I stood there watching the rain fall, I couldn’t fathom anywhere else I’d rather be than here. Straining my mind for answers, why I wasn’t precisely, or exactly, good enough? It didn’t matter
though, it surely didn’t matter to him. I decided to go inside and the boom of the stereo system startled me at first. Teenagers, like myself, were dancing everywhere, barely clothed, and morphing
themselves within the senseless music that defined today’s generation of virtuoso ambition. I slowly went upstairs to the nameless three bedroom quarters, shivers went up my spine, quickly mentally
preparing myself for what I could potentially see, and what would surely break my heart. I could hear laugher, and whispers to try to attempt to contain the other one’s pleasures. I knocked softly
on the door, but the party on the other end probably couldn’t hear me competing with everything else surrounding myself and them. “Hello!” I was surprised how reliable my vocals were, I thought for
sure I lost them mustering up the courage to even show my face here, at a place such as this, something I couldn’t imagine myself participating in, a large social gathering, with people my own age,
mainstreaming it, intoxicating themselves with alcoholic beverage and other substances, and just fucking themselves and others. “Hello!” I said once more, this time knocking loudly and sharply.
Enough with adequate politeness, this is some scummy, youth induced bash, I’m going in.
To my surprise they weren’t in the official act, but damn way near it. “Cal?”, I felt like one of those incredibly stupid bimbos on reality TV shows or some transparent sitcom, having something
physically shown to them, but still not comprehending the evidence to it’s full potential truth. It wasn’t until I heard the girl’s Boston originated accent telling me to get the fuck out, that I
realized I was intruding on an immensely, intimate moment between lovers. Cal turned around, his penis in full view, everything else just a complimentary bonus to one’s eye. “What are you doing
here Kate?” The girl got up to reach for her panties and other garments, her pixie haircut amplified her petite and almost exquisite features, her breasts define perfection, stomach insanely flat,
she was flawless. My face began to redden, and I felt like a complete fool coming here. Why couldn’t I just be like every other girl and ride on my womanly, stereotyped as crazy by half the
population of this world, intuition? Presume, confront, and then ultimately get into a fight that could ether be temporarily damaging or fatal to this relationship I’ve somehow concocted with Cal
by accident and misplaced emotion. Boy, was I regretting all the lax regard for my feeling and vulnerability now. “I just thought…I thought I’d stop by, see what you’re up to, I-I mean I had
nothing better to do…who’s she? She’s pretty.” The girl couldn’t help herself by slightly smirking, seeing how pathetically placed I was in her romantic endeavor only made her feel stronger, I
assume. All girls like to know their pretty and having it admitted by another, especially another that just so happens to be sleeping with the guy they are about to indulge in themselves. All the
more fuel to become alpha I suppose. Cal went for his shirt, pants, everything besides his underwear, did he even bring any? “Look Cynthia, babe, I’ll call you later tonight,” he leaned in for her
face, devouring shamelessly her pixie like features, but only for a short moment, that’s all it took, just a short moment, to get her steamy again, and I on the verge of tears.
Cal left Cynthia to finish dressing, and came toward me, took me by the hand and led me out of the bedroom. We fished our way through the sea of human flesh, and finally freed ourselves of the
obnoxiously sound music and grinding bodies. I found myself outside, the cool air moist from the brief rain. Cal found a spot on the porch swing, gesturing me to join him. “Kate, you know we’re not
together, I mean, you know we’re not together like that…” Only after a few seconds sitting, I wanted to abruptly get up, I longed to flee from this embarrassment, but Cal’s warmth kept me in place,
his large paw-like hand covering mine, as if my hand weren’t there to begin with. “Kate, I’ve always enjoyed your company, don’t think I don’t now, it’s just things aren’t like they were a couple
months back, stuff changed, you can’t be following me to places you’ll know I’ll be, c’mon Kate, you’re too pretty to be borderline stalker.” He was right, not about the physical aspect of it, but
the mental, had I really acquired the perspective of a borderline stalker? I boldly interrupted Cal in the about to be in the moment of intercourse. “I’m sorry, it’s just, you know how I feel about
you, I know it won’t make any difference, but I keep hoping things will…work the way I feel they should.” Cal immediately kissed my nose, I wrinkled it by habit, it always felt delightfully strange
whenever he’d do things like that. Too bad this time, the gesture had other meanings behind it. Sympathy, charity, etc.
“Kate, you can’t feel like this forever, it’s useless, things are going to move, and keep moving, you have to move with it, or…stay like this, and personally moving seems a lot better than sitting.
Know?” I blinked back a few sneaky drops of pity for strictly my self and no one else, the trail of water leaving my face only made me feel more stupid. “You’re right Cal, I’m gonna go, this was
silly, I’ve been acting insane, and over what? A fucking boy? You’re just a fucking boy.” I got up abruptly from the swing, like I imagined initially before the conversation had gotten so bleak. My
bike was propped up on the fence that gated this stranger’s house. I watched Cal go back inside, probably to convince Cynthia to stay and continue what was so rudely interrupted between the two.
The scream just escaped me, I wasn’t expecting it, and the moment it raced out of my lungs and out my mouth, I felt some mild form of release. You could hear the music pulsing throughout the house,
seeping to outdoor exposure, I doubt anyone realized the brief, exhilarated shriek from me. I was alone out here after all. Cal safely indoors, conjoined with Cynthia. I got onto my bike and
pedaled. I pedaled faster than I had ever in my entire existence, the speed of my bike and the pumping of my legs, it seemed so unrealistic. I felt as if I was just a quick splash of blurred color,
that you could only collect a quick glance of. I felt more at ease that way, all considering. When I got home, I was sure to shut the front door quietly, Mom was unaware I had even left the house,
my room was as I had left it. Things piled on the floor. Given character over the years, my knickknacks, and lastly an unmade bed to drown in. I stripped myself down to bra and underwear, looking
in the mirror, my awkward shape, only bringing me to more unwanted tears. I crawled under the covers, and tried to suffocate myself several times with a pillow. All failed attempts at a mediocre
The morning sun arose me, no matter what I cover my curtain-less window with, the sun always manages to seep it’s way through and wake me up. I guess my mom is too cheap to get curtains for my
one window bedroom. Maybe, I’m too cheap too. Working at her hospital, answering phones, and taking messages isn’t all bad, the job pays well, and if things go accordingly, I’ll be able to leave
here soon. I just wish I knew how soon. From what my mother has told me, being on your own isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but I have to try, I’ve gone mad on several occasions picturing myself
trapped in this town, this place I was raised and told to grow in since age two. My mother hasn’t left the state, she’s happy to be here, honestly intends to die here. I can’t say I wish for the
same thing. Even after my father died, she had no motive to leave this place, she just covered his absence and memory with boyfriends, vacations, and a fancier way of living. I long to be so
lucky with contentment. I’m not sure what I need, but I know it isn’t here. I never felt right here. My unhappiness spread to people that only tried to care for me. So I’m repeatedly told. My
parents, my siblings. My sister truly resents me for all I’ve ‘caused’ for this family. Whatever is left of it to classify as family. My little brother practically born into this artificial
example of suburbia sanity. My mom finally settled down with the mirror image of herself, male form of course. He’s a tyrant, and feels most comfortable being in full control of our lives. I met
him when I was thirteen, never really felt comfortable being in a room alone with him though. My mother insists that he ‘loves’ me. Honestly, I think the day he told her, (On their very first
date.) that he was willing to accept her children translated into this, that he was willing to force upon his unused parenting skills on them, and elaborate a façade of unconditional concern for
all of our well being. We don’t get along, and it could just be my paranoia but I really doubt he has my best interest at heart. He doesn’t know me. I digress though, I guess that’s what all
‘good’ boyfriends are suppose to seem like, unconditionally caring for the aftermath of their lover’s previous marriage. I never imagined my life being such an ultimate cliché within a cliché.
Father dies, Mother takes in live in boyfriend, live in boyfriend takes heroic role by fostering the children of the typical widower. My mother is a typical widower, she wants our lasting
memories of our father to be living, yet she has an open casket memorial. Her hypocritical behavior only admits that she doesn’t know what she’s doing, but demands to be seen at her best and to
be right in all regard. I want to blame my warped up personality on the death of my father, but everyone including my mother, say that I was always like this. Unhappy, unsatisfied, just this
bleakness of a person. When she says it and only she, it feels as if she’s trying to repel me because I don’t agree with her life style now. Her life after Dad’s death. It feels more like insults
and petty jabs than actual truth. I had to of been better off than I was now. I had to. I don’t remember self affliction, promiscuous intent, and self loathing being such prominent components in
my life when Dad was around. As much as I want to blame the entire world for my problems, it would only be viewed as middle class whining, I truly have everything the normal being would desire.
Enough food, water, clothing, personal belonging, what’s to be sad about? I could even have an adoptive daddy if I really wanted. The cause of my unhappiness is unknown, I suppose. Maybe, that’s
why I cling so intensely to Cal. He brings out what lacks so dimly on my person daily. Lightens it up and makes all that should be natural, easy and acquirable.
I first met Cal in a science class in high school. I never really noticed him until we partnered up in this project assigned by the brainless teacher that had no idea what she was doing because
it was her first year as an educator. I first had my sights set on our other lab partner Trace, he was your typical asshole, not hiding the fact that he strictly only wanted girls for their
mouths, and not for conversing purposes. I liked the attention though, the feeling of being noticed, even if it were for all the wrong reasons, then after some excessive sexually hidden meaning
in his talk, Trace sort of dissipated from view, and Cal’s easy going aura caught me with admiration. Trace then was flirting with a brick wall after that, I could no longer focus. Cal and I got
to talking by the end of the period, name, number, and then eventually a text. He took me home that day, and I couldn’t believe the smell of everything he inhabited, his car, his clothes, he
smelled so brilliant. Intelligence, lust, and something sweet that just encased the entire package for me. When I got home, I waved goodbye, he smiled at the wheel of his beat up vehicle, and I
couldn’t help but goofily smile back. When I got in the door, Mom wasn’t home from work, my brother and sister nowhere to be found, I decided to just let it out. I let out such an over kept
scream, a release of euphoria that seemed to be entrapped with all my woe and regret. It felt like nothing I had experienced the night I found Cynthia and Cal, that just seemed troubling and felt
like an unknown source had beaten it out of me. This scream, it felt like a powerful one, as if I achieved something that took such effort. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be aware until later, that it
took no talent at all.
Sometimes I feel as if Cal and I share a mind. Whenever I feel these heaps of desperation, a text message is waiting in my cell-phone’s inbox after I wake from an unfulfilling sleep, it’s
vague, emotionless, but at least it’s a gateway, an excuse to talk. Sometimes we plan to meet, sometimes we just only talk about transparent topics, just to keep something going between us, I
obligate, and shamelessly I am quick at responding back as well. It’s degrading, but it feels so… illogical, I know. Why be with someone who lacks enthusiasm to be with you, uses you as an
option when his love life has slowed down, or he can’t find a better lay? I wish I could answer that. I wish I could answer all the obvious forms of mistreatment Cal gives me, with a worthy
excuse. But I can’t. It’s become a compulsion, a compulsion I can no longer control. It didn’t use to be like this, it use to be brighter, less cynicism circling around us, and naïve and
hopeful prosperity on my end. I really like Cal, we all know this, but justifying it is really the only thing I can do. This unknown source inside me that gives him all my devotion, my lust, my
happiness. It’s a large price to pay for a dinner and a fuck. The way he courted me before, made me feel, untouchable, indestructible, and most importantly desired. He couldn’t stop kissing me,
touching me, I never felt something like this before. Before Cal, I had only had one other boyfriend, he was insensitive from the start, he never gave me this much attention, but the good thing
about him was that he never introduced me to this addiction ether. I got what I expected to get nothing more from him. Unfortunately Cal was different, he was always different. The most
beautiful thing I remember about Cal before he lost interest in me fully, was that whenever someone had something bad to say about me leaving his or her tongue, and Cal was in listening
distance, he would always be sure to make that person feel incredibly stupid for even conceiving such thoughts about me. Even when I wasn’t there.No one had ever done that for me before, made
me feel that special. It was as if we were a package deal. No more.
© Copyright 2016 Kathleen Megquier. All rights reserved.