Uneasy Hearts Weigh The Most

The next morning I stopped off at Aubergine’s house as per arranged the night before over the phone. Have you ever met someone you could just spend forever talking on the phone to and you never ran out of things to say? Aubergine and I are the perfect example of that.

I had decided while on the phone with her, discussing nonsense like how our principal, Mr. Gibbon’s ass is so huge you could fit an entire flock of sheep between his cheeks and he wouldn’t even notice, that I would forget all about Grayson and give it my best shot with winning her over. After all, she had only known him for a day and is not the type of girl to rush into things without giving it a second thought.

She was waiting for me on her porch, sitting delicately on one of the rocking chairs. She stood up and approached me and I had full view of her outfit: a black denim mini-skirt, black and purple striped cardigan, red tights, and black ass-kicking knee-high boots. She also had on faint red lipstick and black eyeliner on her eyelids. The whole thing worked so perfectly together, making her look even better than she normally does, which I didn’t think was possible or easy to do. I know people always say that guys don’t care what girls wear, that all they really care about is a girl’s face, but I’m not that way. Maybe it’s because my best friend is a girl and so I’m used to her talking about clothes. Either way, she looked hella good. And so I decided to start my mission of getting her to be my girl by telling her so:

“You look good today, Aub,” I complimented.

“Thanks,” she murmured before blushing and glancing down at the ground.

“What?” I said, noticing some discomfort. “You really do look good.”

“My mom said I looked skanky before I left. That was why I was waiting outside.”

“Well fuck her,” she glanced up abruptly, hurt in her eyes. “I mean, you wear whatever you want, your clothes should only matter to you.”

“You’re right, Zac. Thanks.” Oh, you can thank me for a lot more than that if you want to. I can do whatever you want me to.

“No problem,” I said instead.

“So I talked to Grayson last night,” she began, already ruining my day by bringing him up. “On the computer.”

“When?”

“After you left.”

“How did he get your screen name?”

“Oh, I gave it to him.” No, no, no!

“Well what did he say?”

“That he appreciated the lunch thing and then us walking him home.”

“Oh, yeah, well, that was no problem of course.”

“Really? Because I didn’t get the impression you were very fond of him.”

Damn, she caught me. “Well, you know how it takes me a little while to befriend people.”

“Zac, we became best friends in about five minutes. The same exact thing happened when you met Deon. I was there, I remember.”

“Well, that was a while ago! What’s to say I haven’t changed my ways and I’m corrupted by society into not trusting people quickly?”

She turned to me and narrowed her eyes until I could barely see her pupils. The scrutinizing look coming from her was never good.

“Fine, I’ll give him a chance,” I mumbled unhappily.

“See? That’s my Zac,” she encouraged with a bright smile. I responded by wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her to my side. Since I did this often, it was nothing out of the ordinary and I could get away with having her close to my body and not needing to give any explanation. The warmth of her body as we walked leisurely to school reminded me how I needed to get around to asking her out or at least seeing if she had remote attraction towards me.

Xxx

The first few periods of the day (US History again, I freaking hate that class so much it’s ridiculous, math, which has never been one of my favorites, and chemistry, which isn’t too bad) without a study hall absolutely dragged on, and by the time lunch arrived I was eager to sit peacefully and engage in one of my favorite pastimes – eating, obviously. What guy do you know that doesn’t like to barrel down mouthfuls of pizza or hot wings? None, I’m willing to bet.

But of course Grayson had to be gracing us with his presence again. Fantastic. I did promise Aubergine I would give him a chance though, and so I sucked it up when I sauntered over to our usual lunch table where Amelia and Derrick were already sitting with aforementioned Grayson. I all but threw my paper bag lunch down onto the table in front of the seat across from Derrick, evidently not quite so good at hiding my internal emotions.

“What’s with the anger and rage, Zac?” Derrick asked as I pulled out the plastic blue chair faded with age and had been face-to-face with countless asses. “Mrs. Hunter being a bitch again?”

“Oh, yeah,” I trailed off, but my history teacher was not the problem. For obvious reasons I couldn’t tell him what the problem was. “She was just doing her normal bitch stuff and whatever.”

“Maybe you should stop talking such shit about her all of the time,” Amelia suggested after swallowing a bit of her peanut butter and fluff sandwich.

“You would understand if you had her,” I pointed out, which was true “ask Deon.”

She shrugged in response and turned her attention back to her sandwich.

No more speaking occurred until Aubergine and Della entered the cafeteria, and I could tell even from how far away we were that they were giggling hysterically – over what I didn’t exactly know, since they had just had gym and most girls loathe gym. I think it has something to do with getting too sweaty and runny makeup? I don’t know; that obviously doesn’t bother me.

“Hey guys,” Della sighed as the two of them plopped down into identical discolored chairs as the same I was sitting in, and began tearing into their lunches immediately, not wasting any time.

“How was gym?” I asked sarcastically, to which they both rolled their eyes dramatically and gave no kind of verbal response – it simply wasn’t needed.

I took a quick glance over Aubergine while everyone else’s attention was focused on something else – or at least I tried to make it during a time when their attention was elsewhere. She still looked just as good as she did that morning when I picked her up at her house, only her makeup was slightly faded (from a combination of the time span and gym added together). I like her face better without makeup though because it lets her real beauty shine through. I know that sounds really cheesy but it’s true. Eyeshadow is obviously not natural on anyone. I believe in it on special occasions and every once and a while, but not every day. I’m not attracted to girls like that at all. If they can’t show their real face to the world, then what’s to say they’re not showing their real personality too?

“Zac?” Della’s voice shook me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?” I glanced nonchalantly over to her as though I hadn’t been thinking about the parallels between girls wearing makeup and how shallow or not they are.

“Did you ask your dad about that job yet?” Della had been wanting to get a job for quite some time now to supplement her birthday and holiday gift income. As it would happen, my Dad owns a small business – a local place where tutors can either come and rent out space to give lessons to kids, or be one of the few regular tutors at the office. It requires a decent amount of paperwork, surprisingly, as well as maintenance to clean up the rooms and such.

“Oh, no I didn’t, I’m sorry, when I came home the other night his hand was bleeding violently and my Mom was flipping a shit, so I totally forgot to ask.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugged off. Whenever you get a chance.”

“Do any of you know where B7 is?” Grayson asked out of the blue.

“Yeah, it’s on the first floor all the way at the opposite end of the building,” Derrick answered. “I think it’s guidance counseling?"

“Yeah, that makes sense. I got a note taped to my locker today telling me to go there when I have a few minutes.”

“They probably want to see how you’re making it so far,” Amelia suggested. “You know, to make sure no one has shanked you yet.”

We all chucked because that wasn’t something that was likely going to happen at our school, but teachers and administrators are always paranoid about that sort of thing. They’re probably terrified of all the paperwork that injured minors entail with their…well, injuries.