Slutgarden

Alexx’s POV

I stared at Alecia through my fried bright pink hair, watching her run the hot iron through her soft, luscious, straight, thick, blue hair. I was so insanely jealous as to how the fuck her hair looked so healthy and had so much body to it, when she fried it everyday, and bleached and dyed it on top of that. It almost amazed me, as to how it stayed in the same condition it was as when I first met her.

Shoulder-length, wavy, and a deep dark brown, it stayed its gorgeous and shiny condition through all the ways she had had it. Black, blonde, red, blue, green, short, long, it always stayed that same luscious state.

“How does your hair stay so…perfect?” I finally asked her after running the question through my own mind before asking her myself. She looked at me in the mirror, smiling and pausing for a moment, then returning to her hair. “Do you really want me to tell me the secret?”

I began to sit closer to the edge of the bed, I had been anticipating this moment for at least a year now, as pathetic as that sounded. I hated how many split ends I had, and how fried my hair looked.

“Wash your hair in beer three times a week for one week, then switch to eggs, then yogurt. Keep going through the cycle, and your hair will look amazing, I fucking shit you not.”

I almost wanted to laugh. No way in hell was I going to put that shit in my hair. I didn’t comment on it though, I didn’t want to make her mad. After a few moments of silence, I decided to break it.

“So, this party will be pretty fucking epic. Derek and Harley’s parents are going to be leaving, and Derek is having a sort of homecoming party.”

I laughed at the ending, envisioning Derek’s reactions if he had heard me put his name and “homecoming” in the same sentence together.

“Harley. How come I have never met her? Aren’t you and her like…best friends?”

“Yeah. Aimee too. They’re really sweet chicks.”

Alecia unplugged her hair straightener and looked up at me, a malicious and playful smirk was on her red stained lips. Almost as if there was a connection between the two, her deep brown eyes began to twinkle and widen, like a little girl on Christmas morning.

“Alecia. I’m pretty sure Harley and Aimee are both straight, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Her and I both began to laugh. I walked over to her mirror and looked at my reflection, fussing with my vintage Van Halen shirt, tugging it down and adjusting it so the seams were perfectly on my sides, and re-adjusting my bullet belt, the faux bullets were cold to the touch.

Alecia was changing into a light pink baby doll dress with a black studded leather jacket. She looked at me, a questioning look on her face. I smiled and nodded, approving of her choice.

As we left her house, the typical impact of realizing Alecia lived alone hit me. That was yet another thing I wondered about her, how did she come home most days after school, to an empty house? No mother, no father, not even a pet living with her .It nearly worried me, wondering what constant isolation at home could do to a person.

But alas, every time I would talk to her about it, she would state the same repetitive sentence. ”I’d rather live alone, and be lonely, than live with others, and always be in fear.” Which always hit me as well, as to how hard the abuse had impacted her, almost forcing her into the quarantined life of…loneliness.

I always felt that way at school. Alone. As though I had nobody to turn to except my few friends, which were either the druggies, freaks, or loners of the school. Which sucked so hard. I used to be kind of popular. I talked to the preppy and ghetto girls, but never the prep or jock boys. Although sometimes I did have conversations with the ghetto boys. But when all the rumors started, thanks to whoever the hell it might be, I began to be seen as though I was just like Jeremy, and I began to be either avoided by all the girls or guys I wanted, or sought after the sex-hungry sluts in the school.

I felt like…that was all anybody ever wanted from me. Sex sex sex. Like, I didn’t have a meaning in anyone’s life. Or that nobody could ever love me. Like the people that do say they “love” me, either are friend-zoning me, saying it to get into my pants, or just flat-out don’t mean it.

So maybe…love doesn’t exists.

*

Alecia’s POV

As we stepped into the house, the familiar smell of alcohol, body sweat, and cigarettes infused my nostrils. An equally noticeable sensory stimulant decides to arouse my hearing senses, the sound of loud, blasting club music, by some musician I didn’t recognize. I heard several greetings shouted at me, I smiled a fake grin in the voices’ general directions, hoping the right person would see them.

Alexx was standing in front of me, his tall slim figure was noticeable in the crowd, so he was quite easy to follow. On the way over here, I had nearly begged him to introduce me to Harley and Aimee, hoping I could flip them.

He looked back at me, winking and looking back over in the direction we were walking. Two average height girls stood there, who had paused their conversation to make note of Alexx. The one on the left had long, perfectly black hair and a black dress on with grayish-black leggings and black boots, the other had straight yet messy long hair, which was slightly shorter than the raven’s. The redhead was wearing ripped skinny jeans with a pair of moccasins, a cute tank top, and a beanie.

He stepped to the side to allow me to step towards the group, smiling especially in the direction of the raven. Her cheekbones were absolutely perfect, and her large, brown eyes were shining in the light of the few lights in the room, but the poor lighting was enough for them to sparkle. “Alecia, this is Harley,” he said, gesturing to the girl I had been noticing so well, “and Aimee.”

Aimee was the redhead. Although she was cute, I really preferred Harley. She was so…rebellious looking. Like she belonged in an anarchy rally with spiked hair and an entire metal-works of piercings on her gorgeous face, but unlike most people there, she had no metal adorning her.

She was almost dangerously gorgeous. I felt as though she was too good to be true, that she would inflict trouble or pain.

“Hello.” I said with a smile, my eyes meeting with Harley’s. My heart skipped a beat. She…was so beautiful.