"Look at the positive side, Del," Mikey spoke between his chuckles, "at least our entire block knows that your boobs are growing."
"Shut up," I ordered, pushing him by his arm and into the empty road, finding that I was growing thankful for wearing my male-fitting (basically, it was baggy), white Paramore t-shirt, as to conceal the fact that my boobs were apparently growing. Any other girl would be praising God that someone had noticed her assets were developing well, but I, for some reason, found it embarrassing.
"Oh, by the way, Imo text me last night and said that she would walk up to Lil's house; so we only have to stop off at Beth's and Lil's," I remembered, having one of those imaginary light bulbs flash above my head.
Maybe I should explain about our 'group dynamics', as it were. You see, there were six of us in our little circle of friends. There was Beth, Imogen (or Imo), Lily-Rose (or Lil), Aiden, Mikey, and myself. We'd all known each other for around four or five years, but I'm not one to keep count on that sort of thing. All that mattered was the fact that we were all impeccably different from one another, but loved each other unconditionally regardless.
It's not the typical 'six kids that don't fit in' scenario, either, before you assume it. None of us thought as ourselves as superior, or that you had to have a special quality to 'fit into' our group. Personally, I was friends with almost every single kid in our grade - it was just that these five were my favourites and I could barely go a single day without seeing, hearing, or communicating with them. Oh, and I say I'm friends with almost everyone in my grade because, naturally, there are a few of whom I clash with. That's perfectly normal, though.
"Hey, I have a question," Mikey's quiet-yet-bold voice caught my attention as we walked, side-by-side, in the instinctive direction to Beth's house.
"Is it about your sexuality?" I teased, barely able to keep my grin at bay. Mikey took in a deep breath, as though to calm himself before he stabbed me with one of his chewed-to-death-pens, before continuing.
"No," he breathed out, "it's about why Matt won't quit calling our house to talk to you."
Matt? Short for Matthew. Who did I know called Matthew? Harlington! Matthew Harlington! Wait, Matthew Harlington? Why would he be calling me? No - why would he even have my number?
"Matthew Harlington has our home number? How in the hell did he even get that?" I asked Mikey, seeing him casually shrug his shoulders before viewing my confused expression.
Matthew Harlington was a Jock. He played every sport going, and was the Quarterback for our school's football team - every school had a Matthew Harlington. But, strangely enough, he wasn't a thickheaded moron that slept with every chick going. He was polite, nice, and gave me a smile in the hallway even when he was surrounded by his judgemental, typical-thickheaded-Jock friends. I'd never spoken a word to the guy before.
"I may have given it to him when he asked me before the holidays started...but he said it was to talk to me and see if we should hang out sometime. He keeps calling, saying 'hey' and 'how are you doing?' to me, then diving in and asking for you. I tell him every time that you're out," Mikey explained, elaborating himself so that my confusion was dying down.
"Why do you tell him I'm out?" I wondered curiously, kicking a stray stone on the sidewalk and into the road, Beth's house on Ryecroft Street in view.
"Because you are always out," he chuckled, and I joined him. He did have a point there - I barely spent more than nine hours a day in my house during the holidays, and seven of those hours were for sleeping.
"I assumed there was something going on that you didn't want anyone to know about, but I guess by your reaction that you, too, have no idea why he's so interested in you all of a sudden," Mikey continued, and I nodded in agreement. It was pretty weird that Matthew was calling me up, assumedly to talk to me, when we ran in completely different social circles.
"Can I ask why you're choosing to tell me this now?" I asked my brother when the realisation hit me, wondering why he hadn't explained all of this to me when the first call was made by the school's kind Jock.
"I forgot. Plus, we never get time alone together anymore, so I wouldn't have had the chance to," he explained, and I pursed my lips together before nodding in understanding.
"That's because it's been the holidays, you've got a girlfriend, and insanely weird friends that we share. We don't have time to be alone together unless it's in this situation right now; us two walking to Beth's house to pick her up for school in the morning," I decided, trying to find a reason why I never seemed to be alone with Mikey when he wasn't busy sucking Beth's face, we were around our family, or hanging out with friends.
"I do miss talking to you about complete shit like we used to, you know," Mikey grinned down at me from beside me, now mounting Beth's driveway.
"How about we do something on the weekend, then? We can go and see a movie or something - you know, just hang out together to 'recapture the magic'," I suggested, causing him to laugh as we edged closer towards Beth's front door.
"Sounds good," he grinned, patting the top of my head like I was his pet dog before he knocked sharply on the door three times.
Immediately, we could hear Beth's dog barking, her voice telling him to 'pipe down', and her dad calling out 'Monty, hush!' as Monty was the dog's name.
Another yawn passed my lips, and I brought a hand over my mouth to conceal it as Beth's familiar, widened, purple-contact eyes greeted Mikey and I.
"Dad, there are people trying to sell things at the door!" she called out, faking a panicked and shocked expression as she grabbed her Slipknot messenger bag and stepped outside with us.
"Have a good day, sweetheart!" I heard her dad, Bill; call out to her with obvious amusement in his voice, knowing that it was only her friends at the door. Beth had a very connected relationship with her dad, mainly because she hadn't seen her mom since she was five when her parents divorced and she walked out on them, leaving Bill to raise two kids (Beth and her brother, Dave, who shared Gerard's age of twenty-one). I think that's why Beth was such a laid-back badass; she took after the men in her household.
"Morning, losers," she greeted us, teasingly grinning as she closed and locked her front door behind her. She slipped her pale, fingerless-gloved hand into Mikey's thin one, pecked his cheek, and the three of us started to walk down he driveway.
Not only was I jealous of Beth because nothing could piss off or upset her, but because she was positively gorgeous. She had extremely choppy, shoulder length black hair with silver slices in it, a glimmering septum piercing, and was fortunate enough to pull off her attire; today, black drainpipes and Converse, a skinny, lime Korn t-shirt, a black Military jacket, her black, printed scarf and huge-ass sunglasses.
Sunglasses in drizzly September? Only Beth Ashcroft could make it look good.
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