This War Paint

Butch


I hovered there, somewhere between the cafeteria floor and heaven. There was blood on my fingers, her blood, and I was rocking back on my heels to stop myself from lashing out. But then Jane was too close, her warmth smothering me and tempting me into a merciful kind of suicide. I just wanted to gather her up into my arms and protect her from everything. And the fact that she was hurt drove me nearly to the edge of insanity.

She stared at me with big, doleful eyes. What would she say if she knew about David’s car? Would she be pleased? I needed to see her smile, both my palms reaching down to cup her cheeks and smooth away imagined tears.

Jane started to smile, as if I had asked her myself, as if my touch made her happy. I listened to her words in my head again and felt my anger dissolve down into my feet, out of my soles, into the hard ground. I meant something to her – no matter how small or insignificant – I meant something. She had no idea that she had always meant everything, but right now I would settle for something. That was so much better than nothing.

The cafeteria was dead. Nobody dared enter, not since all of the excitement and commotion was happening in the parking lot. David was no doubt throwing a tantrum and harming any poor kid who happened to be standing just a little too close. I half wished I was there too, watching his pretty boy face twist and turn into the ugly little thing I knew him to be. I had Jane, though, sat down before my crouching figure where I could touch her. I’d been craving this all day, long before Mandy’s nasty words and my half conceived plan, and it was better than David Armstrong.

“Say something?” she pleaded, shying away from my hands so the great fists fell back into my lap.

“I don’t know what to say, Jane,” I murmured softly.

“Anything. Tell me that I’m not just some crazy girl who’s stupid for thinking that we’re anything more than strangers. Tell me that you feel exactly the same way. Tell me that we’re friends despite David and my parents and your reputation.”

Friends? I struggled with the word, not because I didn’t have friends already, but because this silly, silly girl would never be my friend.

“Sure, love, all of that,” I smiled slowly, heaving up my cheek muscles, telling myself to be soft for her. I had always been hard, all jagged edges and blunt ends, but for her I wanted to be smooth. I needed her to reach out for me without recoiling.

She seemed to deflate in front of me, getting smaller, visibly slumping as if exhausted.

“Now what’s all this about pretending with Armstrong?” I asked, body already poised to lift her right up if she fell. “I like the sound of him meaning nothing.”

“He does. He does mean nothing – less than nothing – I fucking hate him! Please, Fraser, I don’t want him to touch me again,” she shook her head, glorious hair spreading around her like a fallen halo.

“What the hell has he done to you?” I growled.

“Nothing... I just can’t stand the guy, he creeps me out.”

She was lying, my Jane was a terrible liar, but I didn’t call her out. I’d get it out of her eventually. And then, no doubt, David would be on more dangerous things than my shit list. A hospital waiting list for another spleen perhaps.

“I only pretended to like him but I can’t do it anymore.”

I allowed my legs to drop out beneath me, sinking to the ground beside her, feeling the cold ceramic through my jeans. Subconsciously, her body shifted to mirror mine so we were closer than before, her knee resting millimetres from my own. I couldn’t help but lean into her too.

“Why would you pretend that, Jane? What has he got over you, what is he blackmailing you with? It’s plain to see he’s behind this, that conniving, slimy bastard. I swear if he hurt you...”

My anger was back, double fold. Her ear wasn’t bleeding anymore but there was a dried, red smudge across her cheek from where one of us had smeared it. I could still feel it on my fingertips even though I had since wiped my hands on my jeans. People should know by now that nobody touched a hair on this beauty queen’s head, not if they wanted their heads to remain attached to their bodies.

“I can’t tell you...” she trailed off, unknowingly fuelling me back up to the brim.

“Tell me, sweetheart you know you can trust me.”

“It’s not that, Fraser, I just... I will tell you, I promise, but not right now, not here, like this.”

I sighed but it was frustration at myself and not her. No matter what she said, she didn’t trust me enough yet and I couldn’t blame her. This morning I had acted like a Neanderthal. I’d scooped up the nearest pretty girl and stomped off to leave her to fend for herself with that asshole. I should have known by the way Jane’s hands had lain dead at her sides as Armstrong kissed her that something wasn’t right. When we’d kissed her hands had been in my hair. Burning me. Scorching me all over.

“Do you forgive me for lying to you and making that scene this morning? I’ve been a horrible person today to you, and... and I’m starting to think you’re becoming my best friend.” I looked deep into her blue eyes as she spoke, nuzzling her bottom lip between her teeth nervously. “I trust you, and I tell you things I haven’t told anyone before. I meant what I said – you really mean something to me – even if I’m not quite sure what yet.”

I couldn’t help myself. Sitting on the freezing cafeteria floor, half beneath a table with chewing gum sticking to the bottom, I reached out to wrap an arm around her waist. I pulled her close, even closer, our bodies pressing together gently. She let out a big sigh and rested her head onto my shoulder. I could have died I was so happy. This girl had me a mess, a great big ball of emotions, some sappy loser who barely remembered his own name.

I was happy, though, because her warm breath was fanning out against my neck and her curls were spilling down my shoulder.

And I meant something.

“There was never anything for me to forgive, sweetheart,” I grinned, finding I liked the term of endearment almost as much as her lovely name.

“You’re too good to me, Fraser.”

I just chuckled, wondering how anything could be too good for her. My arm tightened slightly so her length was deliciously snug at my side. We shared a few minutes of silence with her quiet chatter about everything and nothing in particular. It was as if neither of us realised we were still in the middle of the empty cafeteria and the bell was seconds away from ringing. I realised, I just didn’t give a shit.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” she asked suddenly.

“Hm?” I gazed at her, somewhat dazed and definitely more than a little enticed by her lips.

“Are you going to tell me what you did and why everyone left the cafeteria in such a hurry? And why nobody’s even come back yet?” she smirked.

“I don’t know,” I had a smirk of my own. “Why do you think you deserve to know?”

“I think I definitely deserve to know. I’ve claimed the title of your best friend now – best friends should share evil plans to get nasty boys out of cafeterias.”

I laughed, hand dusting up and down her arm. She filled me up with this, joy I think it was, she made me light and airy and so unlike Butch. I could deal with her thinking about being my best friend. I didn’t think to tell her Max had that position more than covered or that I’d be the worst best friend to her. I’d break all the friend rules; no kissing, no touching, no falling in love.

“If you must know, sweetheart, I had Maximillion key our friend Armstrong’s precious car. And if I’m not mistaken he has by now probably spoken to the Principal demanding my head on a silver platter for ruining his baby. And they are most likely on their way here right now not knowing that there’s no way I can be guilty for this crime.”

She stared at me, stunned. Everyone knew David Armstrong loved that car like it really was his child, a posh, expensive Porsche that I had once looked at in the wrong way – resulting in being rounded on in a corner of the school and beaten up by seven of David’s cronies. Or rather, confronted by David’s cronies as I made most of them shit their pants in terror.

I had spoken to Max about everything. He understood my need to get that asshole as far away from Jane as possible, not just so I could speak to her, but to make that pretty little frown of hers disappear. He’d been only too happy to have an excuse to mar the most expensive car in our parking lot. He had a talent for destroying expensive things, and keying was his favourite method of choice.

I’d told him to be as creative as he wanted. After all, there was no way they were going to pin this crime on me.

“Come on,” I stood and offered a hand down to help Jane up. She took it and jostled into me as I used too much of my strength, both of us using the other to balance, our hands suddenly everywhere.

“Alright bad boy,” she laughed, taking a small step back. “I really can’t believe you would have your friend do that.”

“Armstrong deserves everything he gets.”

“I do have to agree with you there,” she graced me with her perfect, happy smile. I lost myself all over again.

I leant down to be closer to her height and brushed my lips oh-so-gently across her forehead. I felt her sag, body swaying slightly so I used my own to steady her. I lingered there, kissing her again, wondering how far I could push this, and thinking that the feel of her skin was the most blissful in the world.

The sound of the cafeteria doors slamming back against the walls had my head jerking up, already hunched protectively over Jane. David Armstrong strode towards us, flanking the Principal, both of them looking ready to combust with rage. I smiled, a great big mocking smile. Jane clung to me tightly as I angled her behind me, hands clawing at my shirt.

“Gentlemen,” I was tempted to bow but thought that my insolence then would be too obvious. Now was all about being subtle.

“Cut the crap, Butch,” Armstrong spat. “We know what you did to my... my car!”

“It appears, Mr Swank, that you’ve been vandalising personal property again. And to Mr Armstrong here no less,” the principal started in his droll voice.

“Vandalising? He’s bloody destroyed my baby! How am I supposed to drive her when she looks like that? That’s a hundred thousand dollar car, ruined, because of this fucking loser!”

“I haven’t done a thing to your... baby,” I smiled wider, loving the abandoned anger all over David’s face. Loving that he wasn’t in control for once, and that he had let his calm facade completely go.

“His car remains vandalised and everyone seems to be pretty certain that you are the culprit here,” the old man continued as if David hadn’t even spoken.

“You’re the only one stupid enough to key ‘cock sucker’ on my car!” he roared, perfect blonde hair frizzing up as if electrified by his anger.

I stifled a laugh. Oh Max, ever the original. From behind me I could feel Jane shaking too, and I had a feeling this time it was due to amusement.

“Look, I didn’t do anything. I spent all of the first part of lunch doing detention time again, working in those boys’ bathrooms. If you don’t believe me ask Mr Davis, he was there monitoring me, and will vouch as an alibi. As much as you’d like it to be me responsible, this time it just isn’t the case,” I shrugged. Untouchable.

“I call bullshit,” Armstrong seethed but the principal was holding a hand up to silence him.

“I will speak to Mr Davis and ask him if this is true. In the meantime, boys, I don’t want to hear of one misdemeanour between the two of you. We will clear this up, Mr Armstrong, but for now I think it’s best if you go to class. The bell will be ringing shortly.”

As if hearing his words, the sound of the bell signifying the end of lunch erupted throughout the school.

“Remember, no fighting,” he warned sharply before turning towards the exit, no doubt to disperse the crowd still ogling Max’s handiwork. “Oh, and hello Miss Hathaway, I expect you’ll be hurrying off to class now too, hmm?” He didn’t wait for a response, already halfway out the doors.

“Jane?” David croaked out in surprise, only seeing her for the first time as she shifted out from behind me.

“Jane,” he said with conviction this time “come here. We’re leaving. I don’t know what the fuck you were doing with this scum but no more. You’re mine, you hear? Mine!”

I narrowed my eyes, fists already white and more than ready to give him a matching black eye so dark he couldn’t use make up to hide it.

“No, David, I’m not yours at all. I won’t do this with you any longer. I’m sick of you; in fact you make me sick. Two can play this blackmailing game. I’m not just some damsel in distress who will allow you to control her and have his way all the time. If you tell anyone about what you threatened me with, then I will tell Fraser here,” she patted my bulging arm for emphasis “just why you make me so sick.”

He visibly paled, shallow eyes glancing to the veins popping out of every muscle in my taught body, before sliding back to her. I didn’t like this – not one bit. I was proud of her for sticking up for herself against the bastard, sure, but she was deliberately keeping things from me. And, by the sounds of it, things which would give me a good reason to try to kill Armstrong.

After a few tense, terse seconds, David let out a deep snarl and straightened up to his full height. Dismissing us both with a patronising glance, he turned away.

“You’re welcome to her, Butch, let’s see if the whore will put out for you.”

The only thing stopping me from launching myself at him was Jane who had wrapped her arms securely around my waist, knowing what I would try to do. She stared up at me, only me, and grinned a little madly.

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

My breathing was still heavy, fists still ready to pummel into flesh, but I kissed her temple anyway. She could calm me down. In ways I hadn’t even begun to understand, she calmed me right down. And I would find out what David had done to her, what she was blackmailing him with now.

If he had hurt her... he was a dead man walking.