Chapter 6: In-betweenMature

Cue: Spanish Class

“Tu necessitas pantalones.”

 “Yo necessito pantalones.”

 “Bueno William. Y tu, Corina?”

As Senora Martinez moved on to the next student, I resumed texting Saul under the desk. It wasn’t like I was the only one, everyone in class was texting. It’s not like anyone of us actually cared about Spanish. Well, except for Corina, but no one likes her so yeah.

Wi77iam: Wassup playa?

Sintastic91: Dude, you’re so white

Wi77iam: Look who’s talking wonder bread

Sintastic91: At least this bread is getting some butter

Wi77iam: Really? With Courtnee?

Sintastic 91: You know I don’t kiss and tell

“Yo no tengo, pantalones”

Wi77iam: Dam! That was quick

Sintastic 91: Yeah, we’re kinda a ‘thing’ now

Wi77iam: Wow. Saul Sinclair in a ‘thing’

Sintastic91: Don’t rub it in

Wi77iam: How did that happen?

Sintastic91: I kinda asked her

“Tu no tengas pantalones”

Wi77iam: Asked her what?

Sintastic91: To be my girl

Wi77iam: WOW. Saul Sinclair, a one girl man? Thought I’d never see the day

Sintastic91: I’m so going to hit you bro

Wi77iam: So are you guys going out now?

Sintastic91: I’m seeing her tonight

Wi77iam: The usual?

Sintastic91: The usual

“Senor William, are you paying attention?”

“Yes Senora. Um, me gusta, tus pantalones.”

Wi77iam: Chocolate?

Sintastic91: Yep

Wi77iam: Niccccccccccce

Sintastic91: Btw, I can’t chill after school today

Wi77iam: What’s up?

Sintastic91: Gotta go to work at the gym

“Cinco dinero para tus pantalones”

Wi77iam: Say hello to that hot trainer Chloe for me, I think she likes me

Sintastic91: Dude, she’s totally gay

Wi77iam: What? Not cool!

Sintastic91: She’s way out of your league anyways

Wi77iam: Punk

Sintastic91: Peace bro

The bell rang, signaling the end of Spanish class and the beginning of another long, lonely day for me. Oh joy.

The girl:

I hate fighting with D. I hate it.

Why does he do this to me?

After picking broken pieces of glass off my bag, I left. I slammed the door behind me, just for good measure. I couldn’t even remember what we were fighting about. All I knew was, I needed a drink.

My car stalled on the way home, so I ended up walking the last block in the rain. By the time I got home, my hair was ruined and my clothes were soaked. I saw my dad’s car in the driveway and almost turned around, but where could I go?

I walked through the door and hung my coat on a hanger. It was right next to my dad’s coat, which was completely dry. He must’ve been home all day. As I walked through the house, I could smell a fresh pot of coffee brewing. That was a good sign. Dad only drinks coffee when he’s run out of the stronger stuff.

He was sitting in the kitchen, reading the paper like it was six o’clock in the morning and not midnight. I put my bag down on the counter and he smiled at me.

“Morning sweetie,” he said, “Coffee’s almost done if you want some, it’s decaf.”

I sat down at the table across from him and reached for a bagel as I said, “Getting ready for work, Dad?”

“Yep honey, and I’m working two shifts again so I won’t be back till late. You gonna be ok all by your lonesome?”

He got up to get the coffee as I answered, “Yeah, I got some homework to do so I’ll be plenty busy.”

There were three mugs in the cabinet, and after pausing to look at the third one, he poured two full steaming cups and sat back down. He passed me a mug and asked, “How’s play practice going? I’ve been meaning to come visit, but you know how it is with work and all.”

Dad had been working an awful lot more to pay the bills, since Mom died.

He’d also been drinking more.

“Play’s been good, but I’m going to start practicing my lines more since we’re so close to opening night and all.” That was true; the director told me if I didn’t actually learn some of my lines soon he’d fail me. Maybe I’d practice with that Will kid.

He looked at his watch and said, “Dam girl, I’m sorry but I gotta run. Shift starts in thirty and you know traffic.”

I sat there sipping my cup as he got up, stretched a little, and then gave me a kiss on the forehead. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t smell any alcohol on his breath. It was nice.

But it probably wouldn’t last.

As he ran out the door, he stopped and said, “You know, ever since mom died, I know it’s been tough on you, but I want you to know I love you Emmy.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

I do, I really do.

That’s what kills me.


The Best Friend:

As I drove to Courtnee’s house for our date, I began to have second thoughts. I usually would date a few girls at once, and never have a girlfriend. It left me free to see any cute girl that walked my way, and I liked it like that. Why did I ask Courtnee? What made her so special? I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

I pulled into her driveway, and she was waiting for me on the front steps. She smiled when she saw me, and I smiled back. As Courtnee walked up to my car, I couldn’t help myself from looking over her rather attractive body. Courtnee opened the door and slid her body into passenger seat. When a girl gets into or out of a car, it makes you fully aware of her legs.

I drew my attention from her body for a second as she said, “Hi.”


We sat there in silence for a bit, not looking at each other, in that cutely awkward way of a young teen couple. Finally, we laughed and I pulled out of her driveway.

“Where are we going?” Courtnee asked.

I just smiled and said, “It a surprise.”

We drove on in silence, until I pulled in to a favorite ice cream shop of mine. I liked to take girls here for a first date, because it holds a sort of old-school charm for me, and frankly I am on a high school budget. Courtnee gave me an odd look, but she got out as I held open the door for her. I’ve been to this place so many times; they know what I’m going to order without me having to ask.

Courtnee and I sat down, and a waiter brought us my usual, a tall chocolate milkshake and a basket of fries. I laughed at Courtnee’s confused look, dipped a fry into the milkshake and handed it to her. She was about to ask a question but I shook my head, and she ate the fry. Just like every other girl, I watched her face grow surprised and she reached for another.

I smiled and asked, “You like?”

She nodded, her mouth full of milkshake and fries. I laughed and said, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

Courtnee swallowed audibly and said, “Wow! I’ve honestly never thought of dipping fries in a milkshake. Thank you Saul.”

I helped myself to some fries and said, “Tell me about yourself, Courtnee. We’ve had math class together for the past few years but we haven’t gotten to know each other.”

“Well,” said Courtnee, “I’m seventeen, I like bubble baths, long walks on the beach, and I’m a Sagittarius...”

We laughed and talked for the next few hours, until we were the only ones left in the shop and all that was left of the milkshake were a few chocolate drops. As we walked out of the shop, she slipped her arm around mine and I didn’t mind. Instead of going straight to the car, we walked down the road for a bit, just enjoying the setting sun filling the sky with pink and orange. On the way back, her fingers intertwined with mine and I squeezed her hand gently. Courtnee squeezed back.

I drove Courtnee home, and we stopped to talk outside her front door. The street light flickered on next to us, and the yellow glow framed her beautiful face like an angel’s halo. It started to rain lightly, so I decided not to waste time on small talk and leaned in for a kiss. She didn’t oppose it.

When our lips touched, a flash of lighting bathed the world in blue but we stayed there, her body against mine. I could feel her shaking against me, whether it was the chill of the rain or the excitement of the moment I didn’t know. All that mattered was the feel of her lips against mine, their soft sweetness still carrying the lingering aftertaste of chocolate. Her chest was pressed against mine so hard that I couldn’t tell the difference between our two heartbeats. My arms were around her waist and hers were around my shoulder, and because I was taller than her she had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss me. It was adorable.

The light above the door flashed twice, her mother signaling that that was enough. I let go of Courtnee, and as I pulled away her hand clung to mine until I was out of her reach. I walked back to the car and started driving away as she stood on the step watching me go. The windows were down and some rain was getting in, but I didn’t care. I was too happy to care.


The Boyfriend:

I hadn’t talked to Emmy since our last fight. I’d been spending all of my free time at the gym; I even got a personal trainer. How dare she call me chubby? How dare she?

Well, she can’t say that to me anymore. My abs are looking great, and my biceps are huge. Let’s see what she has to say about me now. She’ll be begging for me to come back and do her on the kitchen floor again. That’s one thing I will say about Emmy, she really knows how to use that body of hers.

My mom was back in town this week. Ever since dad walked out she’s been in and out of the house because of her drug problem. She’s done more time in jail than I have and I hardly see her. Not that I miss her or anything, she just makes my life miserable when she’s back in town. She always wants money for drugs. She’s not even addicted to the hard stuff, when dad left the therapist prescribed her some stuff to calm her down and she never stopped taking it.

I was on my way back from the gym when I saw her car in the driveway. I almost turned around to go back but I needed to get some stuff from home anyways. She must’ve heard me coming down the road, because she was waiting on the porch for me taking long drags from a stubby cigarette.

“Where’ve you been boy?” she growled.

I turned off my bike and said, “At the gym, mom.”

“Yeah right,” she said as she drew hard on the cigarette, “I’ll bet you were out with that slut again. Just like your dad, going out and screwing anything that’ll let you.”

Angrily, I said, “I am nothing like dad!”

She flipped her cigarette butt away, and then slapped me across the face. One of her rings cut my lip, and I could taste blood.

“How dare you talk to your mother like that! Go to your room!”

“I’m eighteen-“ I started to respond but she cut me off with another slap. This one caught me in the eye, and involuntary tears started to flow, mixing with the blood on my face.

“Look at you crying like a little boy. You’re worthless, you know that? Go to your room! Now!” she said, while lighting another cigarette.

I started to walk in the house, one hand covering my swelling eye. God I hate her. I hate her.

The End

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