Swords & Axes: A Cheerless Interlude
by The Jessica X
Libby, Sabrina, et al. are © Archie Comics / Hartbreak / Paramount / Whatever.
Adymm and the members of In Absinthia are © me, so there.
This work of fiction is © myself.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just wanted to quickly reiterate that I'm so very, very sorry for the horrendous chapter titles. They're not going to get any better, either.Chapter 5: Libby La Vida Loca
All those musings were probably really boring, huh? Sorry! Let's skip ahead...
Graduation was all pomp and ceremony; the orchestra was there again, and everybody was dressed up in these ugly robes; it was ghastly. Well... okay, at the same time it was kinda satisfying and emotional, but whatever. I was nervous as hell before I sang. Oh that's right, I almost forgot to mention that they wanted me to sing something for everybody! After a lot of arguing and screaming, we settled on a slightly altered rendition of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"; incidentally, learning it made me kinda start to like the band. Anyway, it was special, everybody clapped... weird. No, I'm used to being applauded, that much will never change, but this was... different. This time it was like I had truly earned it, not just stood up there and been congratulated on how pretty I am. It made me feel really good.
Based on reading the rest of my life story, I shouldn't need to tell you that Mother didn't show up. No, I was the only member of my family present, so I gave myself a big hug and told me this was the beginning of a whole new adventure, and that I'd always be there for me. I was so proud of me, too...
Adymm's parents were exactly as he described: rich, well-mannered, and pretentious. Luckily, his mother got the whole ceremony on tape, so at least somebody filled that parental role for me. His little sister Ava was somebody I could have related to before Sabrina altered my personality on a molecular level - all lip gloss and pastels, almost as deep as a wading pool. Of course, I could still carry on a conversation with her, but a year in solitary had left me somewhat behind in the fashion arena.
I'll save your poor brain the guesswork; yes, I cried during The Walk. Duh!
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"Ahh... at long last, freedom!"
The morning after the ceremony was my final day waking up on that rigid mattress in Swords Private Academy (thank God). My bags were packed, my cab fare and storage key were in my purse, I was dressed in more appropriate civilian gear, and all my ducks were in a row. Only one thing left to do...
Adymm was waiting for me in the foyeur, hands in his pockets; I could see the administration throwing him furtive looks due to his attire. Personally... yeah, I had to gasp myself.
"What the hell are you wearing?!" I hissed.
He grinned through his black lipstick. "Doesn't this rock? In fact, I'm gonna steal Dad's little disposable camera he brought to get a picture of me looking like this in front of the building, just to show that on one single day, I got to look like myself in this school."
I had to shake my head and laugh, because he looked amazingly ridiculous. Baggy black jeans, fishnet sleeves, a blood red vest (a vest?!) over one of those whoever-band tees, heavy black boots, and all sorts of spikes and chains protruding from everywhere. It was like Edward Scissorhands cranked up to ten. "I cannot be seen with you looking like that."
That bitter laugh. "Yeah, it doesn't feel quite the same as it did before... I think I'll try blending this with a more toned-down look, condense it down into my 'new style'. It really is hideous, isn't it?"
On second glance? "Well, maybe not 'hideous'... but I am getting this 'trying too hard' vibe."
"Thought so. Ah well, I can be the old me for a day." He looked me up and down. "But what are you wearing?"
"Oh, uh..." Now I felt nervous; everything I had on was probably really tacky and outdated now. "Just what I was wearing when I got here."
"Me too, but I didn't look like a-" He seemed to realise he was heading down a dangerous road. "I mean, I just... I dunno, I pictured you wearing stuff a little less..."
"Princessy?"
"Yeah, that's the word... if it is a word." He half-smiled in fear. "Don't kill me for dogging on the royal garments, my queen?"
"Oh, shut up," I said, smoothing out my shirt. "I just need to get to the Gap, pick up a Seventeen... get reacquainted with the world of style."
"Ahh, who cares what they think? Just find what you think looks good and get five pairs."
"And I suppose that's what you did?"
"Well... I had this three years ago, and last summer was the last time I was allowed to wear it. Don't worry, I'll be reevaluating plenty in the next couple months."
"I guess we both will."
And quite without warning, it reared up and bit us on the asses - the goodbye.
"Yep, I guess this is it," he said with a sigh, nodding and looking at his boots.
"Yeah."
We both stood around for a minute before I heard a car horn go off outside. "That sounds like my parents' Benz," he muttered.
My eyes widened, mouth already beginning to water. "B-B-BENZ?!"
A re-pierced eyebrow went up as I followed him out. "They can match Trump's checkbook blow for blow; what'd you expect?"
"Right, right..." Trying not to betray how close I had come to wetting myself, I cleared my throat and continued, "So, uh, let's go take that picture, maybe?"
"I thought you didn't wanna be seen with a freak like me."
I couldn't resist a small smile. "Haven't you figured out by now that I'm a freak groupie?"
"Ahh, so that explains it..."
"Explains what?! ...hey, c'mon, tell me!"
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We did take the picture - all three of us. See, Giselle started bawling when she saw me leaving; I asked her what was wrong, and as it turns out, she thought we were bestest friends... she just had a very nonexistant way of showing it before that day. So yeah, we all crowded in and Adymm's dad reluctantly snapped us in front of the giant oaken doors of Swords. It was sweet, in a twisted kinda way.
Hugs were shared, tears were shed, and "See you soons" were said optimistically in place of goodbyes. Then I was off, vowing never to bother with class reunions for that crappy place.
Back in Westbridge, I tried to look up Jill and Cee Cee only to find out they and some of the other girls were in Cancun - kind of a "School's Out For Summer" fling. Too bad they didn't wait for me; it sounded like fun. Oh, well.
The one thing that went completely right while I was there is my visit to Gran. Oh, she was the same as ever - warm and doting, and ready with a bowl of those butterscotch candies she loves so much. We swapped stories of the last year, she really pooh-poohed my parents' descision to up and go abroad without me (which I was very pleased with), and topped it off by catching the tail end of some Bogart flick on Turner Classic. She invited me to stay for a game of canasta, but there were a few other things to do before I called it a day, so I told her I'd come back real soon.
The sweet old girl slipped $20 into my purse when she thought I wasn't looking, too... but I slipped it right back into her candy dish. Let's just call it tradition.
It took me forever to find the storage facility, but when I did they checked my driver's license and showed me to my little garage. What a mess - all my crap had been tossed in boxes, and I was sure at least a few boxfulls were missing entirely. My car was thankfully under a tarp, so no dust to worry about there; I got to work right away sorting out what I needed and didn't.
I was shocked at everything I threw out. Seriously, I thought I'd love to get back to all that junk, but that's exactly what it was - junk. The teddy bears, and all those pictures of myself, and it was all just so useless! Gran had offered to mothball a few less-necessary things in her garage until I could get my own place someday, and I figured I might take her up on that. I decided to keep some of the clothes that weren't too dated, and family pictures and a few other things that are too private or embarassing to mention here, but a lot of it was going to go to Goodwill.
And then I came across the ribbon.
"Second Place in the 1999 Westbridge High School Science Fair," I read aloud to no one. "Heh." On a whim, I tied it to my rearview mirror; it looked nifty there.
The wave of nostalgia almost bowled me over - I had to see her. These pangs hit me all the time, but never so bad as then; it was overwhelming when talking to her was actually a possibility. Without needing to think, I threw all my stuff in the car and drove off toward the Spellman homestead.
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"Not again..." I was pounding so hard I thought I'd break the door down. "IS ANYBODY HOME?!"
The door creaked open. "Yes?"
"Oh - Hi, Ms. Spellman!"
"Hilda." It was the Aunt that didn't like me; I introduced myself politely, even though I'm sure she remembered.
"It's me, Libby Chessler. Is Sabrina here?"
"Nope," came the terse reply. "Bye!"
"Wait!" She waited. "Um... will she be back soon?"
Reluctantly, she stopped to explain. "I don't think so... her appointment was at two, and it's only two-ten now, so-"
"Appointment?"
"With the shrink." Then she slapped her hand to her mouth. "Oops!"
"Shrink?!" I was sure I didn't hear her right. "What do you mean, 'shrink'?!"
"Drat! I'm such a ditz!" She paced nervously into the living room, and I followed close behind.
"Ms. Spellman, please, be straight with me... is she really at a psychiatrist's office?"
"Yes," she said miserably, plopping down on the sofa. "I didn't mean to let it slip out, though. Oh, she's gonna kill me for this..."
"But... why does she need one? Are you sure? She couldn't need therapy... maybe-"
"It's because of Harvey."
"Harvey? What about him?"
She glanced up at me, eyebrows knitted. "You don't know?"
"Know what?!" When she fidgeted again, I continued, "There's no point in hiding it from me; I'm still connected to the Westbridge grapevine. What's wrong with Harvey?"
"They broke up, sweetie... Harvey left her a few weeks ago."
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END Chapter Five