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Liam strolls into Jeff's house and finds him watching tv, his feet up on a coffee table. Jeff smiles and points at him. "That's a nice shirt." Liam slumps down next to him. "Why are you so happy?" He slides his hands behind his head and says, "Last night, I got paid and laid." Focusing on the tv, Liam asks, "Is that right?" "Well, not paid," he concedes. "But definitely laid." Liam glances at him. "With who?" "Natalie." Returning his attention to the tv he says, "Don't know her." "Yeah, she's one of my sister's friends." "Are you serious? How old is she?" "Fifteen. Well, almost fifteen." Liam shakes his head slightly. "That's not right, man." "Why not?" "She's too young. I mean shit, that's like fucking a little kid." Grabbing his crotch lightly, Jeff says, "It sure was..." Noticing Liam's slightly disgusted look he says, "Hey, come on. It's not that much of an age difference. Maybe two and half years. If she were twenty-five and I was twenty-seven nobody'd bat an eye." "Yeah, but you're not twenty-seven." "Whatever. Get off your high horse. You're just jealous that I blew my load in some underage pussy last night and you're still stuck with your cold fish. Am I right?" Raising his eyebrows slightly, Liam says, "Let's just say that accounts of the evening vary." "Hm." They watch television in silence for a few moments before Jeff says, "You know what's weird though? I had this dream afterward that was even better than the real fucking. It was like this crazy orgy..." He points to Liam. "You were in it." Raising a hand, Liam says, "Stop right there. I don't even want to hear about it." "Okay, but it was pretty wild." Jeff's brow furrows suddenly as he says, "Actually, I forgot about that part. Probably better that I don't tell you."
Elizabeth pushes open the door to the public library. She hasn't been here in ages, but she used to stop in all the time. She's never been particularly interested in reading for its own sake, but when she finds an author she likes she reads everything they've written. Nothing lately, though; just shelves and shelves of boring, boring books... It's been a few months, so there might be something new. She heads up to the second floor, where most of the books are, thinking of how nice it is to be here as she runs her hand along the bannister. A few people move around here and there, but for the most part the building is very quiet. Steven freezes, a book in hand. Elizabeth is coming upstairs. She just walked by, right past without noticing him. His eyes stay on her as she walks to one of the rows of bookshelves and puts her hands in her pockets, glancing both ways before turning left and strolling out of sight. He puts back the book he'd been reading and draws a slow, deep breath. How can the atmosphere of a whole building change so suddenly? There's a new tension to the surroundings, an added significance, a heightened sense of purpose to his actions. A quick shiver runs down his back as he walks after her. He turns the corner and walks down one of the aisles, spotting her in the next aisle over. Peering over a line of books he watches her run her fingers across the row of jackets, her face blank. Her expression brightens immediately as her finger pauses on one of the books. She pulls it out and reads over the back cover, smiling, then takes it to an empty table and sits down, turning immediately to the first page. He stands at the end of the aisle silently watching her while he tries to calm his nerves. Finally he goes to sit with her. "Hi," he says, smiling as he takes the seat across from her. Glancing down he notices that she's reached page 15 in the time it's taken him to come over. She glances up at him and the slight smile on her face disappears. A cold ball grows in his stomach, but he tries to ignore it. "Hello," she answers, then returns to her book. He realizes that he hasn't brought a book with him, so he spends a minute playing awkwardly with his fingers and glancing uncomfortably around the room. He tries not to look at her too often, but he's drawn constantly back to her eyes; she's looking down at the page, her eyes moving smoothly across the lines of the page... She glances up at him and he looks away, and when he turns back she's lifted the book to obscure her face as she continues reading. He gets up briefly to grab a book from a nearby shelf before sitting back at the table. He opens the book but keeps watching her, maneuvering himself slowly to the side until her face comes into view. He can only see one of her eyes and the very corner of her mouth. Her eyebrow forms a perfect arch, and he spends a few moments scrutinizing it before wandering down the side of her face, across her cheek and to her lips, which rest as a neutral line across her face. He notices them curl slowly downward, into a slight frown... She slams her book on the table and says, "Could you stop that?" A little surprised, he asks, "What?" "Stop staring at me. I can't concentrate when you're sitting there looking at me. It's like I can feel my brain being sucked out of my head." He smirks involuntarily and asks, "Are you serious?" She gives him a level glare. "Yes. Even casual imposition is enough to drive me insane. I can hardly stand it..." He frowns somewhat skeptically but tries not to let it show. He doesn't want to make her angry. "So you never impose on people?" With a look of complete seriousness she says, "No. I take great pains not to. Ever since I was little I've gone out of my way not to be a burden to anyone. Obviously it's impossible to do completely, but I try. I really go out of my way to keep to myself, and I've always just expected other people to do the same. But most of them don't, they're always stepping on your toes in little ways and pretty soon you find yourself completely mobbed. It's been like that for my entire life, I swear." "But what are you talking about? People don't hang around you. Every time I see you you're alone. Or with Liam," he adds with a wayward glance. "Not anymore, no. But it didn't just happen, I had to make things that way." She looks out the window. "I basically decided that there were about three people I didn't mind being around, so I didn't say anything to them. But everybody else, everyone who tried hanging around with me or worming their way into being my friend when I wanted nothing to do with them, I just told them to fuck off. All of them, gone." She mimics the motion of throwing something away and mutters, "Bladow." "Jesus, isn't that a little harsh?" "No, it was beautiful. It was freeing, not to have to deal with them anymore. I don't think they really understood the magnitude of how much they brought me down. They could see the tip of the iceberg and that was enough to draw them, because they flocked to me even though they had no understanding at all of what was under the surface." He leans on his arm. "So who were the exempted?" "Some old friends of mine, who I've drifted away from anyway. But they never really annoyed me, so they weren't included in the vendetta. I really kinda miss them, but it's never the same when we get together now. Especially me and Hil, we used to get along the best. We were just so comfortable around each other... we could watch a movie and then just sit around and talk about it for an hour, there was such a good feeling between us. I really loved being with her. But time always changes things... you know, I think that's what it really comes down to underneath all the philosophizing, just a feeling." She looks at him. "There's a way I want to feel about myself that I only feel when I'm alone or with Liam. It gets lost around everyone else. And I want it badly enough to do whatever I have to do to keep other people away from me." Her glance drifts away from him. "The problem is that it's never a permanent thing. I have to keep fending off new people all the time." He frowns to himself. "Look, are you trying to tell me to leave?" She sighs. "No, you can stay. Now that you're here I don't really mind. It's the transition from being alone that's the hardest part." His expression softens, then turns into a sly glance. "I think I see what's going on here. I think you really do want people to hang around with you, but you can't go to them. So you want them to come to you, but then you have to act like you never wanted them around in the first place so you can..." He trails off as he notices the look on her face, and the feeling in his gut tells him that he's made a definite mistake. Her eyes drill into him coldly, her face stern as she says, "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Steven." He slumps in his chair, resigned. "You really would rather be reading a book than talking to me, wouldn't you?" "Well, yeah." Noticing his slightly hurt look she says, "Hey, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to. I know it looks like I'm more than happy to talk my head off once someone gets me going, but it's fucking annoying having these one-sided conversations all the time. Other people have things to say, ideas to interject, but when I talk to you it's just me rolling along, no resistance, no input, it's almost like I'm not talking to anyone at all. What have I got to learn from you? What is there to gain? I really don't know, I hardly know you, but frankly I just don't care. I've got no reason to look forward to the next time I'm going to see you." His hurt look isn't going away, but he does seem to be making some effort not to let it deepen. "Look, I know it's not what you want to hear, but isn't it better to hear the truth about what I really think? I can't just sit here and lie to you. That's the entire problem I have with people, they want me to forgo my honest opinion and tell them that they're great and impressive and that I love to see them when the truth is the exact opposite. Well I won't do it. I'm finished walking on eggshells for people all the time." He bites his bottom lip before saying, "I just don't see why you treat me like this all the time. I thought we were getting along." Her eyes narrow slightly. "Treat you like what?" "Like everyone else, like all those people you don't want to talk to, like... some lesser being. I kind of understand what you mean, I don't want to talk to most people either, and I certainly don't want to be lumped in with them." Suddenly all she can think of is what it would be like if he wasn't there, how this entire problem would disappear if only there were no one in that chair and she were alone. She could be reading. "What exactly do you want here, Steven? Do you want this to turn into some kind of charity case where I just sit here and tolerate you? How would that do either of us any good? I can't just make up new feelings to have around you – people make me feel a certain way and that's all there is to it. So why persist? Why not just let it go?" He speaks quietly while looking down at the table. "Because the way you make me feel isn't like that." "And how is it that I make you feel?" He looks up into her eyes and says, "...I'm in love with you." She puts a hand on her forehead and leans against the table, her eyes closed. "Now why did you have to tell me something like that? You know the feeling's not mutual, so why say it? Why burden me with it?" A slight grin touches his face as he says, "I'm not. I'm just telling you the truth. Would you rather that I try to fabricate some situation that doesn't exist?" She smirks slightly. "Yeah, that's a good point... Well, okay then. You're in love with me. Let's take it from there."
Hillary twirls the phone cord absently around her finger as she listens to the phone ring once, then twice. There's a click and Evan's voice says, "Hello." She smiles. "Hi honey. What are you up to?" "I was reading. What do you want?" "I just wanted to talk to you, see if you might want to do something tonight." "Of course I don't want to do something tonight. Have you even talked to Elizabeth about that date yet?" "Hold your horses, tiger. I'll set it up. But in the meantime you're my little cupcake." She grins. "My little snooky-wookums." "Jesus, stop that. Just tell me what you had in mind." "I dunno. Let's go see a movie." He ponders for a moment before saying, "That might not be so bad. There's actually one I've been meaning to go see." "Nope, that's not how it works. We go see whatever I wanna see. And you hafta pay." "This is ridiculous. Why do you expect me to do this?" She smirks. "It's simple. I've got a vagina, and what you want more than anything is for me to take off my panties so you can put your penis in it. And you want it so badly that you'll do anything to keep me happy, in the hope that I'll do that one thing for you. See, it's not that complicated." "It's completely pathetic." "Well, instead of getting in my panties, just think of it as getting one step closer to Liam Scott's big, thick cock..." He makes a sound of disgust. "Don't be so vulgar." She laughs. "So when do you want to pick me up?" Sighing, he says, "I don't know. What movie did you want to see?" "Beats me. I'm meeting Lindsey for awhile but I should be home by seven, so just swing by then and we'll take it from there." "No problem," he says a moment before hanging up on her.
"So that's all you can come up with? That you feel better when you're around me?" A little embarrassed, Steven says, "Well, basically, yeah. But isn't that what you said things really come down to? A feeling?" Elizabeth rolls her eyes. "Sure I said that, but damn it, that's a load of shit. Of course I like being around some people more than others, but I always know why. There have to be some underlying reasons." "Well, you're beautiful, and you're smart, and confident. The world just seems easier when I'm around you. To me you're really seem like... the perfect girl." She continues to watch him steadily but can feel herself starting to blush. She starts to grin slightly. It seems so ridiculous that she should like hearing these things from him, of all people. But praise is praise, and it's hard to ignore... No, she can't start warming to him that easily. It won't be worth it, he'll just end up like the rest, sapping her time and making her miserable. But the two of them do get along once in awhile, sort of. Compromise; fucking compromise. Compromise is never worth the trouble. She sighs, then stands up. "If we're going to talk, let's at least get out of the library."
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"Basically," says Jeff, "There was this teenie-bopper sleepover last night where they decided it was about time to get some hardcore action under their belts, and I got invited over to do the honors." He grins. "It's a sweet gig if you can get it." Looking confused, Liam asks, "Why you?" "I'm a stud, man. Look at me, I'm an athlete. Girls get wet just looking at me. Well, young dumb drunk girls, anyway." "But how did you get connected?" "My sister. Actually, I think she's probably the one who talked them into it in the first place." "Your sister was there?" "She was in the same house, but she didn't participate. I meen geez, give me some credit. She just got the ball rolling." Liam shakes his head. "Drunk 14 year olds... man." "Yeah, it was pretty sweet... Actually, they were sorta skinny and dorky, pimples. One of them had a brutal set of buck teeth. But the one I got was decently cute. Lenny got the other three as a sort of consolation prize." "Lenny was there too?" "Yeah, it was me and him. So he got 3 skinny nerd girls, but hey, three girls is three girls. I could hook you up, I'm going over there in about half an hour." "Again?" "Yeah, Lenny's still there. He didn't want to leave." Jeff leans toward him. "C'mon, when are you gonna get this kinda chance again?" "I'll walk with you, but I'm not going in. I'm homeward bound." "Suit yourself." Jeff rubs his hands together slowly as his eyes take on a far off look. "I'm gonna see if I can convince one of them to let me take her in the ass..." He looks at Liam. "You sure you don't want to come? You don't have to take one of the dorks – I think my sister likes you." "I'm sure you're more than man enough for her." "Hey, there's not many places I won't go, but that's one of them. And I have to make sure Lenny doesn't go there either, now that I think about it..." "Hey, I'm flattered. Most siblings don't pimp each other out." Jeff leans back. "Ah, I was just kidding. It'll be a cold day in hell before you fuck my sister." "Amen to that," Liam says, returning his focus to the tv.
On their way out of the library Elizabeth stops to sign out her book. "What book is that?" Steven asks her once she's finished. "Patternmaster, the first Octavia Butler book. I'm kinda surprised it showed up, it's pretty old. A first edition from 1976, too." "The libraries shuffle things around sometimes." He follows her as she steps outside. "Isn't it weird to read something that was made before you were born?" he asks. "Someone made that book and people read it and things were almost exactly the same as they are now, but we weren't here." She smirks at him. "That sounds almost like something I'd say. Is that a coincidence, or have you been doing your homework?" He shrugs a little, and she says, "Though I don't really care for thinking about the world before I was in it. Kind of pointless." "Not big on history, then?" "Not really." She stops next to a large rock outside of the library. It's bigger than the rocks placed outside the school, rising to just below her waist. She drops the book on top and leans against it, crossing her arms as she stares off into the distance. "I'm not too keen on the future lately, either. I used to be sure that things would just keep getting better, but there are a lot of tragically stupid people in the world. You never know, this might be as good as it gets for a long time." He looks around for somewhere to sit, but settles for the grass. "That's a fairly pessimistic attitude," he says as he tries to get comfortable. "I tried to be optimistic. Man, did I try. The thing is, I pulled it off. It wasn't an act, I really was happy. I was so happy... and I had the reasons and the explanations behind it, and that made it even better. Most people have no idea, but I knew why I was happy, and it seemed impossible to lose. I had passed a plateau that I was never going to sink under again. And in a way that's still true, I know things now that I had no idea about before, and to an extent they catch me when things start going badly. But all the reasons and explanations can't do anything when the world gets... tiresome!" Her voice takes on a hard edge, sounding suddenly angry. "Is that what it's supposed to mean to be depressed? To just be fed up with the world? To be fucking bored? Is there some reason why I can't just get depressed like everyone else does? What I wouldn't give to feel run down, to feel defeated, like the world had really kicked my ass and there was nothing I could do about it. At least that would imply that there's something worth doing that I couldn't do, instead of being able to do anything and having no outlet, nowhere to go in this fucking place. I think that's what's really happened to people," she says, looking directly at him. "The reason people are so mediocre, why they never do anything with their lives is because they can't see anything ahead of them. The future is just one big blank, the same as today, the same as yesterday, nothing to achieve, nothing to strive toward, nothing to look forward to. Just a big fucking pile of nothing." "No one to look up to," he adds, looking up at her. She shrugs, looking away from him again. "Could be. I don't look up to people. I don't put them on a pedestal or idolize them. If someone has done something truly great, something that can really be admired, I don't admire them. I respect them. Adulation, praise, it's worth nothing." She turns back to him. "Respecting someone, looking them in the eye and letting them know that you consider them an equal, that's worth everything. Not raising them by putting yourself lower, but being together, on the same level." "So you don't think anyone has done anything better than you?" Her expression blank, she says, "People have done specific things better, they've had a more obvious impact on the world, but I don't respect them for beating me. They haven't beat me, they haven't done better, they've lived up to me. They've done the things that I expect a human being to do." He cracks an involuntary smirk and says, "But you're just a high school girl. You haven't done anything." A flush comes back to her face, but this time through holding back anger. She stares at him for a moment, then taps the side of her head and says, "This is enough. This is what will lead to everything else." He looks down at the grass, and after watching him for a moment she turns back to the horizon. For awhile they stay in complete silence. "This is going to sound a little weird," she finally says, still watching the skyline, "But imagine if aliens were to randomly pick one human being and use that person to judge the entire race. What would they think? With most people I don't think they'd be very impressed, they'd be stuck with a creature who probably never learned how to really think rationally, who has no particular skills, who can't concentrate on things for any length of time and who isn't terribly reliable or trustworthy. But if they picked someone like me they wouldn't find any of those problems. I think they'd be impressed. So what I mean is that there are different types of people, and I respect people who are the same type as me, who've worked to attain some level of competence in their minds and their actions so that other people will be able to respect them. Not everybody is like that." He smirks. "All modesty aside, huh?" "Who needs modesty? Modesty is just a brief respite for people who spend all their time spewing bullshit. If you talk straight in the first place it's not necessary." "Yeah, maybe." They sit in silence again, not looking at one another. She thinks about him as her eyes move slowly across the horizon. He was right, they had gotten along, for a little while. But whatever it was is gone, and now he just makes her tired. Her heart jumps as she notices Liam in the distance, walking with Jeff. "I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later," she says, walking away without waiting for a response. He turns his head to watch her for a moment, then stands, noticing her book still on the rock. He picks it up and starts to call after her, but notices Liam in the distance. His mouth stays closed as he watches them, then puts the book under his arm and walks away in the opposite direction.
"Don't you miss sex?" Liam walks beside Jeff, his hands in his pockets, the two of them strolling down the street. "Sure, yeah. I had this girlfriend before I moved who was a sex goddess, I couldn't get enough of her. We fucked all the time. But she was just a normal girl, there was nothing special about her, besides the physical." "So there's something special about Elizabeth? What, does she counter-balance your crippling anti-intellectualism or something?" "Hey, I'm intellectual. I could talk your ass off about philosophy all day if I wanted to. Me and Cantrell used to do it all the time. I just choose not to." "Now, see," Jeff says, "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You should have been doing something entirely different with Cantrell." "Hey, feel free. I'm done with her. She's all yours." "Oh, I've tried..." Liam shoots him a glance. "What?" "Nothing." Elizabeth strides up and gives Liam a giant smile, completely surprising him, then turns and says, "Get out of here, Jeff." "What?" Jeff gives her a look of total disbelief. "Why should I?" As if in explanation she says, "You know that feeling when you can watch yourself through your mind's eye and be completely happy with what you see? I've got that." Jeff raises an eyebrow. "What, is that a permanent condition?" he asks sarcastically. "No, I didn't have it five minutes ago. And it's too important to waste, so you have to go." She puts a hand on his chest and pushes him gently away. He gives Liam a questioning look, who nods apologetically. "Alright," he says. "Whatever." He gives Liam a final glance and says, "See you later, man." "Later." Jeff walks away as Elizabeth takes Liam by the collar, pulling herself up against him. "Hi," she says. "Hey." He smiles down at her as she raises herself onto tip-toes, and they meet in a kiss. She pulls him gradually up someone's driveway and into their backyard. There's a wooden swing hanging from a tree which she sits him on and then sits on his lap. She hooks her legs between his body and the rope on either side of him so that they sit facing one another. She smiles as she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him again. "Should we be sitting in this yard?" he asks. She touches her forehead against his. "You always say the best things. Don't worry, I know them. Besides, no one's home." She lays her head on his shoulder as they swing gradually back and forth and asks, "Do you want to drop out with me?" "Why, what happened this time?" "Nothing. It just seems like something we should do." She lifts her head to look at him. "Go on a road trip, just get out of here. Nothing happens around here." "I think plenty has happened since I moved here," he says, kissing her gently on the neck. She smiles as her glance moves to the sky. "Yeah, you really lucked out, huh? Of all the cities you could have ended up in you happened to show up in the one where I live." Glancing at him, she adds, "The compatible girlfriend." He shrugs a little and says, "If you weren't here I would have found somebody else. That's number one of the new town itinerary. But I'm sure they wouldn't be as good," he adds in response to her slight frown. "So how many girlfriends have you had, Liam Scott?" "Let me see..." He looks up, counting, then says, "Nine." "Seriously? You've been busy." "Yeah, but that's since I was twelve, and a lot of them weren't very serious. As soon as you get one girlfriend you turn into a target for all kinds of girls who wouldn't otherwise be interested. There were only a couple I was really in love with." "Who was the last one?" "The last one I was in love with?" "No, the last girlfriend." "Her name was Melissa. With her it was really just about sex. I think she was in love with me, though. She was really beautiful, and she always smelled good... even when she was really dirty her body had this amazing scent to it... but you probably don't want to hear that, right?" "No, not really." Her eyes move to a small garden across the yard as she asks, "Do you miss her?" "In a way, sure. But it was pretty easy, as moves go. She called me once after I got here and it was nice to talk to her, but I didn't feel that longing... The time we moved when I was in the eighth grade was the worst. That was my third girlfriend, Kirsten, and I was brutally in love with her. I don't think I'll ever have a relationship like that again. We were young enough that we could get completely absorbed in it; we pretty much stopped all communication with everyone else, we dropped all our friends, we spent all of our time together. We talked on the phone for hours, and when someone kicked us off to make a call we were back on a minute later. We never got tired of being together. I can't explain how much I was in love with her, when we were together it felt like everything was solved. I even started sneaking out of my room at night so I could bike to her place and climb through the window to sleep with her. It wasn't sexual – we fooled around a little, but not those times. I'd just crawl into her bed without a word and she'd put her arms around me, and we'd go to sleep." Elizabeth is silent, watching him as he stares at the grass, his eyes far away. Finally she says, "Wow." His eyebrows lower slightly. "I was so angry when I found out we were moving. I yelled and wrecked things, I threatened to kill myself, I tried to run away but the police found me. They wouldn't even let me see her because I'd caused such a scene, they thought it would be safer. Finally at the airport I got to see her again, and we just held each other for twenty minutes. It was awful, being together but having the feeling that the entire world was falling apart around us. She cried a lot, but I was convinced I'd be able to escape somehow and travel the 1500 miles back to her. But of course, I never did." He keeps staring at the grass. "Hey, do you think we could get up? You're cutting off the circulation in my legs." "Sure." She crawls carefully off him and he stands up beside her, stretching. He glances at her as they begin to walk, then watches the trees as they make their way toward the park. "I decided when I got on the plane that I wasn't going to talk to anyone anymore, and I did it. For almost four months I didn't say a word. Even when teachers would yell at me I'd just think of her and everything would fade to black. It really freaked out my mom. She tried to talk to me but I never answered, I just stared at her. After awhile she even started trying to convince my dad to move us back, but there was no way. It pissed him off so bad that he beat the hell out of me a couple of times. I spent most of my time writing Kirsten a love letter that was thirty pages long by the time I finished." She was watching her shoes as she walked, but glances up at him. "Did she write back?" "No, but she called me eventually. She wanted to tell me that she had a new boyfriend. It was almost like she was asking my permission, she sounded like she wanted me to say it wasn't okay, that I never wanted her to see another boy again. And goddammit, I fucking didn't. But I told her it was alright, and she asked me if I had a new girlfriend, and when I told her I didn't she started crying. And then after my months of stoicism I started crying too, and it was completely ridiculous, but it was so good... the complete, off the deep end drama. That's what I'll never get back. That junior high bubble world is gone, things can't go that far anymore. When you get older you have to be too reasonable." He breathes out. "So there's my story. That's why a big chunk of my thoughts are still living in a junior high school in Indiana." They walk in silence, passing by the baseball field behind the park. Elizabeth stops at the chain link fence to watch some kids playing in the distance and smiles. "You know, kids are alright," she says. "But they'll grow up and go nowhere. There are definite advantages to youth. I feel like I have to make connections while I'm young, because as people get older there are less and less of them who are interesting. Soon there won't be anyone left that I want to meet. When they're young, people have such potential... they've got the rest of their lives ahead of them. But then they just go nowhere." "Jesus, will you shut up?" Her eyes dart to his face, but she sees that he's smiling. She grins a little sheepishly. "I swear, that's all you ever talk about." Looking directly at her eyes he says, "It doesn't matter if people go nowhere, as long as we don't go with them." She smiles. "I had a dream the other day where you told me that exact thing." "That we're going to go somewhere?" "No, to shut up, because I always talk about the same things." He starts to laugh, and watching him she feels the same laughter building in her stomach, but she holds it in, focusing on the feeling as she smiles at him.
Steven slumps down on his bed, dropping Elizabeth's book beside him. He pushes his face into his blankets as he exhales loudly. After a moment he turns slowly over, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Well, he did it. He told Elizabeth he's in love with her. And the whole thing's completely stupid because she hates his fucking guts. Nah, she doesn't hate him. Yeah, she does. She pretty much came right out and said it, didn't she? This is so stupid... what's the point? She doesn't like him, she's never liked him and she's never going to like him... And what's so special about her anyway? She's just another girl. In fact, she's a weird girl who says shit he hardly listens to and loves to hear herself talk and treats everybody like an asshole. Fuck her. That's it, he's not going to be in love with her anymore. He's going to forget all about her and just move on. Maybe he'll ask Ms. Cantrell for some extra help on Monday and hang around with her instead. No, wait – he already tried that, and she told him to get lost... Fuck! Fuck all this stupid shit– He accidentally kicks the book off his bed and freezes at the sound of it hitting the ground. He leans over to pick it up, then slowly looks over the jacket. Patternmaster... That sounds really lame. With a sigh he turns to the first page and starts to read.
"What are you gonna do?" Lindsey follows Jessica toward Ms. Cantrell's car, sitting unattended in the mall parking lot. Jessica glances around to make sure no one's watching, then stands surveying the vehicle. "I don't know. But I have to do something. The administration hasn't done shit and that bitch is still walking around like Queen of the Sluts." She strides suddenly to the trees behind the parking lot and breaks off a branch, then starts to scan the ground. "What are you looking for?" Lindsey asks, walking over. "Dog shit. Help me look." A little skeptically, Lindsey begins to search. "There's some," she says distastefully, pointing. "Excellent." Jessica carefully picks it up with the branch; it's sticky enough that most of it clings fairly easily. She carries it carefully back to the car and pokes the branch underneath the drivers side doorhandle, smearing it along the inside. "There," she says, carefully throwing the branch away. "Perfect." "What? You can see the shit all over the handle!" "Hm, yeah..." She considers for a moment before saying, "Give me one of your socks." "Fuck that! Use your own!" "Alright, fine, I will use my own." Glaring at Lindsey, she takes off one shoe and pulls off her sock, using it to wipe the outside of the handle clean. Handing it carefully to Lindsey she says, "Now go throw this out." Scrunching her nose, Lindsey takes the sock between two fingers and runs to the nearest garbage can. She returns as Jessica is putting her shoe back on. "So what now?" "Now we hide and wait. She can't stay in there forever, and I've gotta see this."
Evan takes the keys from the ignition and slumps back in his seat. "We're here." Hillary glances over at him. "Who's car is this?" "My mom's." He unbuckles his seat belt and sees that she's sitting still, leaving her seatbelt on. "Well?" he asks. "Aren't you coming?" "We have to decide what to see first." She glances up and looks slowly across the various movie titles. What would he not want to see? What would he absolutely not want to... "How about that new Rachel Leigh Cook movie?" He makes a sound of obvious despair, and she smiles. "It doesn't start for another fifteen minutes, let's not go in right away." He stares out the driver's side window and doesn't answer. "Hey," she says. "Look at me." He turns his head slowly and gives her a level stare. "Am I really so repulsive?" she asks, still smiling. "Tell me what you've got against me." He watches her for a moment before saying, "Well, I'm not particularly impressed with the way you're taking advantage of our situation." "Taking advantage?" She smirks in disbelief. "What am I getting out of this? That I get to hang out with some guy who doesn't like me?" His eyebrows lower slightly. "You're doing this because you wanted to be seen with me. I don't know how that ended up including going to fucking movies." "That stupid plan of us hanging out was your idea. It's a dumb plan, Evan. You're dumb." She laughs as he turns away, staring back out the window. "Okay, tell me this: Do you dislike all women, or is it just me?" "It isn't all women. Just most." He notices her raise an eyebrow and says, "To be fair, I dislike most men, too. But I just don't like the way you're built. You're too round, your bodies are way too soft. And you're everywhere – magazines, movies, advertisements, draped half-naked at every turn as if it was something anyone actually wanted to see." "Well, obviously it is." "And that's just the point! Is there something wrong with your gender? Some suits offer you some cash to act like sex objects at varying levels of depravity and you fall all over yourselves to see who can take their clothes off first. And then you have the nerve to claim that women in porno movies are degrading themselves while women in Vogue aren't. If you show a nipple you're down a notch, if you touch a penis you're down a notch, but beyond that it's entirely acceptable to live your life as nothing but a whore. It disgusts me." "Hey there, bucko, don't go blaming it all on us. It's men who want women to act that way." "Absolutely. That's the way most men want to see most women, and there's nothing wrong with expressing it. They're just telling the truth. What's wrong is women giving into it even though they know it isn't right, even though they know it makes everything ultimately worse in this society." "So is there something wrong with wanting to be desirable?" she asks. "Women aren't allowed to let themselves feel sexy?" "It's the path of least resistance, it's taking money to do something that requires no brains, no thought. It's doing something just because it's easy and just because someone will pay you to do it." "It takes a lot more than that to be attractive. And besides, I don't see what all these generalizations have to do with me. I'm not exactly going out of my way to get naked for the first guy with some cash." "Not yet, but you just haven't been given the right offer. And for you," he says, leaning closer, "I don't think it would be the cover of Vogue. It wouldn't even be Playboy nice. You'd end up fully spread for a camera in some guy's basement." He grins as her face finally falls to a hard frown. As she looks away she says, "You're just a fucking misogynist." "It's a little late for flattery." He grips the wheel confidently and asks, "So, are we going home now?" "You wish." She undoes her seatbelt and opens the door, then steps out of the car. She walks toward the theatre and he watches her for a moment, leaning against the steering wheel, then finally leaves the car to follow her inside. When he gets there she's already waiting in line. She pushes him ahead of her when they reach the front of the line, and he gives her a quick glare. "I'd like two tickets to the shitty movie," he says, taking out his wallet. When the clerk fails to respond he appends, "The one in theatre #3." Once he gets the tickets she tugs his arm and says, "Buy me some popcorn." "Oh for christ's... buy your own fucking popcorn!" He mashes a twenty in her palm and leaves her, taking a seat in the theatre. When she shows up a few minutes later her arms are full of a giant bag of popcorn and a pop, a huge bag of licorice slung across her arm and other bags of assorted candy in her pockets. "Here," she says, handing him a chocolate bar. "I got you something." He sneers to himself. "Is there any change?" he asks as the lights begin to dim. She crams a handful of popcorn in her mouth, then takes a drink of pop and says, "Nope."
Hiding behind some trees, Jessica and Lindsey watch as Ms. Cantrell exits the mall and walks toward her car. "Man, on weekends she dresses like even more of a whore," Lindsey mutters. "Shh!" Jessica's eyes are intent on Cantrell as she approaches; she opens her door and brings her hand back with a curious expression, then stares at her shit-covered fingers and turns her head in disgust. She gags several times as Jessica starts laughing, holding her stomach as she falls backwards into the bushes. She tries to get control of herself, she wants more than anything to stand back up and see what Cantrell is doing, but the convulsions in her stomach keep her grounded as tears start to stream down her face.
Evan rests his head on his fist, scowling. He glances over at Hillary, her face illuminated by the movie screen, her eyes focused in rapt attention as she chews idly on a piece of licorice. He watches her for a moment, thinking; if she wants this to be like a real date, then fuck it, this will be like a real date. He stretches slowly, giving her a sly glance, then slides an arm carefully around her. He leans over and rubs his nose lightly against the side of her face, but she doesn't react, continuing to focus on the movie. He slides his other hand down to her lap, gently rubbing her leg, then running it slowly up her thigh. She spreads her legs slightly to allow him easier access and he pulls back in revulsion, staring at her in complete disgust. He finally crosses his arms and forces his attention to the movie; in the darkness her mouth moves into a small smile.
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