Not the Other Way Around
Chapter 3
Rewind to James, Rebecca, Sam and I walking to that place. The one that matters. The home to confessions, not to fucks. Finding the swing someone had made wrapped high up in the brances of a tree. James climbing to get it.
I should explain the interesting phenomenon of James and Rebecca. In this story they play the roles of best friends to Sam and I, lovers according to the outside world, tempestuous but caring. There comes a point where people are known for who they "love", like, or just plain know, in that way. Where Sam becomes "Sam&Anna", where Rebecca becomes "James&Rebecca". Sometimes you end up known as "Anna that sleeps around" or "Anna who fucked that guy on a toilet" or "Anna that gave Jason Robinson head under the stairs at school". Those Native American names aren't always accurate. James and Rebecca couldn't have been more opposite in the grand scheme of things, but what brings them together is their similarities. While he's happiest with her and first to declare love, she plays the skeptic to his true believer and is first to declare that, for her at least, love is bullshit. It's the way she's just staying with it til it's over that will keep then together longer than any promise of eternity.
James is the reckless type. But the only thing he'd really die for is Rebecca. He might run into moving cars and join BB gun wars and jump out of windows and snort anything going (that's still legal) but he's immortal while she's in his life. (Cheesy as it sounds).
Rebecca is too young to be a cynic, too young to not be a virgin, sweet 16 and never been kissed. Blonde, curly haired and the most innocent smile you could ever see. But cynic she is, non-virgin she is, and kissed she most certainly has been. Nothing is a "big deal" to her, at least not on the outside. Her emotions don't exist to be seen, they stay inside her til she runs into a pole, gets a concussion and bawls her eyes out. But if you're privy to a single glance behind that mask, you'll see that there's a girl who wants a lot more than she allows herself to have.
Fast forward to that fateful sunday in that fateful spot.
The tears have stopped falling and I'm feeling better. He asks the same question again and this time he's earned it. He took care of me, he gets a little back.
I'll spare you what happened next, dear reader. For the usual tangle of arms and legs, of real moans and fake moans and of adolescent exploration is nothing scintillating enough to be worth your time.
But please stay tuned for what happened next.
I should explain the interesting phenomenon of James and Rebecca. In this story they play the roles of best friends to Sam and I, lovers according to the outside world, tempestuous but caring. There comes a point where people are known for who they "love", like, or just plain know, in that way. Where Sam becomes "Sam&Anna", where Rebecca becomes "James&Rebecca". Sometimes you end up known as "Anna that sleeps around" or "Anna who fucked that guy on a toilet" or "Anna that gave Jason Robinson head under the stairs at school". Those Native American names aren't always accurate. James and Rebecca couldn't have been more opposite in the grand scheme of things, but what brings them together is their similarities. While he's happiest with her and first to declare love, she plays the skeptic to his true believer and is first to declare that, for her at least, love is bullshit. It's the way she's just staying with it til it's over that will keep then together longer than any promise of eternity.
James is the reckless type. But the only thing he'd really die for is Rebecca. He might run into moving cars and join BB gun wars and jump out of windows and snort anything going (that's still legal) but he's immortal while she's in his life. (Cheesy as it sounds).
Rebecca is too young to be a cynic, too young to not be a virgin, sweet 16 and never been kissed. Blonde, curly haired and the most innocent smile you could ever see. But cynic she is, non-virgin she is, and kissed she most certainly has been. Nothing is a "big deal" to her, at least not on the outside. Her emotions don't exist to be seen, they stay inside her til she runs into a pole, gets a concussion and bawls her eyes out. But if you're privy to a single glance behind that mask, you'll see that there's a girl who wants a lot more than she allows herself to have.
Fast forward to that fateful sunday in that fateful spot.
The tears have stopped falling and I'm feeling better. He asks the same question again and this time he's earned it. He took care of me, he gets a little back.
I'll spare you what happened next, dear reader. For the usual tangle of arms and legs, of real moans and fake moans and of adolescent exploration is nothing scintillating enough to be worth your time.
But please stay tuned for what happened next.