly gestured to the exposed markings. Dib looked down; when he noticed it he smiled. Very sadly.
"Yeah, it is."
" . . . Can I see it?"
Dib looked up; his sad smile had disappeared. "Oh yeah, sure." He lowered the edges of his shirt further and Gretchen leaned across to examine the beautiful handiwork: two hands, but they belonged to different people and separated by a thick line of black, thus unable to touch. Below the image, a short quote was inked deep. Gretchen could not help but wonder if Dib had been drunk when he got the tattoo, because one of the hands appeared to be missing several fingers.
" . . . It's pretty," commented Gretchen, smiling. "What does the quote say?"
"'And though I may have lost my way, all paths lead straight to you. I long to be like you, lie cold in the ground like you. There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you. I'm coming for you." As Dib spoke his voice was utterly flat, devoid of all emotion and yet, through that, Gretchen got a true sense of loneliness pouring from Dib, who's eyes remained fixed on his tattoo, as if unwilling to look away. "It's a song quote," he put in.
" . . . That's really beautiful," said Gretchen softly, granting Dib her gentle smile as though she might reach through his walls of isolation, and comfort him.
"No it's not," said Dib, melancholy clinging to every word he said. He reached down and stroked the tattoo, tenderly, as if he were stroking another living creature. "It really isn't beautiful," Dib muttered, and it was then Gretchen noticed how Dib only stroked the side of the tattoo where the hand was missing two fingers.
For those who don't know, the song quote is from 'Like You' by Evanescence, so go give it a listen as it's a really beautiful song. Anyway, please review, fave and follow ;p