Unwritten Pages

“Morning,” a voice says in my ear.

I groan. It's so loud. I roll over and throw a pillow over my face.

“Andrew, wake up!”

“Go away...” I mutter, “I'm sleeping.”

“It's morning!”

The pillow is thrown on the floor. A hand tugs at me shirt in an attempt to pull me off the bed.

“Omph! You're heavy!”

“Go away,” I mutter. “Leave me alone...” I just want to sleep...

There's some sort of soft pressure against my lips and I smile. It feels...nice... But the pressure is gone as soon as it came.

“Like the kisses, don't you?” There's another soft pressure on my mouth. I open my mouth slightly and the pressure recedes.

“Come on! It's a holiday! July first!”

“I don't give a damn,” I mutter.

It's silent. I realize that they're gone and I smile to myself. Peace and quiet—

Cold water splashes on my face. My eyes snap open to see Desiree with a water bottle looming above me.

“What the heck was that?” I gasp, wiping the water off my face.

“I couldn't think of another way to wake you,” Desiree says. “Come on, it's Canada day. We're going to set fireworks, remember? You said so yesterday.”

“I'm tired,” I answer and flop back onto the bed.

“No! Andrew, wake up!” Desiree holds the water bottle up. “It's not empty yet,” she says as threateningly as she can. She sounds cute, not threatening.

“Were you kissing me?” I ask with a slight smile on my face. More like a smirk, actually.

Desiree blushes. “What about it?” she asks.

“You're absolutely cute,” I say. “That sounds completely unmanly coming from me.”

“I find that cute,” Desiree says shyly. “You being unmanly. Well—to certain extents.”

“Desiree finds unmanly boyfriends cute,” I announce. “I'll keep that in mind. Tell me to go to the nearest bookstore and buy all those insanely romantic books. Preferably the insanely romantic vampire books targeted at teenage girls.”

“Andrew! I said to certain extents! That's going way to far! And I hate vampire romances.”

I give her an innocent look. “Why? Does hot men sucking blood not appeal to you?”

“No. It does not,” Desiree says simply. “It's really gross, if you think about it.”

“Then don't think about it.”

Desiree makes it face. “That's hard not to think about, especially if your boyfriend sucks blood.”

“I suck blood?” I ask.

Desiree shakes her head. “No! I don't mean that... Never mind... It's twelve now, so we might as well go get lunch.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Um...fast food?”

“Sure,” Desiree says, “but we can't make it a habit.”

“I won't, I promise,” I say. “But I need to use the washroom first.” By the looks of it, Desiree has already been to the washroom and back.

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “I'll just wait downstairs.”

She leaves and I hurry to the washroom. After a couple of minutes, I'm downstairs. I'm starving.

“That was fast,” Desiree says looking up at me.

“I'm a guy,” I say, “I don't need to put on makeup or do other crap.”

“I don't have makeup,” Desiree says. “Or did you forget? Anyways, happy Canada day. We're setting some fireworks right?”

“Yeah, I think we have some in the basement.”

We step outside and we're greeted by the sunshine on our face...and the smell of freshly cut grass.

Desiree covers her nose immediately. She's has an allergy to the smell of cut grass. “I thought your parents went to work,” she says. “And I thought they didn't cut grass until August!”

“They are at work,” I say. “And they don't cut grass until August...”

I look at my neighbour's yard. There's a lawnmower in the middle of their yard...and a teenage guy around my age. I narrow my eyes at him. Right. It's him. How can I forget. He sees me and waves. He's wearing sunglasses.

“Hey there Andrew!” he calls.

“What do you want?” I ask coolly.

“Who's the chick?”

Desiree looks like she wants to punch him. She hates being called a chick.

“What are you doing?” I ask, changing the subject. Luckily, he's dumb enough to take the bait.

“Enjoying my handiwork,” he says. “I told you I would be back on July the first. The phone call, remember?”

Right. The phone call. He had told me to watch my back. I had mistaken him for Drew.

Apparently, he's thinking about that too. He looks at Desiree. “Is that your new girlfriend? Drew or something? Last time I checked, you were with this crazy psychotic bitch. Tell me, is Drew the same?”

Desiree gives me a startled look. She has no idea what this guy is getting on.

“Drew,” I say, “is a guy, for your information—” He cuts me off.

“You're gay? I didn't know that! Well congrats for finally coming to that conclusion about your sexuality!”

I'm seriously considering to walk over there and wipe that smirk off his face—with my fist. But Desiree holds me back.

“Who's this guy?” she asks me.

“My stupid neighbour,” I mutter.

“What are you two muttering about? Can't you tell me? Something about your sexuality, maybe? Don't worry, I'm very accepting.” he says, his expression full of glee.

He reminds me of Avery. But about ten times worse. At least Avery is completely stupid and deep in shit. This guy? Not sure if he's deep in shit, but he's obviously smarter (if only by a little) than Avery.

“There's nothing wrong with gay people,” Desiree says, glaring at him.

“Are you transgendered? I've never met one before. What was it like? Changing from a cock to a pussy?”

“Screw off, Christopher,” I say. “You can go screw yourself.”

“Feeling embarrassed, aren't we, Campbell?” he mocks.

I can't take this guy. “I don't want to waste my morning talking to people like you,” I say. “Come on, Desiree, let's get the hell out of here.”

“Drew changed his name to Desiree when he changed his gender? Cool!”

He keeps on calling rude stuff at us as we turn to leave. Desiree pauses for a second.

“Desiree?” I ask. “You okay? Ignore him. He's an idiot.” I don't know if Desiree's upset by this, but I'm pretty sure she is.

“No...” Desiree says, “It's not that.”

“What's wrong with the lovebirds? Feeling offended? Oh, am I ever sorry!” It's obvious from the tone of his voice that he's anything but sorry.

Desiree turns around and looks right at him. His voice flatters.

“What do you want, Drew?” he asks. “Think you have the balls to stand up to me?”

Desiree doesn't bother to say anything. She just smiles at him. The smile is quite scary, actually. It feels like something Arianna would do.

“Are you mute? I'm sorry to hear that. Hear that! You get it?” He starts laughing at his own pathetic excuse of a joke.

“Desiree,” I say, “let's just leave. He can go laugh at his own jokes alone.” Desiree shakes her head. She doesn't want to leave just yet.

“Hey there pussy! Want to feel like a man again? Better go back to the hospital!” He doesn't sound so sure of himself like he did a few minutes ago. Desiree's silence and smile has startled him, if even just a bit.

Desiree holds up her fist and sticks the middle finger up. “You're an ass,” she says simply before turning away.