All the Shades of Her

She was in my back yard, throwing stones at my window.

I didn’t mind all that much, because I hadn’t been sleeping anyway. I’d been midway through some stupid paper for some stupid class at my stupid school, and was glad of a distraction. I opened my window and there she was, wearing a ridiculous white fur coat. She grinned mischievously when I appeared.

“You like?” she called, opening the coat and doing this sort of jig. God, she looked ridiculous, but beautifully so.

“Suave,” I laughed, leaning out the window to get a better look. “What are you doing here, anyway?” It was eleven at night, and an appearance from Charis Daughtry at that time could only mean there was wickedness on her mind, the kind that involves running around our town on one of her mad ventures.

She opened her arms wide, that stupid grin still plastered on her face, and said “Evangeline, my dear, I’ve come to rescue you from the suffering that is homework; to teach you that there is a whole world outside of that shitty bedroom of yours!” She lit a cigarette and looked up at me expectantly. I shook my head.

“Oh, Romeo,” I mocked, “You’re so goddamn romantic.”

“Tell me about it,” she replied through the smoke on her lips. “Now get that ass of yours down here so we can get going.”

“Get going to where, might I ask?” Charis chuckled darkly.

“That is for me to know,” she took a drag on the cig, “and you to find out.” I rolled my eyes and grinned. I’d be damned if there was a girl more spontaneous and more out of her fucking mind. There were times where I thought I came pretty close, as her fellow conspirator, but truthfully nothing came close to Charis.

“You’re goddamn crazy, you know that, Charis?” She exhaled smoke and bowed dramatically, her fur coat brushing the ground around her feet.

“You said it, baby. Now hurry the fuck up, or am I gonna have to climb up the damn wall and drag you down here?”

-

“So are you going to tell me why you’re dressed like a hooker or what?” I asked as we started along the street. It was deserted and freezing, and I was sort of regretting leaving the warmth of my house. Charis chain-smokes like a motherfucker, and already she was on her second cigarette. She offered me one, and I accepted.

Normally I don't smoke, because I have weird hands and I look awkward when I do, but Charis is the type of girl that makes you do things you don't usually do, even if you look gawky and artless when you do them. She doesn't really make you, I guess. It's just how she is. She's cool: cool as goddamn ice, and everybody wants to be that cool.

Charis never looks awkward or gawky or artless because she doesn't see the point.

“As the oldest and wisest member of our friendship, I’ve decided it’s time for us to... come of age, so to speak,” she muttered over her cigarette as she lit mine. I scoffed.

“Oldest, yes. But wisest?” I said, disbelievingly. Charis raised an eyebrow. We both knew that she was flunking every subject at school, possibly because she was never there.

“Hey, I’m talking about street-wise, girl.”

We also both knew that Charis was far from stupid. It was just that she was utterly disinterested in her schooling. She claimed that she had much more to learn from adventures than the actual educational system. So far, I’d probably agree.

“Whatever. Explain this ‘coming of age’, then.”

Charis reached into one of the pockets of the white fur coat and pulled something out. We stopped under a streetlight and she held it up to me with a sort of triumphant grin.

“How the hell did you get this?” I asked incredulously, snatching it out her hand. It was an ID, obviously fake, but real enough to fool me, at least. Charis took it back and tapped her nose.

“This is only part of my grand plan. Tonight, Evan, we’re going to get you wasted.” She looked particularly pleased with herself as she revealed this last part. I stared at her, and she shrugged innocently.

I’d never been drunk before, and Charis took great, great pleasure from it. Charis has done everything – I think. She’s even had sex. I’m a virgin, never even kissed anyone. She frequently tells me that she knows plenty of boys who’d be happy to "service" me, but really I don't need servicing. I'm not a fucking car.

“You goddamn crazy bitch,” I said again; she threw her head back.

“Ha! You won’t be saying that once you’ve had a taste of the pleasures of inebriation, baby.” She blew her smoke in my face and smirked. I waved it away with my hand. Not only was she the worst kind of bad influence you could associate yourself with, Charis was also the most egocentric, high-and-mighty bitch I'd ever met. She was gorgeous and funny and attractive as hell and she knew it.

“Damn crazy.”

We reached the nearest shop and stopped just outside the edge of its glow. She fumbled around in her pocket and pulled out a hand mirror and lipstick. I wasn't really one for make-up, and neither was Charis, but she adored lipstick because she thought it made her look like she gave really good blow jobs. I didn't take any pleasure in the thought of her giving oral to some guy, so I really tried not to think about it.

I watched as she applied it to her full lips and then planted a kiss on the mirror.

“Beautiful!” she exclaimed, winking at me. She was right but I'd never admit it; I didn't really need to. She snapped the mirror shut.

“Okay, you vain fucker, what’s the plan?” Charis handed me the mirror and the lipstick. She glanced inside the empty shop.

“I’ll go in and get the stuff, you stay here.”

“Why have I got to wait outside?” I complained and she looked me up and down.

“Because you look like a virgin, and I’m smokin’ hot.” God, she was vain. I didn't care, though. She had every right to be.

“Fine, but don’t take forever or I’ll go home,” I warned as she buttoned up the white fur coat. Empty threat. She sniggered because she knew me too damn well.

“You don’t have the balls, the attitude, or the sass, baby girl. I’ll see you in a minute.”