Suggested Listening: "Meet Me at the Corner" - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Feel It in My Bones

~Meet Me at the Corner~

Obviously, dating Wedy – or whatever it was that we were doing – would entail spending quite a bit more time with her. That was sort of the point. What I had not expected, however, was how much time that would mean I would be spending with Halle.

Halle's nameless, changes-every-few-days boyfriend was usually included in this, and they all usually had a propensity to call me "dude" to the point of where I was contemplating suicide by cheese wire.

I was beginning to miss Mello…

Wedy and Halle, I suppose, were almost the same as Mello and I were; you couldn't have one without the other. We were pretty much a package deal.

At least, that is what Marcy Johnston, the first – and last, might I add – girlfriend of Mello's I had ever met had said. It was the summer before Grade Eight, and Mello had invited the both of us to hang out at his house. This being the first time I had ever been in this situation, I had had really no concept of the term "third wheel" and what that would involve.

Marcy had been catty at best. Apparently, her hatred of me had long been formed as, "all he ever does is talk about you!" I wasn't exactly sure of the validity of that comment, but the thought still had her in a tizzy all the same.

Mello broke up with her the next day. When asked about it, he shrugged and said, "She was annoying."

Either Mello chose to keep his girlfriends separate or had decided that dating in general was a trying concept, because I never heard a single word from him about being in a relationship since. Sure, many people wanted to go out with Mello, but he never seemed to show any interest to my knowledge.

He always got much more of a thrill out of teasing, anyways.

Considering that we were in the same situation as Wedy and Halle were, it was odd that Halle was ever present while Mello was as scarce as can be. He didn't really want to hang out at the moment, his replies to texts were short, and any phone conversations were awkward and brief.

I just assumed he was busy.

"Ugh… Gag me," Wedy groaned at the show Halle had chosen.

We were currently in Wedy's basement, lounging around as we sought refuge from the unrelenting heat outside.

Halle smirked. "Hey. We're always watching that bleeding hearts, abused animal crap that you like to cry over, so I think you can handle one episode of something that I want."

"Animal abuse is a legitimate issue!" Wedy defended. "Besides, the episode you want to watch is two hours long."

Halle sighed dreamily to grate on her friend's nerves. "Isn't it glorious?"

Before she could blink, Halle's face was met by Wedy's cherry-red flat turned projectile.

"Hey, dude, can you pass the chips?" Boyfriend No. 4 asked me as the two hot-tempered girls began to squabble.

I sighed and chucked the bag at him, trying my best to feign interest in the goings-on on the screen.

It was somewhere between the guy on the TV show getting bitch-slapped and Halle's boyfriend's exclamation of, "Yeah! Take it off!" that I decided to head outside for some fresh air.

Halle's boyfriend seemed to have lost interest momentarily in our two girlfriends drawing each other's blood as they engaged in a cat fight to end all cat fights – or at least that's how I'm guessing his foggy thought process would perceive their innocent mock fight – because he called to me just as I was leaving the room, "Hey, dude! Where are you going?"

I paused, counted to ten, and then continued on my way without a response.

The heat wave outside greeted me like a tonne of bricks to the stomach as soon as I stepped out the front door. I immediately found the vest I was wearing to be unnecessary and discarded it on the ground beside me. I sat down on the cement steps, guarding my eyes against the glare of the sun (not even my goggles were providing adequate protection against it) as I looked off down the street.

The neighbourhood was entirely quiet; the sane people – unlike me, apparently – were holed up indoors away from the heat. There was a slight breeze that stirred the trees every now and again, but otherwise everything was still. Only the grass, the cracks in the sidewalk, and my shadow were here to keep me company. I coughed.

Somewhere off down the street, I heard the engine of a car that was passing by and I stirred. I only caught a glimpse of it just as it turned the corner, but the image stuck in my mind as the neighbourhood was thrown back into its idle state with the car's departure. My eyes ran over the length of a crack in the cement as ants crawled in and out of it. One detail stuck in my mind and would not leave me alone.

The car was red.

Red like the shade of lipstick that Wedy wore. Red like the roses at the restaurant I had taken her to. Red like the light I had nearly accidentally ran when I had been taking her back home, distracted by my thoughts. Red like the stop sign on the corner we passed as I had walked her up to the door. Red like my face when I realized she was expecting something from me, and I had only waved goodbye dumbly. Red, she had called me, as she kissed my cheek, laughing, before heading inside.

Red like the beads in the rosary Mello always wore around his neck.

Red like the box his favourite chocolates came in, the colour of his favourite sheets (only known because of the amount of times I had heard Mello bitching at his mom when we were younger about how they always got scratchy after she washed them), the colour of the sky that one time we sat up for hours on my roof just to see the sunrise after staying up the whole night, the colour my car would most definitely be after I had painted it (Mello always teased me that it was pink, but what did he know?), and the colour my face always turned with just one look from those blue eyes.

Red like the haze that had obscured my vision when I had leaned down to k–

Fuck.

I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes sockets, exhaling audibly.

No. Not going there.

Becoming suddenly aware of how much time I had spent out here, I got up and decided to go back inside.

Back to pretending to care about what was going on on TV, back to restraining myself from smacking the unnamed boyfriend upside the head, but most of all – back to my girlfriend.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

"Linda's wearing a skirt."

Blinking rapidly, I raised my gaze from the returns I had been sorting to see that Linda was indeed wearing a skirt.

Cue imploding of brain.

Recovering a moment later, I turned to my albino co-worker only to find that his eyes were still glued to Linda, entirely enraptured. As funny as it was, I did have to admit that the look in his eyes – at least coming from Near – was quite creepy.

"Why, Near…" I took on a feigned-surprised tone as I put a hand to my chest. "I didn't even know you were sexually aware yet!"

The teenager in question reverted to his bored expression, spearing me with his coal-black eyes.

I smirked as I turned back to the work at hand. "Why don't you just ask her out already?"

From behind me I heard Near snort, and I just barely caught the muttered comment of, "You should be talking…"

I quirked an eyebrow at this, but nonetheless shrugged it off. He said nothing more after that, and so we both continued our work in silence. I noticed Near's gaze slide back to Linda every once in a while (subtlety wasn't exactly his forte; a quality in Near that irked Mello to no end) and I sunk into my thoughts.

It was funny; I'd never really expected Near to like anyone, much less that anyone turning out to be Linda. I suppose it was also biased reasoning on my part as Linda and I didn't exactly see eye to eye… but I just didn't see what Near did in her. She was bossy, short-tempered, called me out in front of others with the sole purpose of embarrassing me…

Generally, we got along just fine.

Except, you know, the ninety-five percent of the time that we didn't.

It wasn't always like this between us. We'd actually been friends in a very casual way (as it was the elementary years, I had to accept that I was a boy and therefore had cooties, and any prolonged exposure to me would greatly affect Linda's social standing within her group of fellow female children), and this had continued on up until junior high. That is, up until the most important party of Grade Seven (or so we all thought) came around and I, aiming to redeem myself after the whole embarrassing stint with Fish-lips, had kissed Linda in a game of spin the bottle.

It had been awkward at best; teeth clashing, noses bumping, and that mortifying moment when we both realized that neither of us had bothered to close our eyes.

And then, when we pulled away… Or rather, didn't pull away – because our braces were stuck together.

You can only begin to imagine the public humiliation that followed.

Afterwards, Linda and I had inevitably drifted apart, and she had become involved in activities such as "Teens for the Environment" and our school's student council. She also took an interest in unconventional art mediums such as food and scrap metal, and took a firm stance in favour of feminism.

Mello had joked, after Linda had brushed by us in the art hallway with her hair in multiple braids and her brown flip-flops making an audible schwick sound as she walked with renewed purpose, that I had all but turned her lesbian.

At the time, I had punched him as hard I could in the shoulder and told him to shut up.

I don't think she's ever really forgiven me for what happened, but then I again, neither had I. My shame was probably what made me hesitate where others might have gone on ahead as if they had nothing to hide in the face of Mello's questions at breakfast the other day, but my few events of having been kissed in my younger teens (he already knew about the incident with Linda, but who at school hadn't? It didn't count, however; spin the bottle and truth or dare game induced kissing was obligatory and in my experience, entirely unpleasant) were not something I was too proud of.

Over all, the experience was just something that Mello and I had agreed was better if we acted like it had never happened.

As for Linda, it appeared she hadn't gotten the memo – because she obviously still hated my guts for the public embarrassment she had undergone because of me.

I just had terrible luck with girls.

Now that I thought about it, I couldn't exactly fault Mello for not disclosing information about his relationships because I hadn't ever really filled him in on mine either. Not that I'd ever dated extensively, but I had a pretty average amount of experience – and I mostly kept that to myself. It just felt somehow wrong to talk about that sort of thing with him.

Obviously, he must feel the same way because the number of relationships he was rumoured to have had was exponentially larger than the number that I knew about.

Whatever – I suppose it doesn't matter.

The bell by the door chimed, cutting into my thoughts. In the off chance that it was the owner back from his trip to the bank, I immediately crouched behind the counter and began sorting the movies in the drop-off box like I was the epitome of productivity. Near, who had been actually doing his job this entire time, shot me a look and I stuck my tongue out at him in retaliation. With a roll of his eyes, he brought his attention back to the task at hand.

Yeah, that's right. You better look away.

As I didn't hear the sound of Linda racing across the store to make sure she was there on time to prostrate herself in front of him and kiss his shoes (an exaggeration by no small means, but she is still a little brown-noser), I realized that it probably wasn't the owner. Instead I heard loud footfalls approaching the counter, as if the person was wearing heavy footwear. Wait –

The person proceeded to smack the buzzer on the counter a bunch of times and I hit my head on the counter in my haste to get up.

As my vision swam, a familiar chuckle greeted my ears.

I got up slowly, holding onto the counter for support.

Of course, the image that greeted me was of a certain blond leaning casually against the counter with one finger still poised above the buzzer. If possible, the leather that he was decked head to toe in was even tighter than usual, as if he was seeing just how much he could manage without losing all blood circulation. The sunglasses he was wearing obscured his eyes, but the tooth-baring smirk that he was donning spoke volumes.

Fuckin' Mello.

I couldn't help the shit-eating grin that spread across my face.

He looked at me over the rim of his sunglasses. "Hey, Game Boy," he drawled. "Is that a DS in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?"

Laughing, I punched him half-heartedly in the arm. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Around." The smile he gave me was cryptic.

Just at that moment, Near popped up beside me. I noticed that he had finished sorting and was ready to push the cart full of movies out and restock the shelves.

"I know that you two are perfectly at ease with your strange relationship," – he eyed Mello's attire with thinly veiled disgust – "but can you wait until I have left the area to start up with your pseudo-homosexual banter?"

Mello smiled serenely and then flipped him the bird with a finger tipped with black nail polish. "Bite me, bitch."

Near snorted with derision. "Forgive me for not leaping at the chance; I might catch something."

The albino then shuffled off with the cart, muttering something about how Mello dressed worse than his older brother.

Now that was quite an accomplishment.

Farley River – known around here as "Far" as a play off of his younger brother's nickname – was an international supermodel. He had been in the same Grade as Light and L back when they were in high school, and it was in their Senior year that he had been spotted by a scout and offered a contract (Misa still had sour grapes about that; it had been her dream to be a model, as well, and instead she had been snubbed for a "pretty boy" as she called him). Even before he had gotten the contract, Far had been a celebrity around town; with his black hair, blue eyes, and natural charm he had captivated most of the female population. The whole town 'ooh'ed and 'ahh'ed when Far started appearing in commercials. He rose to fame quickly, and our small town buzzed with the knowledge that such a star came from our humble beginnings.

That's when the nude photos started showing up on the internet.

The supermarket checkout shelves were dominated with magazines bearing Far's photo and increasingly racy headlines. Every time Near came across one of these magazines, he got this dark, prudish look on his face. Needless to say, the whole town was scandalized – but on the international level, Far became a legend. At the age of twenty-one, he was still strutting up and down the catwalks of Tokyo and London like it was the only profession worth doing. Our town was forgotten – as well as Near. On his last birthday, all Near had gotten from his older brother was an unsigned card and a cheque for fifty dollars.

Yet another boy from our town with a reputation that proceeded him.

Mello beamed; I think he took Near's insult as some twisted form of a compliment.

To make matters worse, Linda also decided to butt her way in at that moment.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. What are you doing here?"

Mello pulled a face at me to show what he thought of the girl's presence, and then turned around to face her. There was only a smile on his face as he replied, "Why, renting a movie, my dear Linda."

Her hands were placed on her hips, and I knew at once that getting out of this would not be easy. "Then show me the movie."

Mello looked entirely underwhelmed by her attempt at intimidation. "'Haven't got to that yet. I came over to say hello to Matt, and he ended up hitting his head pretty hard on the counter. I think he might have a concussion; I should probably take him to get checked out by a professional."

Catching on, I proceeded to look off into the distance and kept blinking as if I couldn't focus my eyes properly. I swayed slightly on my feet for effect.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Her tone was saturated with incredulity.

"Just check the security tapes if you don't believe me. Besides, just look at how out of it he is!"

They both turned to look at me and I kept from meeting either of their eyes as if I wasn't even aware that they had been talking about me.

Linda deadpanned. "He looks the same as always."

… I resent that.

Still, I swallowed my retort and continued to try my best to keep up the ruse.

A few more moments of silence past while they examined my pretty-much-perfect impression of a zombie before Linda finally conceded. She probably just didn't want to get in trouble from the owner if I actually did have a concussion and ended up throwing up or keeling over later. Whether we had tricked her or not, we had gotten away with it.

Mello helped me out of the store and around to the back where Linda couldn't see us through the windows before he let me walk by myself. We reached his motorcycle and burst out into laughter.

Giddy with energy and feeling like we were in grade school again, I asked him, "What's next?"

He tossed a helmet at me and arched a brow with a smirk. "You have been formally invited to my house for a family dinner."

Now, that was the last thing I had been expecting…

I hopped on the bike behind him despite my surprise.

Never a dull moment, that's for sure.