Monday came, but Cassie couldn't find it in herself to enjoy it. Usually she sat outside, talking to Jessica, and waited to catch a glimpse of Peter walking into the school; then she'd go into her first period class late and give the teacher some excuse about traffic or something else of that nature.
Instead, she passed by Jessica entirely and tried not to look at her. Jessica had come to school in all black, wearing clothes from that one place called Hot Topic in one of the malls in Denver, where she moved from. Her lipstick was dark, her eyeliner was heavy, her nails were painted shiny black with white tips.
It had taken everything in Cassie to get it off her nails. She hated black. As weird as it sounded, she wasn't fond of that colour at all. It looked cool in comic books, and it looked cool on people like Peter and Henrietta and Thorne and Nicholas, but she hated the thought of wearing that colour. It turned her stomach sour; ever since she entered kindergarten, she hated wearing it.
She passed by Jessica without comment, and Jessica just laughed and continued talking to Sharon, ignoring her, too. Waiting to see if she'd actually leave Peter alone for once, if she really would keep her promise and give her a chance. It was terrible and she felt so pathetic, but she wanted to keep Jessica as a friend more than she wanted to hang out with Peter and work up the courage to tell him she liked him. She had never had a friend before, and so she refused to believe that Jessica's friendship with her was that shallow, was so fragile that all it took was a boy to get between them.
Plus, she didn't want Peter to see her like this. She'd told him she didn't care what those girls thought, and it would kill her to admit she really did. That she let them bully her again. She was pretty sure Jessica had an advanced class, but she wasn't sure if Peter was in it. Hopefully she'd talk to him in that class and he'd fall for her and they'd be friends again.
––––––––––––––––––
"Hey, Peter…"
Her voice was soft, melodic–seductive, almost. He looked up from his book and glanced at her. "Oh…Hi, Jessica. Why'd you…" He trailed off, noticing what she was wearing. He smiled a little. "Oh, so you decided to show your true self? Cassandra was telling me how you schooled her on Gothic subculture…"
Jessica fluttered her eyelashes a bit and Peter leaned back a little, giving her a look.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Jessica laughed, loud and crass, almost obnoxiously strained. He narrowed his eyes and grimaced a bit. She pursed her lips and curled a lock of hair around her finger. "I'm fine. So, what kind of bands do you like?"
He smiled weakly, glancing over to the door and to the window. "I don't really listen to music that much…"
She smiled. "Really? I like bands like Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Nine Inch Nails, A.F.I…" She smiled at him and he smiled back, wondering to himself if she could get anymore main-stream. For someone who enjoyed schooling people on Gothic subculture, she sure did seem follow the mainstream instead. The trashy, watered-down music that seemed to be plaguing the music business; the music that made "Goth" and "Emo" and "Punk" so hard to tell apart these days. That was one of the main reasons why he hated listening to music–it was all the same exact thing.
"Oh, that's nice…"
She nodded her head and looked at the book he was reading. "What are you reading?" She giggled and pulled it out of his hands, much to his dislike, and looked at the cover. "Oh! Edgar Allen Poe! Oh wow! I love him, he's my favorite poet! My favorite poem is 'The Raven'."
Peter smiled a little, taking it back from her as gently as possible so as not to offend her. "Most of his poems are crap. I like his short stories instead. I can count the number of his poems I like on my hand."
She feigned interest. "Are you serious? Which ones are those??"
Peter smiled weakly and counted them off on his hand. "'The Bells', 'Annabel Lee', 'Serenade' and the 'Conqueror Worm'."
"You don't like 'The Raven'?"
Peter chuckled. "He could have shortened it and still have gotten the same meaning across. Like I said, most of his poems are crap because he tries to put too much in a single poem. He's better at written prose than poetry."
She nodded and stretched a little, smiling. "I thought he was a poet… But about the putting too much into something bit, I know what you mean; most of the crap these days is in bad taste. Like Radiohead? Oh my God, talk about lame… What kind of movies do you like?"
He looked back down at his book, eager to get back to reading, but couldn't refuse her and be rude. He shrugged and glanced at her a little, face just as blank as it had been for a while. "I don't watch movies that much. I prefer reading to movies."
She laughed. "So true! See, some of my favorite movies are Donnie Darko and The Crow, but I also like old-school movies like The Breakfast Club and stuff like that."
He looked at her, narrowed his eyes, and closed his book. "Did you even listen to what I said? I said I don't watch movies that much."
She smiled and nodded, running a hand through her hair and trying to look somewhat seductive. "Do you like my hair? I think it's a bit too light for me, but it's pretty cool. Don't you think?"
That did it.
He cleared his throat, shrugged his shoulders. "Actually, I think the colour washes out your face too much. You should have kept it red, since blonde hair isn't a good look for people with light skin like you. I think that you should stop bitching about bands like Radiohead being too main-stream until you listen to the music you like. Maybe then you'd see how much of a hypocrite you're being. Also, you try too hard to be Goth, considering you claim that Edgar Allen Poe is your favorite poet when you didn't even know he wrote short stories, and the fact that you only like bands that have been around in the past eight or ten years. All in all, I'd have to give you a star rating of one out of five. The only thing that makes you worth talking to is the fact that it's given me an example of a shallow person for future generations…"
Her jaw dropped, and she narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? That's pretty funny for you to say when I taught Cassie about Gothic subculture. You have me to thank for that."
Peter smiled. "It's funny for you to say that since she's grasped that concept more than you have."
She scoffed and stood up. "And what's so bad about my hair? Cassie said you liked blonde hair!"
Peter shrugged, and his cheeks turned slightly pink. He returned to his book to retreat from this confrontation since he was a bit shy when it came to arguing with people. "You must have misunderstood her. I said I liked blonde hair because it suited her. It doesn't suit you, as does this whole façade you've built around yourself at being some cool, unique Goth when really all you are is someone looking for a trend to follow."
"Who the hell do you think you are!? Don't act like you're better than me!!"
He shrugged. "I don't think I'm better than you. I just think you're the type of person who follows trends. Is that so bad? Lots of people live perfectly happy lives like that and don't feel empty at all…"
She sneered. "Cassie's gonna be so pissed at you for talking to me like this! I hope you enjoy being rejected, because when she hears about this you're screwed!"
He looked up at her, tried to keep his hand from shaking too obviously. His words were slow, calculated. He had to make sure not a hint of worry was in his voice. "By the way…why are you bringing Cassandra into this? She has nothing to do with my opinion of you."
He received a slap in the face and the glares of practically every girl in the classroom. Some of the guys started snickering, but Peter ignored it. He'd dealt with worse before, after all. This was hardly worth his concern. His only concern was finding Cassie first and explaining himself to her before Jessica got there and started rattling out a bunch of shit that may or may not have happened.
––––––––––––––
When school let out, Peter walked out to the front of the school building and looked around. Cassie was nowhere to be found, and usually she stayed there and waited for him to come out; she'd wave to him and say hello, and he'd get a warm feeling in his chest.
But she wasn't there.
Sharon walked out of the door behind him with her group of girls. To his surprise, Jessica was with them, talking animatedly. Usually she waited with Cassie and would meet up with Sharon when the girl and her posse came out the building.
He walked over and tapped the ex-redhead on the shoulder. She whirled around, saw who it was and soured up real fast. He bit his lip, clenched his fists and tugged on his shirt anxiously. "Wh-Where's Cassandra?"
She laughed. "Oh, I told her how much of an ass you were being to me and she thinks you're a complete asshole. She's already on her way home, and she hates you now."
He blinked, narrowed his eyes. "Wouldn't she be consoling you? That doesn't sound like her…"
Jessica sneered and walked off; some of the girls in the group were snickering. One with long black hair and a fairly portly look to her–she was related to some freshman girl named Patty or something–giggled, mumbling something so faint he could hardly hear it. "Poor thing hasn't said a thing to you, Jessie, ever since we cut it all off…"
Jessica waved her hand, speaking to both Peter and Patty's younger sister. "People change."
It made some sense, but the cryptic words kept ringing in his head. Cut what off? People didn't change over the course of a weekend. Not that severe of a personality change–it was like she didn't even care about Jessica anymore.
He watched them go, and felt his heart begin to sink. He felt dizzy, and his stomach was turning flip-flops. There was definitely something not right here, and it had something to do with that slumber party. He just knew it. Regardless, he needed to go talk to her and explain himself, if Jessica was telling the truth. It was really weird, too, since she had told him on Thursday that she wanted to hang out with his friends on Monday. Because of it, he'd asked Thorne to go on ahead to Henrietta's house without him. So why wasn't she here?
His body was moving before his mind did. Before he knew it, he was walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the Harris household, hoping everything was really okay. Craig would have noticed something, so even if she refused to talk to him, he could always ask her brother. Even though he didn't seem to like any of the Goth kids, much less him.
His eyes were down, as they always were, and at one point he caught sight of Cassie's shoes. He knew they were hers because they had a unicorn painted on the side with acrylic paint. It was sloppy, obviously something she'd done to an old pair of sneakers in elementary school. He lifted his head to double-check and froze in his tracks.
Her hair. It was short and black. Shorter than Henrietta's and blacker than Thorne's, which was kept dyed and in good maintenance. A newly-dyed black look.
"C-Cassandra?"
She sped up, and he knew it was her. What the hell had happened to her? He walked after her, grabbed her arm and pulled, causing her to spin around and face him. He looked at her face, noticed the trembling lips in a tight line and the squinted eyes as if she didn't want to cry.
"…What's wrong?"
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Finally, she shook her head and turned back around, began walking again. He frowned, knitted his brows together and tried again. Except this time, he grabbed her hand.
This time, he was the one to drag her off to his home.
––––––––––––––
She stumbled in the door after him...the little Goth that was almost livid, if one could call him that. To anyone else, he would have been merely agitated, but for him, it was livid. When she stumbled in, a relaxed voice met her ears.
"So that's what your brother meant today… Wonder what happened…"
She looked up to see Thorne, staring at her and giving her the blandest expression he could muster. He was actually fairly interested in her reasoning behind the change in hair, although he tried to keep it discreet. Henrietta looked at her and immediately sensed something was wrong. She stopped petting the cat and sat up straighter, looking over at her with mild interest.
It was Nicholas that spoke next. "That's a pretty good look on you, you know… You shouldn't be so upset…"
Peter wheeled on him. "Avery, be quiet. This is no time for your biased opinions."
Nicholas sneered and shifted his weight off the wall and walked over to her, standing in the middle of the room, and placed a hand on her head. He sighed, not even believing he was about to say what was on his mind this time. "Hey, cheer up, Lollipop."
When she burst into tears, he grimaced and retracted his hand, walking over toward Henrietta. He mumbled. "It wasn't my fault…" Henrietta simply nodded toward him and pouted a little. Peter just stood there, frowning and fidgeting with his shirt. Thorne was still somewhat relaxed, but he'd sat up a little bit more, too.
Henrietta stood up and opened the door. "Alright, boys. It's girl time. Come on. Especially you, Nicky–I know you don't want to see her cry." Thorne immediately left, and Nicholas followed soon after, complaining about needing a smoke, but Peter stood rooted to the spot. She sighed and touched his shoulder. "Come on, baby bat…"
"N-No. She needs me."
Henrietta chuckled and rolled her eyes, walking over to the door and closing it. "Alright, baby bat. Your nobility is really admirable…" She walked over and pulled Cassie over to the bed. "Come on, Lollipop. Let's give you something to lean on…" She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and sighed, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
Cassie curled up and sniffled. "I didn't want them to… I liked my hair…the way it was…but they kept saying… They said if I were going to hang out with Peter, I might as well look the part…"
Henrietta shushed her. "Girls your age are so petty… Don't let it get to you."
"But I can't help it! He said blonde hair suited me, and he liked it, and now it looks like I'm just trying to fit in with all of you! I don't want to start wearing all black… I hate wearing black…"
Peter walked over and sat on the other side of Henrietta, twiddled his thumbs nervously. "W-Well… I actually just meant that I didn't mind if you had blonde hair… I mean…black hair looks good, too… I just meant that, um…I…liked you no matter how you looked or how you were…"
"Yeah, but now my dad thinks I'm just going to join your cult or something! All he does now is badmouth you guys…"
Henrietta laughed. "What else is new? Everyone rips on us. We're just the Goth kids. That's pretty much it. Don't let that bother you."
"B-But he doesn't understand any of you at all… He doesn't know how nice you all are…"
Henrietta laughed. "Well, by all accounts, we're pretty mean sometimes so he's not completely false about that…"
"Yeah, but…I want Jessica to stay my friend…and if I hang out with Peter, it won't happen… She seems to think I'm standing in the way of her getting Peter to like her, so she wanted me to stop talking to him…"
Peter frowned, clenched his fists. "Yeah, well Jessica's a dumb bitch. You shouldn't be friends with shallow girls like her… And she can just give up, because I'd never like someone as self-absorbed as her…" Henrietta put a hand on his head, shaking her head at him.
"Baby bat, as much as we're her friends, we can't take the place of a girl her own age. I still remember how much I wanted a girl my own age to hang out with…but I was stuck with all of you idiots."
She laughed and patted him on the head, turned her attention back to Cassie. "Lollipop, you continue trying to be her friend…but don't stop hanging out with Peter. Eventually she'll have to make a choice between you two, and if she picks you, then you know she's a keeper. If not, let us know and I'll get Nicky to kick her ass…" She laughed again, jokingly, of course, but it was still unclear whether she had been serious or not.
Cassie sniffled. "Yeah…but…when we first met, she said she'd been left out as a kid, too… And she said she wanted to help me be accepted, because she wanted to see me happy. So she decided to act all girly and nice to get them to think I was cool, too…"
Henrietta smiled. "Well then, it sounds like she just let that popularity get to her head. Don't worry about it. I'm sure if you stay the way you are, she'll eventually realize how stupid she's being. And if she doesn't, then it's no big deal. At least you have Peter."
Cassie nodded and wiped the tears out her eyes. "I should probably go home now…"
Peter stood up and held out his hand. "Um…I'll walk you home…" She took his hand and stood up, wiping some of the remaining tears sticking to her face away with her free hand. She glanced back at Henrietta and fell into her, giving her a hug.
"Thanks…"
Henrietta smiled and mussed the younger girl's hair. "Any friend of baby bat's is a friend of mine, Lollipop. 'Sides, it'd be nice to have another girl around here every once in a while." She turned to Peter. "Make sure she gets home safe, alright?"
Peter nodded and took her hand, dragging her out the door. Once outside, they passed by Thorne and Nicholas, who were talking amongst themselves about music and the differences between genres.
"Look, all I'm saying is I can't tell the difference between The Cure and most eighties bands. All of the singers sound exactly alike…"
Nicholas sneered. "You wouldn't, would you? You'd rather listen to shit like The Misfits and Skinny Puppy. And for your information, there isn't anybody in this world that has Smith's voice. So you can't say shit about the singers sounding the exact same."
The shorter of the two brushed the bangs out of his eyes and took a drag from his cigarette. "Better than that shit you listen to! Both of my favorite bands have a completely different way of presenting their songs and playing their music! What about you? The Cure? Blaqk Audio? Tears For Fears? They all sound the exact fucking same. And don't even get me started on how Skinny Puppy is one of the classics."
Nicholas rolled his eyes. "The Cure has quite a few songs that sound different than their others. And Skinny Puppy's industrial crap. Not worth listening to. "
"At least their songs have more meat than the songs that pussy Roger, or Robert, or whoever he is that does vocals for The Cure, sings. He sounds like he's constantly sobbing while he sings. Aaauuuh. Ooouhhh. What the hell is up with that? He's a pussy."
Nicholas quirked a brow and sighed. "Well, I can't really argue with that… He does always sound like he's about to start sobbing mid-song…" He then pointed at Thorne, at his hair and at his clothes. "And what would that make you? After all, you look like you're trying to be his clone or something…"
Thorne shrugged. "So? I can like how someone looks without having to like how they sound."
Nicholas narrowed his eyes and took the last drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, but music is about the sound, not the appearance, you ignorant douche…" He spit the butt out of his mouth and crushed it under his heel into the cold, white snow. He glanced over and noticed the two little ones beside them.
"Oh, I see Pinky stopped crying."
Cassie groaned. "So when I'm not suffering you go back to calling me that? Why can't you call me Lollipop like your other friends?"
Thorne leaned over and put a hand in front of his mouth, blocking the sound from carrying over to the side Nicholas was standing on. "He's just living up to his non-conformist reputation. Don't mind him. Besides, I think he's using that name affectionately now, so don't think he's being mean."
Cassie gave Nicholas a smile and started walking away, letting Peter trail behind her. The two older boys watched them for a while, until they reached the end of the street. Then, Nicholas lit up another cigarette and took a short puff. "You know I heard that… And for your information, I wasn't living up to any reputation; I just happen think Pinky suits her better than Lollipop…"
Thorne shrugged and took a drag from the cigarette he was close to finishing–he knew how to pace himself from lack of monetary resources all the time, unlike Nicholas. "I'm not the one that listened to hip hop for four days straight for some stupid dance-off, sucka. You ain't got nothin' on me."
Nicholas eyed him, giving him a dirty look and pursing his lips together, indignantly. "I fucking hate you."
–––––––––––––
He was standing so close to him, he could smell the nicotine and whiskey on his breath. "Look, I don't like you, and you don't like me, but my sister's been acting weird and she cut her hair, so I think it has something to do with this party she went to last Friday. She told me on Thursday she'd be hanging with you guys after school today, so I'm warning you–be nice to her. You got that?"
Thorne gave him a wry grin, pushing Craig's face away from his. "Alright, Chief, but buy some breath mints and back off, alright? I wasn't planning on being mean to her any time soon. Your sister's pretty cool."
Craig waited for an obscene comment, and gave a sigh of relief when it never came. "Good, just be nice to her and let her cry if she needs to. I have a feeling she's been holding back all weekend."
Craig sighed, staring out the window. If Cassie was even more depressed than before, Thorne would have hell to pay. Hell, all of the Goth kids would have hell to pay. What the hell was so appealing about Cassie anyway? She was nothing like them, didn't like anything they did; so why the hell were they hanging out with her as if she was one of them?
A figure stepped onto the driveway and Craig perked up. It was his sister. Close behind, he saw Peter. The hair on the back of his neck stood up when he realized what was going on.
He was walking her home. Unsupervised.
His over-protective big-brother mode kicked in and he puffed out his chest almost subconsciously, narrowed his eyes to make himself look more menacing. There was no way that kid would reach first base with him around.
He watched them with the intensity equal to that of a guard dog watching a man in a ski mask.
His sister smiled and hugged him, waving to him. After a moment he tugged on her sleeve and she looked back at him. His eyes fell to his shoes, and his face lit up. She just laughed and said something very faint, that he couldn't hear through the door or window, and the pale little boy looked back at her, smiling shyly. After a moment he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She blushed and turned around to the door.
–––––––––––
He kicked at the tiny concrete porch and stared at his feet. "Um… Cassan– C-Cassie? Um… Uh… Well, I just…I just wanted to, uh…to–to tell you…"
She giggled and gave him a smile. "It's okay, Peter. I heard you when we were over at Henrietta's house. I like you, too."
He looked up and smiled at her. He leaned over real quick and kissed her on the cheek, turning bright red almost immediately afterward. She giggled and turned around to the door, which opened up in an instant. She looked up at her brother, and Peter looked up, scooted away as if he were about to dart down the walkway and run away, but Craig nodded his head.
"Hey. You take care of her, alright?"
He blinked and looked back at Cassie, who looked as if she were about to start bouncing up and down with delight. He gulped and looked back up at the tall, husky football player in the doorway. He nodded pathetically, and Craig gave him a bright smile, pushing his sister into the house.
"Good, because if you don't, I'll fucking kill you."
Her brother slammed the door on him, and Cassie threw the curtains away from the window and waved to him, blowing him a kiss. He smiled and waved back, headed down the street. The smile never left his face on his way home.
1) Jessica's Music
Yeah. Don't get offended by me or anything and start defending your favorite bands with harsh words and shit. I'm telling you right now -- I listen to all of those bands. (Except Nine Inch Nails. They can go get in a plane crash or something for all I care. Flame me about that band if you want, but not any of the other bands.) What I wanted to show was that the Goth kids are "old-school" Goth. Jessica, however, is definitely into the newer stuff that is most popular these days. The real point that I wanted Peter to show is that he and his friends like music that breaks the norm. Well, back in the day, those so-called "Goth" bands all broke the norm; the bands these days are really only following in their footsteps. And yeah, A.F.I. has developed its own sound (and now is called emo all the time) and My Chemical Romance has some things that sound different, but really -- Music has been organized so critically that now the only thing that differentiates an "emo" band from a "Goth" band is the fact that "Goth" bands have a darker feel to them. Going by the standards these days, The Cure could easily be labeled "emo", simply because their music doesn't have such a dark sound and most of the lyrics are about sadness. But The Cure isn't, only because they were before the whole shitty "emo" genre, at least, what people THESE days consider "emo". The significance of these bands isn't to show that Jessica likes bands that are crap; it's to show that the bands she likes are popular, and that, shown by how she acts, she's really into them simply so she can follow a trend.
(Okay, so Nine Inch Nails isn't THAT bad. I like Closer.)
2) Tears For Fears?
Pretty much --80's, 80's, 80's. When I say Tears for Fears, I mean their other songs like "Woman in Chains" and stuff like that. (You know, the crappy songs?) And as for Blaqk Audio: they're circa last year or so, but their music sounds like the type of stuff you'd hear in the 80's. (I actually thought they were an 80's band when I heard "Stiff Kittens". Ha ha.)
3) Sobbing Sounds
I was listening to The Cure one day, trying to figure out what makes Robert Smith's voice so distinct, and I came upon the realization that he has that, "Oh God, I think I'm about to start crying" sound to his voice. Am I crazy? Is that just me? My best friend starting saying how there was something about The Cure that made her hate them, and I asked her if it was because Smith always sounds like he's sobbing while he sings, and she went crazy -- "THAT'S IT! HE DOES!! OH! I HATE HIS FUCKING VOICE! AAAUUURGHHHH!" Any of you who listen to The Cure, listen to them RIGHT NOW and tell me if that's what he sounds like. Seriously. I swear I'm not just crazy or something...
4) Smith Clone
For the longest time I thought Thorne looked so familiar, and then one day I was randomly scrolling through a bunch of songs on YouTube, looking for something to do because I was bored as hell, watched a video by The Cure and went, "SHIT! Why didn't I notice that before!?" Harr harr. Actually, his hair isn't EXACTLY like Smith's. Smith's is like FSHOOM EVERYWHERE, while Thorne's is just MESSY MESSY MESSY WE DON'T KNOW WHAT SCISSORS ARE OR HOW TO USE THEM. He has a fringe, yeh, but he always reminds me of Robert Smith, probably because of his clothes. It's the queerest thing, really. I really don't know why, but Thorne just reminds me of Robert Smith... Any of you get that feeling? Maybe I'm the only one. xD (God, I must be having another manic moment or something.)
5) You Got Nothin' On Me
Episode 805. Straight up, G.
6) "Pretty In Pink", by The Psychedelic Furs
Yeah. The song's lyrics only loosely have the same plot as this fic (Unlike Mr. Brightside), but the main reason why I like choosing songs for story titles is because I can end up choosing some that have nothing to do with anything other than it has the same FEELING I tried making the story evoke. This is one of those stories, you see. I don't know, but the song sort of makes me feel somewhat sad, and at the same time it sounds so laid-back that it's kind of calming.
