I Can Taste The Failure On Your Lips

“So what’s the story between yeh and yeh tattooed friend?” Kaite asked over our lunch break.

I looked up from my salad and shrugged. “It’s complicated.” I said.

“What’s so complicated about it? How to snag a hot guy covered in ink; first, yeh take off all yeh clothes. Two, yeh screw ‘im.” If there was one thing I learned about Kaite, it was that she was a sex addict. It was mostly all that she talked about, and apparently it was mostly all her and her boyfriend Aaron did.

“Kaite…” I said. She only shrugged her shoulders and widened her eyes as if to say ‘what I’m only tellin’ yeh the truth.’ “He’s just, I don’t know, different.”

“How’d yeh reckon?”

“It’s hard to explain.” I sighed, again.

“I doubt that. But, hey, if yeh don’t want to talk about it, then don’t. I’m only tryin’ to ‘elp yeh.”

“For eighteen years I’ve liked the magazine model guys with the six packs and the blonde tips.” She made a gag face and I chuckled. “Exactly. I come here and it’s like, I’m not the weird girl. I’m actually making more than one friend. I’m hanging out with people. Guys are actually texting my cell phone. And then… there’s Oli.” I took a sip of my water. “I’ve only really had one real conversation with him, and he’s like, stuck inside my head. It’s completely pathetic because I’m supposed to hate the guy. I mean, he was such a jerk, or in my opinion he was. Curtis said he was just ‘shy’, but come on, what’s there to be shy about?”

“What the most pathetic part is, the other day, I went to another ‘band practice’ and everyone was drinking and what not, and I actually wanted to join in. I thought that maybe if I started drinking and fitting in with them, he would notice me. But, I didn’t, because even though he is so gorgeous, he isn’t worth it. But when I think about it, I mean, really think about it, I wonder if he is.” I said, taking a long breath.

“Wow.” Was all that Kaite said. She pushed her sandwich away from her and crossed her arms and legs. “Yeh only had one real conversation with him?”

“If you can count a three minuet exchanging of words a conversation, then yes.” I replied.

“And yeh already got that many problems?”

“Yes! Well, I have the problems… he probably doesn’t care.”

“Well, that’s a guy for yeh.”

We both got up and threw out our lunch. We were silent, but it wasn’t awkward. We were both thinking. She was probably thinking of an answer to my problem, or sex.

“Hey, yeh want to go to a party with me Friday night?” She asked, breaking our silence. I had never been to a party in my life, so I was quick to accept her invitation. “Good. Judging on the clothes yeh wearin’ yeh probably got shit in yeh closet.” I nodded. “I’ll pick yeh up and yeh can wear something of mine.”

“Are you sure, you are taller than me. I don’t want to wear a pair of jeans and drown in them.” I replied.

“Oh, yeh won’t be wearin’ jeans.” She smiled.

===

I called Jordan only to have her tell me that I would have to deal with it on my own because she was having problems of her own. I made Petunia dinner, and joined her in watching Baywatch. It was then as Mr. Bucannon was running down the beach to save someone, that phone started to ring.

“Hello?” It was Curtis.

“Yeh ‘ave a nice chat with Oliver, yeah?” He asked.

“Remind me to kill you next time I see you.” I replied.

“Why? Yeh said yeh needed to talk with ‘im.” He said. “I told yeh I’d tell ‘im.”

“You could have forgotten.”

“Oh well, yeh want to go to a party on Friday?”

“I’ve already been invited somewhere.” I replied.

“By who?”

“I have other friends.”

“Surprising.” He replied.

I hung up on Curtis. It was almost time for him to start practicing anyways, so I was doing him a favor. I turned my phone off, pulled a blanket off of the back of the couch, and continued to watch Baywatch with my grandmother