Eight years later…
Gravel crunched under the worn soles of the girls black converses as she trudged sulkily across the car park. The suns warmth was kept at bay by the thick layer of grey-white clouds drizzling lightly upon the small town and the surrounding rotten forest. The girl hugged her arms tightly around herself, though her black hoodie was doing a sufficient job of keeping her warm.
Passing over the threshold of the convenience store, there was that familiar bing, but also a nasty surprise. She was knocked into a rack of magazines as someone’s shoulder caught her own. She recognised the culprit as a senior at her school, one of the popular girls, the type who was daddy’s little princess.
“Watch it, freak,” the older girl spat, though the two barely knew each other.
Bitch, the thought was a snarl. But her cousin was no longer in America to protect her; she couldn’t get away with saying that stuff out loud anymore.
There was nothing particularly odd about her appearance; her bony knees were visible through the slashes in her black jeans, her high-top converses were slightly tattered and folded down, her nails were kept short and painted black, but this was true for a few teenagers in the area. They were a minority, but not all of them were alienated like she was. Her cousin was most likely to blame. But she didn’t care. She was getting out of that place. Though not by choice.
“Mornin’ Abigail,” the friendly old shop keeper always held a genuine smile for her.
Paedophile, would’ve been Abi’s cousin’s reaction. Abigail just nodded, dumping a bottle of vanilla coke and a snickers bar on the counter.
“That all for today?”
“You know it,” Abi sighed, having bought the same thing for every day of the holidays since they began.
“Word is your ma’s sellin’ up and you’re relocating to Australia.”
Abi nodded. “Word’s true.”
“Good luck with selling that place, I sure hope you can get enough money to move that far.”
Sure you do. “We’re moving if we sell it or not. My mum’s Australian, she wants to go home.”
“What about you kids then?”
Abi shrugged. “It ain’t fair on us, especially not the little guy, but it’s what our mother wants.”
“Well I wish you much happiness in your new life. I suppose I won’t see you again then.”
“Nup.” Don’t worry; this is the last time you have to pretend not to notice me getting slammed into one of your walls or someone using my hair to mop your precious floors. This is the last time you have to see such a sorry sight. This is the last time you’ll ever have to think about the scars you’ve seen under these sleeves... Abigail sighed. “Thanks, bye.”
“Good bye, Abigail,” he said absentmindedly, beginning to whistle tunelessly. His thoughts turned instantly back to the dirty counter, and he produced a rag to wipe it down with.
Abigail scuffed back out to the gloomy day, pulling her hood up against the heavying rain. She headed across the road and into the forest to find a quiet place to sit with her snacks.
A rotting log served as her park bench that day, and the forest served as her entertainment. With her heightened senses she could observe much more than a normal person could, however she didn’t notice when a wolf slunk between the trees towards her, tail swishing side to side. Mischief glinted in his eyes. He jumped the remaining distance between them with a little bark-growl.
“Hey kid,” Abi said.
His brown and white speckled coat was soft to touch, but he seemed to resent her patting him. His aura told her she wanted one thing. He whined, eyeing the snickers bar longingly.
“Get your own money, brat.”
He whined again, pawing at the ground.
“It’s your lucky day,” Abi said bitterly, throwing him the last bit of chocolate. She chugged down the rest of the coke and tossed the bottle aside. The wolf began trotting away. “Oi, Jake.”
The wolf paused.
Abi grinned. “Bet I could beat you home.”
Wolf-Jake barked a laugh and set off in a run.
Abi was going to walk home in her human form, letting her little brother win. She’d run the last twenty meters of course, so he’d think she’d tried. But when she emerged from the forest there were three familiar cars in the parking lot across the winding, empty road. Familiar because she’d seen them parked at school. “Oh god,” she muttered.
Music pulsed like a heart beat through the foggy window s of the battered station wagon. The girl from earlier leaned against her friends luxury sedan.
The window of thestation wagon rolled down. “Abigaaaaail!” a guy called out, his mates drumming on the dashboard and making wooping noises.
“Oh Jesus’ crap on a stick.”
A friendly face leaned out of the car, Dylan swished his brown fringe out of his kind eyes, but it flopped back down. The bare muscles on his arm sharply defined as he gripped the windows edge. “Want a ride home?”
Trying not to freeze up with social anxiety, Abi nodded.
The young lad opened the car door and stepped out, allowing her to take the front passenger seat.
As she moved forward to do so, the owner of the sedan waltzed out of the liquor store, beers in hand.
“Finally hanging with your own species, Whitmore,” the girl hanging off his arm jeered.
“Take a long walk off a cliff, Britney, it’ll do the world some good,” Dylan replied tautly. “Come on, Abs, hop in.”
“Cheers.”
Inside of the car was hazy with smoke and thick with the smell of marijuana. Abi wondered about the possible risks of driving like this. And of driving like this, in front of her mum. She prayed Kasia wouldn’t be out the front when she got dropped off.
Within minutes Abi was more relaxed, the smoke made her loosen up. She felt good – really good - sitting in a car full of cute guys she could talk with easily, crazy music fuzzing any real thoughts. All her problems and worried were pushed to the back of her mind. The rest of the ride was just a blur of stoned laugher and Dylan’s subtle flirting.
All too soon they had come to a stop on the Whitmore’s front lawn, isolated from the town by hectares of forest. A moving truck sat open on the grass, muddy foot prints trailing up and down its ramp.
“Thanks for the lift guys,” and for making my last day here the best.
“Hey, Abs, I won’t see you after this, will I?” Dylan’s grey eyes turned to stone with disappointed seriousness.
Abigail leaned forward, grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards her, locking lips with him. It was her first kiss. At fifteen years old, her first kiss, with a stoned seventeen year old. He tasted like cigar ash and skittles, and just a hint of something else. It lasted a more than a few seconds, but not long enough. The other boys were laughing at the abruptness of it all, but Abi couldn’t feel embarrassed. Not for that.
She pulled out, unable to meet Dylan’s eyes.
“One puff for goodbyes?” Ryes held the joint out to her.
Without taking it from his hand, she leant forward and took a drag.
Oh god.
Eyes watering, she tried not to cough. They watched with amusement but didn’t laugh.
“See ya,” Ryes grinned, gunning the engine.
“Bye,” Abigail croaked.
They jerked forward, performed a skiddy u-turn, and sped off. The moment they were gone Abigail began coughing and spitting onto the grass, trying to get the taste off of her tongue. Wolf-Jake trotted out from the trees, staring with accusation in his dark brown eyes.
Abigail’s watery eyes met his, and turned stern. “Don’t you ever smoke, kid. It’s feral.”
post882936.html#p882936 <- Back Forward -> topic84114.html
