Down Low

I violently shook the droplets of depression off my body. No use sulking about the past now, I guess. I stepped out of the shower and unfortunately caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the marble sink. My hair fell lifelessly around my face, messy and contrite. The dark circles under my eyes exposed my distress a little too adequately. Dammit.

I quickly shuffled across the hall to my bedroom, ready to begin my daily beauty regime (which wasn’t much-mind you). I just needed to not make myself look like boiled shit. I put on some eyeliner and threw on tights, a long black nirvana t-shirt, my black leather jacket, and boots. Nothing special. I made my way down the plush staircase and yelled over my shoulder to Robbie.

“Going to Harrods!” I yelled. He never responded. In fact, I bet he barely even noticed I said anything. Lily is superior at creating distractions. Thank God.

I grabbed the spare house keys from the rack next to the front door and opened it, only to be greeted by a welcoming summer breeze. I kept on my jacket, nevertheless. When I arrived at the store, I headed straight for the book section, carefully weaving my way through waves of people eyeing the antiques toward the store’s entrance. As soon as I reached the bookshelves, I was home. I lost myself and delved into the stories of people whose lives were far more stable than mine. After an hour or so, I had narrowed my selection down to two books before I heard a crowd of teenage voices steadily creep towards where I was standing. I tried to ignore them and focus on my choices. Crank or Nothing? My focus didn’t hold for too long, as their voices rose. It was as if someone changed Mozart to metal and cranked up the volume to the highest level, and then proceeded to increase the bass. It was that bad. I cringed before deciding to look over. There were 3 girls in the group, all of whom were exceedingly gorgeous. It really should be a crime to exude that amount of appeal. Two of the girls, a short brunette and a tall blonde, stood idly talking to one another about what they were going to wear at a party that was happening tonight. The other girl, a redhead, radiated that leader vibe as she argued with three boys about spliff and pills.

I didn’t notice I was staring until the redhead turned and looked into my eyes, head tilted as she sized me up. I never broke eye contact. I don’t embarrass easily and I’m no pussy. One of us was going to look away first, and it was not going to be me. A small smile formed on her impish lips before she looked away and turned around to her group. I looked away and finally made the decision to buy the book called Nothing, by Janne Teller when I glanced back up to them. Normally, I wouldn’t have jumped but suddenly the group was centimeters away from me, staring me down. What the fuck? The group chuckled. Did I just say that aloud?

“Calm down, love we’re only… curious,” the redhead replied. They all gave me a onceover, as I did them while they awaited my reply. I tilted my head and looked them all in the eye, showing them that I wasn’t in the least bit intimidated; and I honestly wasn't. Teenagers don’t scare me. Only my mother does.

“You know what they say about curiosity...” I replied. They must’ve been surprised, because there was an awkward moment hanging about before she spoke again.

“You’re funny. My name’s Katie. These are my mates Kristia, Angie, Nathan, Zane, and Caleb. And you’re my new best friend.” They all shook their heads at Katie as she shoved her perfectly manicured hand in my face. It didn’t bother me at all. I raised my eyebrow at her and waited. My turn to make them feel uncomfortable. Katie slowly lowered her hand. I guess it worked. The boy named Caleb spoke next.

“Your name, love?” The boys all were equally as attractive as the girls. I wonder how they became friends. (Note the sarcasm) I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes and passing judgment. Maybe they weren’t that stereotypical cliché group of friends. Maybe.

“I’m Effy,” I replied. Wow. How wonderful it felt to say that. It was the nickname Lucas had given to me in middle school, when I still lived in America. I felt a surge of newfound confidence course through my veins and suddenly my disinterest in these people turned into excitement. I wanted to know them and belong somewhere. I never let it show on my face.

“What a peculiar name,” Katie stated. “I absolutely love it! Where are you from, Effy?” She sounded too prissy for my liking, but I ignored it.

“I just came here from the shithole that is America. I’ve lived here before when I was younger and just needed to come back. I’m living with my father.”

“Interesting, interesting. Well, since you’re new and obviously cool, would you like to come with us to a party later? You can meet us at back here in exactly 5 hours and we can all go together. Sound ace?” Katie asked with a judging smile. I really didn’t feel like socializing so much today, but her question was more of a demand. I nodded and accepted the invitation, and they promptly left me. It wasn’t until I paid for my book that I realized just what I got myself into.

Shit.