|
|
|
Youtopia, Ch. 5 |
| Written by Sneh =] | |
| Monday, 14 April 2008 | |
|
Share it:      “Mmm, Foss, whaz wraun?” Her mouth’s chock full of gooey banana goodness, so I look away and mutter, “Nothing,” while giving her some time to swallow and remove the syrup beard that’s starting to appear. She cleans up with a napkin and then smiles reassuringly at me, or at least tries to but her teeth look a brownish pink Picasso and that sort of ruins the effect she was going for. “Come on, tell me. I know something’s bothering you. Is it like, something at school?” “It’s Morgue. He’s been acting sort of emo lately.” “He’s always acting emo.” “No, but I mean, like, for real. Like, you know...before. When he...” I don’t complete my sentence but Em knows what I’m going to say and sobers up. “What was he doing? He wasn’t talking about suicide or anything, was he?” “No, he was just acting...” I shrug. “Weird. Not like himself. I’m just worried, you know?” “Yeah,” She says, nodding. “But I have Chem and Gym with him and he seemed okay then.” “Well his boyfriend did just break up with him...” “Yeah, but I don’t think Morgue really liked him that much. He was just sort of like a distraction, so Morgue could forget about--” She suddenly stops mid-sentence. I raise an eyebrow and Em coughs, laughs, and says, “Advanced Psychology. I heard they get like loads of work in that class. He has to do two hours of work a night just for Psych.” She grins spastically and changes the subject to the woes of dealing with traffic on weekends, but it’s obvious to me that a bullshit alert needs to be issued. “Em,” I say, forcing her into eye contact. “Forget about what?” “I told you, Psych--” “Forget about what?” I repeat and she falters, her eyes roaming wildly for some object that could inspire a plausible story. “Um, about...about...” “Em. Tell me!” “About...about...” Her azure eyes suddenly pop like an emoticon’s and she waves animatedly to someone behind me. “Morgue!” I look behind me because I’m pathetically naive but Em’s not lying– looking bright-eyed and (dare I say it?) happy, Morgue comes up to us, grinning, as an older-looking guy with a slight beard and a white vizor tags along. I give him a look to signal we most likely have even less dough in our pockets than he does but apparently he’s not here to beg, he’s here for Morgue. As they get closer, I realize the guy’s got his arm around Morgue’s waist and he’s laughing into my best friend’s thrice-pierced ear. I glance at Em to see if she’s as surprised as I am; unless her mouth is imitating the Holland Tunnel just for comedic effect, I’d say so. It’s not that I’m not glad Morgues’ found someone new, but for god’s sake, it’s been less than a day! “Hey...?” I greet them, the remainder of our sundae melting away, forgotten, as Em and I look over the new flame. Hmm...Tripp pants, obnoxiously colorful tats on his biceps, the beginning of a naturally black Jewfro. And, last but not least, piercings. All over. Small steel circles clinging to his nose and his cartilage; a miniature barbell through his right brow. There’s a herd of metal dots grazing on the facial hair around his lip and chin, and one that’s wandered off to explore the extreme left section of his cheek. He looks like a mess– and therefore, is exactly Morgue’s type. “Can we join?” Morgue and his...thing...scoot in on the opposite side of the booth before we’ve much of a chance to answer, and it’s an awkward next few moments as I think of what to say to the creature. “Are you, uh, going to introduce us?” I shift my eyes to Morgue and fake interest in getting to know his new man but I’m secretly hoping– no, praying– that he won’t and maybe the metal-sheathed monster will just fade away on its own accord. Unfortunately, Morgue seems delighted at the prospect and excitedly tells us that this guy worked with Rob at Walmart and that he’s in a band and that his name is Shane but we can just call him sexy because everyone does. Both Em and I realize a bit too late that the last detail’s supposed to be a stab at some sort of joke, so our laughter echoes in the silence that ensues as we all shift uncomfortably in our plastic red seats. “So...” Em coughs politely and makes a commendable effort to smile at Shane. “I’m Emma, and this is Foss. You, uh...go to Lionel High?” Shane makes a gurgling sort of noise– a laugh?– and shakes his head. “I go to Akin Community.” We give him blank stares. “College. Akin Community College.” “Ah.” Em looks at me and nudges my arm with her elbow. I guess she’s trying to pass the baton, but what the hell am I supposed to say to this dude? “How...did you two meet?” It slips out of my mouth before I give it a second thought, and I’m already regretting it because Morgue looks even perkier than before, and I can tell this is going to be one hellishly long tale. “Well,” Shane says, putting an inked paw around my best friend’s shoulder, “I heard that Rob wanted to break up with Morgy--” Morgue blushes; Em and I wince. “–and since I had been wanting to hook up with him for a long time I asked him out and he said yes. Whenever he came by to visit Rob, we talked, so I feel like we’re really close friends now.” It sounds like the happily-ever-after to the story so I sigh in relief, but mid-breath Morgue decides to add in all the unnecessary details. “It started when he asked me to see my Ipod shuffle and stuff to see what I had on it, right? So I showed it to him and apparently we listen to a lot of the same music. You know, Black Sabbath, My Bloody Valentine, stuff like that. Obviously right away we had that special connection, but I didn’t really know it until that ******* dumped me for whats-her-face.” “Janet,” Shane says. “Whatever. Anyway, so we’re talking, right, and...I dunno. We just sort of clicked, you know?” “And, of course, Morgan’s also really hot. That helps.” Shane grins in a vaguely creepy way and I shudder involuntarily. The guy looks like he’s going to be arrested any time on charges of pedophilia. Morgue giggles. “Hey, I’m not the only hot one in this relationship.” To further emphasize how ‘hot’ or whatever they are together, they engage in a brief but still violently disturbing liplock that forces me to turn away or puke right on the table. I would assume Em would be grossed out as well, but instead she looks slightly amused, and takes out her camera phone. “Ohmygod, you’re not going to--” The flash goes off before I really have a chance to protest, and I swear at least five other people in the restaurant are trying to get a picture of the kiss as well, because I can hear other cameraphones click in the background. I give Em a look of disgust, but she only pushes her palms into the air. “What can I say? I think they are sorta hot together. Besides...” Her voice lowers so I’m the only one who can hear her. “I don’t this guy’s that bad. He’s just a little...odd. Like Morgue.” I glance warily at the pair– unfortunately, they’re still manhandling each other with their mouths, and so I’ve just added another scar to my memories– and sigh. I can’t help thinking “a little odd” just isn’t the right way to describe this guy. I can’t put my finger on it, but this Shane seems like a shady character. Copyright 2008 Sneh =] |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
via Email
