"Shut up, you've never met him!" Melissa argued through her deep grin, sighing, and dancing for the sky. Anita curled her eyebrow in concern and shook her head at her best friend's idiocy.
"I've never met more of an asshole in my entire life. You know I've met him, you were there," she said, laughing condescendingly.
"Yeah, but you've never met him. How many times have you talked to him, honestly? About two? He probably just didn't like you. Maybe he got a bad vibe. Give him a chance, Ani. I'm sick of your shit, don't you want me to be happy?" Melissa groaned, straightening her oversized sweater and falling into a newly raked pile of freshly fallen leaves. School had just begun, their first days as freshmen.
First days were everything to Melissa and Anita. They both shared the philosophy that the first day of anything anywhere at any time was amazing in it's own way, if they'd let it be. They had decided, beforehand, that the first day of highschool would be the first day they'd try something new, and for Melissa, the world of the opposite sex was entirely too new to forget. She was a late bloomer, never growing breasts until halfway through her eighth grade year, and too skinny to start her period.
"You know I worry for you, Mel, I'm just sick of watching you get hurt. I'm only trying to protect you," Anita defended herself, unsuccessfully.
"For Christ sake, you're so corny sometimes. Give it up. It's not like he's going to rape me or something. I'm too fat, anyways, he wouldn't care to."
Anita stood from her spot in the grass, and walked away with her hand on her forehead. She had decided not to respond to this, reason being that Melissa would probably know her response before she'd even said it. She was sick of being taken for granted, and tired of hearing her complain about what she knew wasn't true. To Anita, the world around her was never mature enough, and sympathy was a flaw in humanity itself. She leapt at a puddle from the previous night's storm, and as the ripples began to fade, she saw her reflection. A sunburn flaked from her pale face, and dirty blonde hair strayed out of where she'd carefullly combed it earlier. She was ugly. To others, she had no morality. She didn't love the same as everyone else, and she didn't look the same. Anita was gay. Anita was unpretty. Anita was everything anybody ever hated; or so it seemed. However, Melissa loved her for who she was. To melissa, Anita was beautiful in every way possible, and was different in every envious corner of her mind. She was everything a best friend could be, and more. This new guy, though, was all that an' a bag a chips. Anita was supposed to be Melissa's one and only, and not only couldn't Anita understand an attraction to men, she couldn't understand being forgotten. She shook her head and spit at the puddle, finding herself falling into thoughts she disagreed with--thoughts of sympathy, both for herself, and for Melissa.
Anita didn't cry, either, as far as she was concerned--it didn't do much good, it only amplified whatever situation occurred. Anita didn't cry. Anita did not cry. Anita needed a kleenex.
"I've never met more of an asshole in my entire life. You know I've met him, you were there," she said, laughing condescendingly.
"Yeah, but you've never met him. How many times have you talked to him, honestly? About two? He probably just didn't like you. Maybe he got a bad vibe. Give him a chance, Ani. I'm sick of your shit, don't you want me to be happy?" Melissa groaned, straightening her oversized sweater and falling into a newly raked pile of freshly fallen leaves. School had just begun, their first days as freshmen.
First days were everything to Melissa and Anita. They both shared the philosophy that the first day of anything anywhere at any time was amazing in it's own way, if they'd let it be. They had decided, beforehand, that the first day of highschool would be the first day they'd try something new, and for Melissa, the world of the opposite sex was entirely too new to forget. She was a late bloomer, never growing breasts until halfway through her eighth grade year, and too skinny to start her period.
"You know I worry for you, Mel, I'm just sick of watching you get hurt. I'm only trying to protect you," Anita defended herself, unsuccessfully.
"For Christ sake, you're so corny sometimes. Give it up. It's not like he's going to rape me or something. I'm too fat, anyways, he wouldn't care to."
Anita stood from her spot in the grass, and walked away with her hand on her forehead. She had decided not to respond to this, reason being that Melissa would probably know her response before she'd even said it. She was sick of being taken for granted, and tired of hearing her complain about what she knew wasn't true. To Anita, the world around her was never mature enough, and sympathy was a flaw in humanity itself. She leapt at a puddle from the previous night's storm, and as the ripples began to fade, she saw her reflection. A sunburn flaked from her pale face, and dirty blonde hair strayed out of where she'd carefullly combed it earlier. She was ugly. To others, she had no morality. She didn't love the same as everyone else, and she didn't look the same. Anita was gay. Anita was unpretty. Anita was everything anybody ever hated; or so it seemed. However, Melissa loved her for who she was. To melissa, Anita was beautiful in every way possible, and was different in every envious corner of her mind. She was everything a best friend could be, and more. This new guy, though, was all that an' a bag a chips. Anita was supposed to be Melissa's one and only, and not only couldn't Anita understand an attraction to men, she couldn't understand being forgotten. She shook her head and spit at the puddle, finding herself falling into thoughts she disagreed with--thoughts of sympathy, both for herself, and for Melissa.
Anita didn't cry, either, as far as she was concerned--it didn't do much good, it only amplified whatever situation occurred. Anita didn't cry. Anita did not cry. Anita needed a kleenex.