One or two more chapters after this one, because it really doesn't have much of a point (like most of what I write). I love writing OC stories but I'm too worried that I won't be able to please everyone or I won't evenly include the OCs et cetera. Lol.
"Mom, I'm sorry! Shit! It's not like I can leave the house, what am I supposed to do?" Marissa stepped into the kitchen with an irritated expression and her cell phone pressed to her ear. "Really. Well, I'm sorry that there's a blizzard tonight! … Yeah, fuck you too!" She snapped the device shut and swiftly lit a cigarette.
Cassidy didn't look up from her drawing (which she had covered with her arm and refused to let anybody see until she was finished), and I eyed Marissa disapprovingly.
"Aren't you supposed to like… not smoke?" I asked.
"Tell Stan to stay out of the kitchen," Marissa responded swiftly.
"Men aren't supposed to be in the kitchen," I added. Really, they aren't. That's where women belong – but that's a different rant for a different time. I could talk for hours on the subject of misogyny.
"Are Kyle's eyes green or gray?" Cassidy interrupted.
Bewildered, I replied, "Um. Green, I think."
"More of a teal color, actually." Sarah intervened.
"Whatever, I'll just use both." Cassidy decided.
Sarah, Marissa and I didn't waste time in crowding around Cassidy, who seemed to be in the final stage of completing her sketch. She had illustrated a scene of two slender boys kissing, one with side swept raven hair and one with a messy head of ocher curls – Stan and Kyle.
Sawyer peered over my shoulders as he leaned in to hug me from behind – in a friendly manner, of course; and he commented, "That's kind of weird, dude. That's kind of what they look like right now."
"Are you kidding me?" Cassidy said in an excited tone. "Yes. Oh hell yes, I am so good. Bitches, praise my all-knowing psychic brain!"
"Oh, shut up." Marissa teased with a roll of her eyes, and Cassidy thwacked her with the sketchbook. "We all knew it was going to happen eventually."
I don't care how creepy this might sound. Really, I don't. But I had to see this for myself, of course, and capture such a starved moment on film. Because that's just what I do. That's not creepy, right?
Whatever, suck my balls.
And it was so worth it, too. They weren't necessarily being discreet, but it wasn't nearly as bad as Bebe and Clyde had been when they were dating two months ago. Kyle had unexpectedly dominated the kiss; Stan was pressed against the wall with Kyle's hands on his waist, his own arms wrapped around Kyle's neck.
"Get a fucking room!" Kelsey yelled from the couch.
Impressed, Rikkie raised her eyebrows. "It looks like they've… practiced before."
"That is so gay," Craig remarked.
"It's cute!" Sarah gushed.
"Well, there's one way to stay warm." Ellie observed.
Wendy pursed her lips, clearly uncomfortable watching her ex in someone else's embrace – especially one of another boy. I mean, I totally don't ever talk to Wendy – she's too much of a girl – but it really wasn't hard to figure out that she had yet to get over Stan. They'd only broken up two weeks prior.
Ellie seemed to notice this, and lead Wendy into the basement in an attempt to distract. Marissa followed, given the opportunity to smoke openly without risking Stan's health.
I took several shots of the deeply immersed couple. Once they controlled their hormones enough to pull away from eachother, Kyle looked at the observers with a disapproving expression. Stan only looked embarrassed.
"Um," Stan mumbled, and Kyle managed to shoo us away. Come on, what did they expect? When two hot boys kiss, they should expect an audience. Case and point.