I'll Be Your Girl

It’s crazy, how one little moment can turn the world upside down. All rational thought is lost, only to be replaced by anger, hurt, despair. The truth is forgotten in a rush of emotions and what does this affect? Everything.

I think about this as I sit locked in my room, staring into nothing. I decided not to go to school today, figuring it wasn’t the wisest option. Not if I’d see Elise or her squad or anyone at all, for that matter. Mum’s not home from work yet. It’s just me. Here. Alone.

It was nothing short of a full-blown drama between Nick and me this morning, and no matter what I do, my mind will not stray from it. So he lied to me. So I’m hurt. Did it require such a reaction?

My mind goes back to when we were kids, playing together. Young Remy’s a boisterous ball of flying limbs, who never wears frocks or ties her hair in plaits like all the other girls at pre-school. Nick’s sensitive and mature, even then. But he always giggles at my stupid faces and puts mud in my shoes when I’m not looking. We both cringe when people kiss in movies, and tease Joe and Kevin about their girlfriends. How could he not be my bestest best friend?

But then I think of Nick and Elise’s friendship. She takes his hand and he blushes, and the first song he writes is secretly for her, but he never dares to tell anyone. She plays weddings with him, and he grins widely when she twirls in her pretty dress. He calls her beautiful.

“Rem, you look beautiful.”

“Shut up. You’re turning soft, y’know?”

I come running to him yet again. The girls at school have drawn nasty pictures of me and passed them around to the rest of the grade. Nick wraps an arm around my shoulder and leans our heads together until the tears stop. He rubs my back soothingly then grins, telling me about his new BeyBlades and do I wanna play with his favourite one?

“Wow Remy, I didn’t know you could be so… feminine.”

Elise never cries. She always gets Nick the best presents because her dad’s the best lawyer in town. She buys him the newest boy toys, but he never tries to make her play Pokémon cards with him, ‘cause that’s just not what real girls do. Nick’s too afraid to talk to her about the way she teases me, in case she gets angry and never comes around anymore. He’d hate that, because he likes the softness of her hair and the dimples in her cheeks.

I bite my lip and stand up swiftly, accidentally knocking a framed picture off my bedside table. It tumbles to the floor and I hear a tiny, painful crack as something smashes. I reach down and turn it over, only to find that the glass has been smashed, the broken lines distorting the picture it protects. Me, a few years ago. My face is rounder and my hair stands about two inches off my head, scruffed up at all different angles. The clothes I wear are baggy, in an attempt to disguise the extra weight underneath them. I look like a boy.

Great, no wonder Nick was so in love with Elise. She showed him what girls were supposed to be, rather than the disgrace I’d become.

“Remind me to never take her out for dinner.”

I hear another crash and realise that the picture’s flown from my hand to collide with the wall on the other side of my room. Did I do that? Jeez, that… that felt good. I turn around and kick the my bedframe with all the strength I can muster. It hurts my foot, but it’s a good kind of pain. Letting out a bark of laughter, I run at the opposite wall. There’s a loud thud on impact, then I collapse to the floor and feel a sharp pain shoot through my shoulder. I’ve landed on the picture - the glass is digging into my skin, and I immediately sober up when I see the blood.

God, what am I doing? I begin to panic and run for the bathroom, stepping under a freezing cold shower. Get a grip, Remy. The world’s not over because of Nick. I stay there for a few minutes just to make sure I’ve washed all the crazy off me, then step out, clutching a towel to my bleeding shoulder. It’s then that I hear my cell start ringing and I tentatively look at the caller ID.

Joe.

Not Nick. Because it’s stupid to think that wonderful, deep, intense, best friend Nick would even think of calling me to try and make things better. I mean, we only grew up together.

I answer anyway, lifting the phone with my injured arm while I continue to clutch my shoulder with the towel. “Yeah?”

“What, no hello?” he jokes on the other end, although I know his tone has forced humour in it. I stay silent, not really knowing what to say to him right now. He watched me storm out of his house this morning, completely clueless as to what went down between me and Nick. How do you explain that, especially when Nick’s already fed him his side of the story? Joe seems to be waiting for me to say something, but when he realises that I’m not going to, he coughs awkwardly. “Hey, uh… wanna come over tonight?”

I hesitate, biting my lip. “Did Nick--?”

“Nick won’t be here,” Joe confirms quickly. “He’s going… out, tonight.”

Yeah, I’m not completely stupid, but it’s nice that Joe’s trying to protect my feelings. “Out to Elise’s concert,” I sigh dejectedly. It’s alright, I’m fine. If that’s where Nick wants to be, I’m okay with it. We all know where he’ll have more fun, anyway.

“…Yeah,” Joe says uneasily. There’s an awkward pause, then: “So, how about it?”

I contemplate his request. On one hand, I don’t think I can stand being around people at the moment. Then again, this is Joe. If anyone understands me right now, it’s him. “I’ll make hot cocoa…” he tempts, and despite everything I feel myself beginning to smile.

“Are there mini marshmallows?” I ask in a small voice.

“What kind of world would we be living in if there weren’t?” Joe scoffs, the humour in his voice coming easier now.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal, Mr Jonas.”

“Care to dance, Mr Jonas?”

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Holloway.”

No, shut up memories. I can’t let them bring me down… at least for now.