A/N: Thanks and pick-up lines go to those who reviewed. I'm getting
positive energy from all of you. I'd like to thank Hannah especially for
the constructive criticism. It just happens to be my style. It's okay if
you don't pick up on it.
Sorry for the delay too. I was partying it up on the Virgin Is-lands. Shyeah I be jammin'!
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
She has a shield of sympathy. She always seems to. Hazel is a nice girl; brimming with compassion. She doesn't want to speak to me though. I am rejected in the strangest sense; well-known in a roll-your-eyes kind of way.
"What was the English homework?," I ask, stalling time, waiting for a chance. She doesn't give it, just smiles sympathetically. I hate her for a moment.
"We didn't have any," She says, and turns back to Paige. There is a story being told, a very important story, a story far greater than me. I listen vaguely, wondering if I should jump in.
"And then, it was so sweet, he told me I had the most beautiful eyes," Paige smiles, remembering, beaming, confident. It's such a gift, after all, to be in love with your perfect boyfriend. I turn away. When you're unhappy people, you tend to dismiss happy people as obnoxious. When you're happy yourself, unhappy people are obnoxious. It is one big circle of bitter despair. Like recycling.
Hazel replies supportive best friend bullshit. I suddenly feel so alone. I doodle on my notebook and the night crawls back to me on broken legs. I want attention and death and a Tootsie roll. I stare down at my wish bracelet. You know, with beads and hemp and symbolism that you wear until it falls off and your wish is to come true. I stare into the rosy pinkness of the beads, blanking on the symbolism. Fortune? No. Harmony? Love? Money? Nothing seemed right.
"Heather?" I've zoned out. Hazel's confused, Paige isn't surprised. This will no doubt spark a stoner rumor. "Hello?"
"Sorry," I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. "What?"
"Way to pay attention, hon," Paige is terribly amused by this.
"I just asked if you wanted to come tonight," Hazel replies, in a doubtful way now. She's regretting her generosity.
"To what?"
"I'm having a party," She explains while Paige lets out a small, impatient sigh. "My parents are out of town and my aunt doesn't really care. Do you want to come?" She doesn't really want me to come. To screw her party into the ground.
"I don't know if I can," I say in a vague way. This is the way I usually answer questions. "I'll try." They nod and smile in their own ways and go on to talking about the sort of things best-friends-4-eva talk about. I look down at my bracelet again, feeling the rough, dirty hemp and hard, unforgiving beads. Wasn't hemp marijuana or something? My oblivion amuses me momentarily.
I think of the party and chapped lips and The Odyssey until focusing on the question at hand. To go or not to go? I could dress up and be sociable and normal and maybe even dance. Or maybe stand in the corner and wait for some pitying human being to come and have an awkward exchange with me.
I look at my bracelet again. Oh, yeah. Faith.
Sorry for the delay too. I was partying it up on the Virgin Is-lands. Shyeah I be jammin'!
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
She has a shield of sympathy. She always seems to. Hazel is a nice girl; brimming with compassion. She doesn't want to speak to me though. I am rejected in the strangest sense; well-known in a roll-your-eyes kind of way.
"What was the English homework?," I ask, stalling time, waiting for a chance. She doesn't give it, just smiles sympathetically. I hate her for a moment.
"We didn't have any," She says, and turns back to Paige. There is a story being told, a very important story, a story far greater than me. I listen vaguely, wondering if I should jump in.
"And then, it was so sweet, he told me I had the most beautiful eyes," Paige smiles, remembering, beaming, confident. It's such a gift, after all, to be in love with your perfect boyfriend. I turn away. When you're unhappy people, you tend to dismiss happy people as obnoxious. When you're happy yourself, unhappy people are obnoxious. It is one big circle of bitter despair. Like recycling.
Hazel replies supportive best friend bullshit. I suddenly feel so alone. I doodle on my notebook and the night crawls back to me on broken legs. I want attention and death and a Tootsie roll. I stare down at my wish bracelet. You know, with beads and hemp and symbolism that you wear until it falls off and your wish is to come true. I stare into the rosy pinkness of the beads, blanking on the symbolism. Fortune? No. Harmony? Love? Money? Nothing seemed right.
"Heather?" I've zoned out. Hazel's confused, Paige isn't surprised. This will no doubt spark a stoner rumor. "Hello?"
"Sorry," I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. "What?"
"Way to pay attention, hon," Paige is terribly amused by this.
"I just asked if you wanted to come tonight," Hazel replies, in a doubtful way now. She's regretting her generosity.
"To what?"
"I'm having a party," She explains while Paige lets out a small, impatient sigh. "My parents are out of town and my aunt doesn't really care. Do you want to come?" She doesn't really want me to come. To screw her party into the ground.
"I don't know if I can," I say in a vague way. This is the way I usually answer questions. "I'll try." They nod and smile in their own ways and go on to talking about the sort of things best-friends-4-eva talk about. I look down at my bracelet again, feeling the rough, dirty hemp and hard, unforgiving beads. Wasn't hemp marijuana or something? My oblivion amuses me momentarily.
I think of the party and chapped lips and The Odyssey until focusing on the question at hand. To go or not to go? I could dress up and be sociable and normal and maybe even dance. Or maybe stand in the corner and wait for some pitying human being to come and have an awkward exchange with me.
I look at my bracelet again. Oh, yeah. Faith.