Status: NaNoWriMo - 21,112 words.
Exits and Entrances
thomas shannon.
The numbers on the board of room 22 blur before my eyes, leaving me almost giggling in the backseat. And despite all requests, you sit three rows up, stiff as a board, copying whatever the teacher writes on the board. It hurts to see you that tense, you know, Cady.
I remember the first time I saw you.
It was our freshman year’s Rock Stock, our school’s lame attempt at us being a family. And it seemed that everywhere I went, everyone was talking about this great emo punk crossover band that was destined from the start to rock the house. But no one would give away names, keeping them all a surprise.
And a surprise it was, my darling Cady. A surprise it was.
I sat four rows back, with the neighbor girl Jasmine. She was beautiful, of course, but was too busy whoring around to ever be a successful girlfriend. And the place was packed, everyone buzzing. People were whispering under hushed breaths, the room practically vibrating with all the high school kids dying to see this band.
That’s when you showed up, Cady.
Your hair was curled and tied back in a messy bun, your makeup impeccable as usual, and you were wearing a pair of sparkly black skinny jeans and one of your famous loose tank tops, this one featuring the red block letters, “Obey”, and you had this big smile on your face. Do you remember that, Cady? I do.
You kneeled in front of Jasmine, making rapid gestures with your hands I hardly recognized as sign language. I knew Jasmine’s parents were deaf, but you were a pro. Jasmine offered a rare smile, and you, you just laughed and smiled before disappearing back stage again.
That’s when I was hooked on you, hooked and addicted to you like nothing else before. Even then I could smell your smooth skin, enhanced by all the sweaty bodies surrounding you.
And when you got on stage, the infamous and gossiped about band, Hercules, lived up to every expectation. You were singer, but you had some junior boy as your “screamer”, and you did “The Sky Under The Sea”, by Pierce The Veil.
I remember wondering how a girl as sweet and beautiful as you could like something so dark.
But that was before I got to know you, Cady Grisham.
I remember the first time I saw you.
It was our freshman year’s Rock Stock, our school’s lame attempt at us being a family. And it seemed that everywhere I went, everyone was talking about this great emo punk crossover band that was destined from the start to rock the house. But no one would give away names, keeping them all a surprise.
And a surprise it was, my darling Cady. A surprise it was.
I sat four rows back, with the neighbor girl Jasmine. She was beautiful, of course, but was too busy whoring around to ever be a successful girlfriend. And the place was packed, everyone buzzing. People were whispering under hushed breaths, the room practically vibrating with all the high school kids dying to see this band.
That’s when you showed up, Cady.
Your hair was curled and tied back in a messy bun, your makeup impeccable as usual, and you were wearing a pair of sparkly black skinny jeans and one of your famous loose tank tops, this one featuring the red block letters, “Obey”, and you had this big smile on your face. Do you remember that, Cady? I do.
You kneeled in front of Jasmine, making rapid gestures with your hands I hardly recognized as sign language. I knew Jasmine’s parents were deaf, but you were a pro. Jasmine offered a rare smile, and you, you just laughed and smiled before disappearing back stage again.
That’s when I was hooked on you, hooked and addicted to you like nothing else before. Even then I could smell your smooth skin, enhanced by all the sweaty bodies surrounding you.
And when you got on stage, the infamous and gossiped about band, Hercules, lived up to every expectation. You were singer, but you had some junior boy as your “screamer”, and you did “The Sky Under The Sea”, by Pierce The Veil.
I remember wondering how a girl as sweet and beautiful as you could like something so dark.
But that was before I got to know you, Cady Grisham.