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06.07.08


I have been awake for over an hour but the idea of actually getting out of bed isn’t really inviting. I normally lay here for hours after actually waking up. This is my hideout, my sanctuary; this is where I stay to avoid all my problems. Its only noon anyways, so why should I get up? Hell, I could lay here for a few more hours before anyone would bother coming to get me.
I can hear my mom walking around downstairs. She’s probably been up for a good 4 or 5 hours. Whatever, it’s not like she really wants me around her anyways. We don’t get along. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say we hate each other. I try to tolerate her but sometimes she just pisses me off.
In here everything seems so simple. My room is really pretty. My walls are a happy yellow and my bedding and curtains are red and orange. It seems so energized compared to the drab world outside. My life isn’t exactly fun at the moment. Actually it’s pretty much the opposite, although my mom would just say I’m full of too much angst.
Maybe I should just call Shane and say I’m not feeling too well. That way I won’t have to head to his house to hang out and he won’t feel that I ditched, even though I totally would be. I mean Shane’s great, and he’s one of my best friends but seeing his friends just makes me feel sick. I can’t stand being around them. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because there’s something obviously wrong with me. I do not fit in with them at all.
When I’m around them I can’t fucking talk. If I say anything it feels stupid and pointless and they look at me like I’m an idiot. I can’t stand it. Why can’t I just be funny and amazingly interesting? And as an added bonus why couldn’t I be one of those extraordinarily pretty girls? That would always help. But no I’m just one of those plain, boring people who are decent at everything but have lame interests that no one gives a shit about. I don’t have much to work with.
I don’t think that it helps that I’m pretty much in love with one of them. Well love is a huge over exaggeration but you get what I’m saying.
I always wonder why I think he’s so great or why I’m even attracted to him. Most people would probably say its indefinable. I, however, disagree. I know why I noticed him, but I wish that wasn’t why. It’s always the reason why I fall for boys and I wish that for once it could be different. I barely know him.
I never get to know a guy before I like him. Maybe I live on the notion that as I get to know him he’ll think I’m amazing and he’ll like me as well. Because what’s the chance that a guy will just suddenly like you when he’s known you forever and you haven’t changed? Practically zero. At least this way I can convince myself that I might stand a chance. The only problem with this is that I’m always the one who’s disappointed. He always turns out to be a jerk, or someone I would never be able to connect with.
But what really makes me notice a boy in the first place is when I think he has noticed me. Like when he looks at me for about a second longer than he looks at anyone else. Or when he actually sees you and takes notice. The only problem is that I always imagine that it happens, when it really never has.
I remember talking to him about something but I wasn’t really looking at him because at this point I hadn’t even noticed how amazing he was. Then I looked over at him and I don’t even know what happened. Magically I realized he was friggen gorgeous. He was looking at me like I was pretty and it made me feel pretty. I never feel pretty.
So that’s how it happened. Stupid isn’t it? I basically like him for how he made me feel, in that one split second. He doesn’t even look at me like that anymore, but all I keep remembering is that he did, once, and I probably just imagined it.
And that’s as far as my life has proceeded in these last 4 months. Nothing has happened. I have really been trying to get him to notice me, but I must be invisible.
The clock now says 12:45 and I know that I need to call Shane or else get the hell out of bed. Great, my phone isn’t even in the holder because I left it downstairs after talking to London.
London is my best friend. Well one of them. It’s nearly impossible to decide which one is actually the best. I mean seriously, what even defines a good friend? But that’s a whole other subject that I really don’t feel like exploring right now. I just know that I’m not one of them.
I’m really cold without my blanket and seeing as I’m really smart I’m only wearing a tank top and shorts. Thank god my slippers are right here so my feet don’t freeze. I leave my room and I jump down the last few stairs and nearly land on my dog. She runs away, her fat bouncing on her sides.
I go down another flight of stairs and go to the computer desk to find my phone. It’s not there. I shift the papers on the desk. Still no phone. I remember sitting on the couch last night while talking to London. I turn around, the phone isn’t there. I pull out the cushions, and voila! There’s my phone. Great, it’s been turned on all night and the battery is almost dead.
I go back up the stairs and stop in the living room to grab another phone. I dial Shane’s number. It rings once and he answers it. I always find that really strange, what does he do all day? Sit there and wait for people to phone him?
“Hi Shane.”
“Hey, when are you coming? Everyone else is already here”
“Uhh…. I’m not sure. I just woke up and I need to shower and get ready. I’m not feeling too hot right now.”
“Well I thought you and London were coming together?”
“Oh shit. I totally forgot she was coming. Ugh, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hang up and go back to my room and grab some clothes. I guess I’ll have to go because of London. Five minutes later I’m in the shower and the water is quickly warming me up. I wash my hair and quickly shave. I turn off the water and towel myself dry and wrap the towel around my head. I pull on some capris and a cute tank top. I walk over to the mirror.
I look at myself. As usual I don’t look too great. My face is red and broken out. I feel like crying. I reach over to the shelf and pull out my makeup. I quickly go to work covering up my imperfections. I powder my face. Now I don’t look so terrible. I grab some eyeliner and gently glide it along my top lashes. I pull out an eye shadow brush and sweep the wine coloured powder onto my eyelids, blending the colour up to my brows. I pull out the eyelash curlers and give them a quick curl.
My eyes are the only thing I like about my looks. They are a gorgeous blue or green depending on the day. Today they are blue and as I look at myself in the mirror they are the only thing you can possibly notice about my face. They have a great contrast to my dark brown hair and my eyelashes, which are super long, frame them perfectly.
I stand back and look at myself. Maybe today I’ll be noticeable. I doubt it though. I always feel like I’m just sort of there; in the way. I’m the sort of person you’d just walk by without actually looking at. I always envy those people who make you want to stare. I want to be one of those girls who can wear a Mohawk and combat boots with ease, with their piercings glittering at you. I want to be a punk rocker. Sadly, I’m not pretty enough to pull it off.
I grab my purse and pull on my high tops and book it out the door. I hate living in this crap neighborhood when all of my friends live elsewhere. I’m not one to want to spend any of my little cash on the bus so I’m stuck walking. I pull on my headphones and crank up my music. I flip through my songs until I find a particularly loud and angry one and I start to walk just a bit quicker.
These long walks always get me thinking, and today is no different. The music chooses my pace and thankfully most of my music is hard and fast so I don’t take ages to get there. As I listen to the songs I truly wish that I had some sort of musical talent. I love writing and poetry; creating metaphors and symbolisms and drawing an image in the reader’s mind. To me music is just like that. The words tell the story but the music manipulates your thoughts and changes your opinions. It sets the tone and mood and makes you consider their opinions differently. I love it.
I look up and notice I’m getting near my high school. I’m glad I’m out for the summer but I also miss the people I don’t see outside of school. I don’t particularly miss the classes though seeing as I’m a slacker and can’t manage my time whatsoever.
I turn my music to a slower song and slacken my pace a bit. I want to slow my body down before I get there. I really doubt he fancies panting girls with bright red faces. I compulsively start fiddling with my hair trying to tell if any of it has been blown out of place. I really can’t tell and start worrying that I might look stupid when I show up. I start chewing on my fingernails. They hurt, but I can’t stop. I look down and they’re uneven. I want to cry. I don’t know why, these stupid little things shouldn’t bother me.
I’m only two blocks away and I start to feel sick. I try to concentrate on my breathing and tell my body to calm down. It’s working a bit. I reach in my purse and grab some lip gloss and quickly apply it. It makes me feel more confident. My steps get bigger and I remember to act beautiful. If I pretend, I might be able to convince him that I actually am beautiful.
I walk up the steps and ring the doorbell trying to look nonchalantly away. I don’t want him to notice that I’ve noticed him. I want him to notice me because I’m me. I’m starting to confuse myself and try to stop my brain from making no sense. Before my thoughts have been able to rearrange themselves, Shane opens the door.
I can’t seem to breathe properly and I feel really sick. I somehow manage to force myself to smile at Shane and walk in the door. I make sure not to look into the living room in case he’s in there. I untie my shoes and kick them off. Then I turn and slowly walk into the living room, concentrating on not looking at him. I sit down. I quietly greet everyone and then I look at Shane and say in a slightly sardonic tone, “I was supposed to call London once I got here so she didn’t have to sit around with you lot and feel totally awkward.”
Shane smiled. He knew my sense of humour was bitchy-casual and went to get me a phone. I took it from him and dialed London. “Get your ass over here before I die. You know how much I fancy sitting around with this bunch of idiots.”
She laughed. “I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. I hope you can survive that long”
I hang up the phone. He says something. I accidentally look at him and I am blown away once again.
There he was. Tall, trendy and gorgeous. Aaron. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen. He was looking at me and I really hope that I didn’t give myself away. I notice my cheeks are turning pink and quickly look at my hands.
Five minutes of agony. I make sure not to even look in his general direction. I hear the doorbell and leap to my feet. I open the door and fling my arms around London. We both squeal with over exaggerated happiness. We want to look impressive.
She pokes her head inside and says, “Yeah we’ll just be outside for about 5 minutes, I need to talk to my gorgey pal.” I shut the door and we walk out into the middle of the lawn and sit down.
“So??? What’s in your brain at the moment??” I ask. I’m exceptionally curious as to what she has to tell me that can’t be heard by ‘The Lads’ as we refer to them.
“I just want to know if we’ve got any plans to trap the gorgeous blokes inside that house. I mean you’ve pretty much got it guaranteed that Aaron will be after you, but what about me? I’m pretty sure Cayden doesn’t even like me. Not even remotely. I need something to make him go ‘phwaaaa she’s gorgeous’.” I laugh at her craziness.
“Guaranteed that he’ll be after me? I’m pretty sure I ruined any hope of him wanting me at all. I mean he caught me looking at him. He’s bound to think I’m a creeper now. Plus boys don’t even like me so can you stop making it seem like every boy is madly in love with me?”
“Well honestly, you need to stop acting like they don’t. You have had countless boys following you around wanting to date you while I’ve been sitting here getting nothing. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“Well I hope you’re right but honestly, I barely know most of them, so why would I want to date them? Plus I’m sure lots of guys like you. They’re probably just too shy to tell you.”
“First off, you barely know Aaron so why do you want to date him? And secondly, I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I know guys don’t generally like me, which is why I need ideas, sooooo do you have any?”
“Just be funny and happy and smile a lot? I have no idea, I’m not an expert.”
“Fine, let’s try that and see what happens.”
I watch London stand up and plaster a huge smile on her face and start laughing. I follow her back to the house and we walk in together. We both start laughing as if we had just shared an awesome joke and I gently tug off my sweater to reveal my shoulders.
The Lads look up at us and I blush. Aaron is looking directly at me. I want him to look at me but at the same time I don’t. I’m scared that if he looks at me he might notice that I’m not pretty. I don’t want him to notice that.
I quickly pull my sweater back up realizing that I’m not comfortable with my body. I quickly zip it up and go into the kitchen. I feel like crying. Why can’t I just have a beautiful body that I could love? But no, I’m stuck with this crap one.
I grab a glass of water and walk back out into the living room. I purposefully walk to the opposite side of the room so I don’t have to sit next to Aaron or potentially talk to him. That would be disastrous. He’d probably think I’m some sort of annoying idiot.
I start talking to London and the conversation quickly turns to random funny moments that have happened to us. We both are laughing incredibly hard in order to appear interesting and amusing. When the guys ask us what we’re laughing at we just pretend we’re laughing too hard to speak. I don’t want them to know what we’re laughing at in case they don’t find it funny.
The guys start playing video games so we both stop laughing. We feel hurt because we’re being ignored. Why don’t they want to talk to us? Why don’t they like us? I feel like such a lame reject.
Shane walks over and starts to talk to us. He’s a nice guy, he really is, but we’re not interested in him in that way. I can’t really say why, but I’ve never been attracted to him.
He’s my shelter in situations like this. I talk to him because I can be comfortable around him and I rarely feel comfortable around guys. This is how it will be the entire time until we leave. We will talk to Shane until we leave and feel like shit because the guys we want don’t even see us.

~*~

I’m now sitting in the backseat of a car on my way to London’s house and London is sitting beside me. We never say much on the rides home because we don’t want her mom to hear us. We’re pulling up to her house and as the car stops we undo our seatbelts. I open the door and step carefully out of her car. I reach back in and grab my purse and then firmly close the door.
I’m behind London as she opens the door into her porch and we go inside and take off our shoes.
We take off towards the stairs and practically leap down the whole flight.
“Want some chips or something? Pop maybe?” London asks me.
“Sure”
I collapse on the futon and start digging through my bag. I pull out my journal and start writing a poem but I get stuck. I look at the paper and realize the words mean nothing and quickly scratch them out. I close my journal and chuck it on the floor......


To be continued..