FicWad

Dread was collecting furiously in the pit of my stomach as I traipsed into the large front doors of Bishop Gorman. Another day of being the tiny new girl with the British accent and overly strange style. Another day of being asked to say ‘Harry Potter’, ‘biscuits’ and ‘tea time’ by gawking students. I thought my old school was horribly monotonous and each minute was laced with boredom, but it was nothing compared to what lay inside of the old stone walls infront of me. I prayed that a higher power would strike me down with a stray bolt of lightening. It would have been a treat to not have to endure another day of sadistic torture.

But with my luck, it was another clear, cloudless day in sunny Las Vegas.

This morning when my mum wrenched open my curtains I tried the old, ‘I’m too sick to go to school today’ excuse, but she wasn’t having any of it. She forced me to get on the bus, threatening that if I was late, I’d have to vacume the entire house, including the backyard. She’d make me do it too. She was bloody mental. So, I got up out of my bed and started getting ready for ‘school’.

I can’t believe how awful she is to me. You’d think she’d be trying to make me feel better since only two weeks ago she made me move from London to here. Las Vegas, Nevada. I wouldn’t have been as mad if the reason we moved here wasn’t so bloody stupid. But of course, everything my mother does is ridiculously stupid. We moved over 5000 miles to be with her boyfriend. That she incidentally met over an online dating service. Yeah.

I regret showing her how to ever use the internet.

Of course I didn’t want to leave England. I mean, I really really really did not want to leave England. After living there for the last seventeen years of my life, I didn’t see the point in having to restart everything because my mother wanted to scuttle around after someone she hadn’t even met yet. Everyone that I needed to be content with my life was back in London.

I had Harry and Jasmine.

Harry had been my boyfriend for about five or six years. We’d been through a lot together. He was fun to hang around with and I knew I could trust him. He never urged me to do anything I didn’t want to do, and always respected my choices. Unfortunately, I had decided to break up with him before I left. It was because of a mutual feeling of worry that a long distance relationship wouldn’t work or it would be too hard, so we decided to just break it off. There was very little chance that I‘d be returning to London any time soon. Besides, Harry was a very attractive bloke and I had a feeling that there’d soon be a new girlfriend after my departure.

Jas and I were born to be best mates. Literally. Our moms had been best friends and both got pregnant with us within three or four months of eachother. We had everything in common. Personalities, sense of humor, taste in boys, etc. The only thing that was different about us was our style. She usually wore things from Abercrombie and Fitch or Hollister. I liked things that were more dressy, like baggy shirts, tights, flats, and cardigans. She had always been the more popular girl that fit in, and I was the girl with the strange and somewhat eccentric style.

Jas’s mum had even offered for me to stay in London and live with them. My mum obviously said no, because she needed me to be with her. You should have heard her beg. The only reason that she ‘needed’ me to stay with her was because she wanted someone to yell at and to do chores for her.

The busride to school was long, but when you really don’t want to go somewhere, life takes you there faster. The day looked like it was going to be really hot, the sun was stretching itself over the grass. There was a slight pinkish tinge on the horizon. The skies were clear and smooth. I dismally walked up to the doors and pushed one open, entering another day of hiding myself and minding my own business. And quite frankly, I’d rather if I did. I tried my best to remember where my locker was. I had only been here for two weeks, and already everyone seemed to dislike my differences. I couldn’t imagine how much of an outcast I’d be considered if I didn’t have to wear the conforming catholic school uniform.

I had developed a habit of watching the ground as I walked through the hallways, careful not to look at anyone. I sighed with relief as I neared my locker, and glanced up. There was Sally LaMarre, leaning against my red rectangular locker, smiling at me walking towards her, which was nothing to be relieved about. Her friends whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, her smile looking even more malicious. I was just going to walk right by her. I was clutching my plastic, pink Hello Kitty binder close to my chest, arms crossed over it. My stomach fluttered anxiously.

“Hey, Delilah.” She said in a fakely innocent voice. On the first day that I had started this school, she had decided that she didn’t like me, and I had decided that she was the school skank. She adorned the same school uniform that I did in a much more… let’s say- promiscuous way, to be polite. Three or more buttons from the white blouse were undone, and her skirt had been rolled up more times than nescessary- her flabby bottom was almost peeking out from underneath.

She wasn’t skinny. Actually, she was rather plump, so it was quite disturbing to see her bulge out of the sides of her tiny shirt. She flipped her black hair in a manner that she must have though looked attractive. In my personal opinion, it looked as if all of the muscles in her neck went into a deep spasm simultaneously. People were clustered around us to see what Sally was going to do to the unfortunate soul that was Delilah White this morning.

“Hello.” My voice quavered slightly. I was unsure whether I should just play along with her deranged game, or run away like a loon.

She sneered, “Don’t be so fucking annoying. Why are you just standing there like a retard? Go the fuck away, emo.” I arched my eyebrow. I didn’t know what an emo was, but it sounded like a very rude term. I felt hurt, but I tried my best not to show it.

“You’re on my locker-”

“Can you please just shut the fuck up? I can stand wherever I want to, dyke.” She quickly raised her hands, and thrusted into my chest. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and I was knocked back into the people that were standing behind me. I ironically felt bad for falling into the people who were standing and watching me get teased. I collapsed on them, and they simply shuffled away, acting like they were appalled and horrified that I had touched them. My plastic Hello Kitty binder skidded off out of view, between legs. The dull thunk that echoed in my head told me that I had smacked the wall when I fell. I rested for a moment, legs sprawled crazily infront of me, my back pressed firmly against the cold wall.

I was lucky that I hadn’t gotten a concussion.

“Sally, what the fuck are you doing?” A strong voice rang from the crowd. I recognized the voice from somewhere. I looked around to see who had finally taken a step in my defense, but each face seemed to look like the other. He sounded somewhat musical even through his shouts. “Are you stupid?” He prompted. I almost choked out a laugh, but restrained myself. I craned my neck as far as it would go, but I still couldn’t discern one person from another.

“B-brendon! What’re you doing here?” I noticed that Sally had changed her stance from something rough and intimidating, to something, I’m sure, she thought made her look like a child who was just caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I snorted at her, rolling my eyes. She shot me a glare, and I looked away, once again searching for whoever had cried out.

“I go to school here.” He retorted haughtily. She laughed, quite obviously, fakely. She was so bloody stupid. I growled under my breath. The boy finally emerged out of the crowd to face Sally. “I just don’t understand why you’re so mean to everyone that’s different from you and your little friends.” I saw her jaw drop in angst. And, I knew that I shouldn’t have, but I did feel a little happier.

In his hand, held aloft by the corner, was my plastic binder. I watched Sally stuttering, trying to force out a response as the boy turned rudely around, ignoring her. I watched in horror and embarassment as he actually started walking towards me. My heart thumped in my chest. He was wearing skinny jeans with a simple grey top. His dark hair was some what long, and he had it pushed to the side. He had kind of thick lips, unlike mine which were thin, and a very strong jawline. He had brown eyes which were nicely accompanied by his dark eyebrows.

He bent down and offered me his hand. This had been the very first gesture that anyone had made to me that wasn’t threatening or rude. I noticed people staring at us. I looked back at him, and he smiled. I took his hand, and with a great pull, I was on my feet. I felt stupid and embarassed. I shuffled my feet and studied his shoes, too embarassed to look him in the face. I was flushed. I covered my cheeks with my hands, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the scarlet shade adorning them.

“Hi.” He said. I was stunned. People were turning around and leaving as soon as they noticed Sally had been reduced to a blithering idiot, but I really hadn’t been paying attention to them. He smiled again. He opened his mouth and took a breath in, just about to say something back.

Sally came up from behind him and put her pudgy little hand on his shoulder, singing sweetly. “So, you’ll still think about us going out, Bren?” He closed his mouth and rolled his eyes. He didn’t even bother turning around to face her.

“I don’t believe I had ever even considered that question. So, no.” I watched as Sally draw back, and release a little shriek in frustration. She turned away, and I listened to the rhythmetic clicking of her high heels as she stormed away.

“This is yours, right? I’m Brendon, by the way.” My attention once more landed on the boy. He held out my binder. I inadvertently raised my eyebrow, wondering why he was being so nice.

“Delilah.” I gestured to myself. “Thank-you.” I said.

He shrugged his shoulders modestly, grinning. “No problem.”

*

It happened to be that Brendon was in my math class and in home room. No wonder I had recognized his voice earlier when he was telling off Sally. He was the boy who sat in the back of the class, laughing and talking loudly with the people around him. It didn’t really annoy me. He was actually quite funny. When the teacher would chastise me for listening to my iPod, I’d listen to Brendon’s conversations laughing silently to myself at his jokes.

We walked to homeroom together, making light conversation. I felt strange when he pulled me to sit with his friends. I said hello quietly, awkwardly sitting down in an empty desk. Brendon’s friends asked me questions about myself, and then got into a deep conversation about how disgusting Sally was. I occasionally said something, and I was smiling the entire time.

Later, again to my surprise, he asked me to sit by him in math. I obliged with a small smile and an ecstatic nod. The two girls that Brendon usually talked to took a brief look at me, and then they faced eachother, talking under their breath. Brendon shrugged and gestured towards the desk beside him.

After the teacher stopped talking and left us to do our work, Brendon and I started playing twenty questions.

He was probably one of the most interesting people I’d ever met. He even had formed a band with his friends. He told me that it was still in it’s garage stage, but that they were really awesome. I told him that I really wanted to hear them play sometime. He smiled modestly.

“You’d like the guys. They’re, well, guys, so they joke around a lot, but they’re nice, and don’t mean a lot of the things they say.” He said, shrugging. I ruffled his hair tenderly. He beamed. There wasn’t really a reason why I felt the need to muss his hair. It was just one of the strange ways that I showed my affection.

I agreed. “They sound pretty neat.”

I also found out that he was a Mormon. Which kind of surprised me, since I had heard him swear several times, and we had been previously talking about our personal experiences with alcohol. Before I met Brendon, I thought that all Mormons were nice people that had a lot of children that were very involved in their religion.

Then we started talking about my life. I told him about Harry, we talked about Jas, we talked about school, experiences, and my old cat: Wallace. Pretty much anything that came to my mind, I spilled out. Then, somehow, we got into the unfortunate topic of my family life, or lack there of. I tried to divert his attention to something else, but he seemed persistant.

“So, why’d you move here, anyways. It sounds like you had it pretty good back home. Did your mom get a job transfer or something?” I sighed, and furrowed my eyebrows. He definitely wasn’t Jas, who I could confide in with anything, good or bad, but he seemed honest, and I had this strange compulsion to trust him.

“My mum signed up for this internet dating service a little while ago. She met this guy named Duane, and he convinced her to leave her life down in London to come up here. I tried to talk her out of it, since it was probably the most idiotic idea ever. She’s bound to get hurt, anyways. And I know that he doesn’t care about me or her.” I glanced down, sort of ashamed of the way I had blurted everything out. The impulsive move hadn’t seemed to have offset Brendon at all.

“I’m sure that he just doesn’t know you very well yet.” He said trying to reassure me. But I knew that he was just trying to say something to make me feel better, which did, just a little. Not about Duane, however.

“Hah. No way, Brendon. He’s a homocidial killer, that one.” I smirked. He grinned goofily, and I just couldn’t help but make a face at him. My tongue was sticking out and everything. I had noticed that the teacher had stopped his lecture, and I knew exactly why he had stopped. I could feel the teacher’s glare through the back of my head.

“Miss White, have you been chatting this whole time?” I straightened my posture in faux innocence, and nodded. I had my mouth pursed, trying to purvey that I was going to be quiet from now on. The old, weathered teacher, looked doting, smiled for an instant and then turned around to the board and continued to scratch his seemingly impossible equation on the blackboard. I sighed, relaxing my posture and grinned at Brendon.

Five minutes later, my head was held aloft in my hands, and I was daring myself not to fall asleep. Brendon threw a balled up piece of loose leaf at me. I quietly unwrapped it, and searched for the tiny writing on the wrinkled paper.

You’re coming to my house for lunch.

I smiled at the paper, and began to write back.

Well, alright.
YOU’D BETTER FEED ME.
I AM A COW.
Moo,
Delilah.

I balled up the paper once more, and then took careful aim for his head. I chucked it as hard as I could, it hit right above his ear. He grabbed where I had struck him, and he made a funny face at me. I watched him unwrap the paper just as I had. I watched as he began to laugh mutely. I noticed his braces shining through his smile.


*


I wasn’t sure whether we were actually allowed to leave the school during lunch, but I waited in the parking lot for Brendon without question. I averted the gazes of some boys on the other side of the lot, smoking and talking loudly. I had already eaten the meager plastic ziplock of strawberries this morning in homeroom. My stomach growled loudly.

The sun was warm upon my face. I wished that I would have brought my sunglasses. I twirled my monroe piercing around with my fingers. The November grass was starting to get yellowed and dry. It was strange living in a place that was surrounded by desert. In London, there would probably already be a nice thick layer of snow upon the ground. I made a mental note to ask Jas what the weather was like the next time she texted me.

If she ever texted me…

“Hey! Sorry I took so long.”

I swirled around to see Brendon jogging up to me from behind. He was also wearing subnglasses. They reminded me somewhat of the ones that that Johnny Knoxville bloke always wore. I smiled at Brendon as he neared me.

“Ready to go?” He panted.

I reached over to his face, and pinched the sides of his sunglasses and placed them neatly on my face instead. I gave him a toothy smile.

“Which car is yours?” I asked, watching him squint as the bright sunlight infiltrated the small space between his eyelids.

“The black one there. Hey, those don’t look too bad.” He said as he ruffled my hair with his hands.

“Thanks!” I smiled. “Why is it so bloody hot?” I moaned as I slipped into the front seat of Brendon’s car.
Brendon put the sleek, jet black car into reverse. I glanced out the window. School, Trees, people, cars, Sally.

I had to do a double take like they do in cartoons. Sally LaMarre was stopped frozen on the sidewalk as her friends continued to walk without her. She was glaring straight into the car- mustering her dirtiest look- right at me. Her plump fists were balled up at her sides. She looked as if she was going to march over here and knock me clean out.

I half snorted, feeling safe in the car. Well, maybe I felt safe because Brendon was sitting beside me. But I didn’t see why she had contorted her face in a look of fury. It was her own fault she wasn’t sitting here instead of me. Maybe if she wasn’t such a big prat, she’d have caught Brendon’s attention in a good way. I shrugged, and sighed as the air conditioning hit me at full blast.

“I hope there are baby pictures of you lying around your house, Brendon.” I grinned at him, and he hit his head with his hand. I laughed.

“Dear lord, what am I bringing over to my house?” He joked. I laughed once more.

“Oh, it’s not half bad. I’m only going to look through every photo album in your house until I find a picture of you naked as a baby.” I reasoned.

“Oh, I have plenty of those, but I’m afraid they’re not of when I was a child.” He retorted, raising his eyebrows with a half smirk. I laughed.

“Any music?” I asked a moment later, eyeing the buttons near the dashboard. I pressed the power button and was greeted by a thunderous wave of chords. I jumped back in my seat, surprised. It took a little while, but my ears got used to the loud music and I rolled down my window. We were stopped at a red light and caught the attention of a few kids, no older than fourteen, watching the loud car roll to a stop. I eyed them curiously before I started to shake my head like a rock star at a concert. I stopped after a moment, and they all had their eyebrows raised. I waved to them as we started moving forward once more.

I looked over at Brendon, and realized that the music was too loud for me to even hear him laughing. I turned it down a bit as we neared a nice looking two-storey house with a freshly mown lawn and a few neatly kept flower beds. The house was a light egg blue with frilly curtains on the inside. Brendon led me up to the front door, unlocked it with his jingling keys. He gestured for me to go in first.

The entire place smelt like lemon cleaning solution. It looked like your typical American home. I was in the living room. Bookshelves, potted plants, couches, and a nice television in the corner were placed strategically around the room. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Everything seemed like it had been scrubbed numerous times. The only strange thing about the place was that almost anything that had a flat surface was covered in doilies and little ceramic kittens.

“My grandma likes to knit.” He explained, sounding extremely embarassed and annoyed at the same time. I slipped off my flats, leaving them near the closet, beside Brendon’s, and walked over to the couch.

“What’s for lunch, my dear?” I asked. He plopped on the sofa next to me.

“Dunno. We have left over pizza from last night. Or we can make peanut butter toast.” He suggested, shrugging. I hopped up dramatically, with a smile on my face.

“PEANUT BUTTER TOAST!” I cried happily. Brendon got up, grinning. He started walking, and beckoned me to follow him. I decided that I liked Brendon’s house. The carpeted hallway smelt strongly of febreze spray. Many family pictures on the wall. I studied each one quickly as I past.

There was a picture of a small girl. An old woman with a worn smile on her face that I assumed must have been Brendon’s grandmother. A picture with four people, one of them was Brendon, standing behind (presumably), his mother. I saw something with my peripherals, and screeched to a stop. “Wait one second, mister!” I walked back a step, searching for the monocromatic pictures that had caught my attention.

“Oh, don’t look at those!” He cried, but it was too late. I let out a defiant ‘Hah!’ as I found exactly what I was looking for. It was a wide frame that held four black and white pictures of the same boy. They were all of Brendon’s highschool photos from Freshman year to this years photo. I grinned widely, and then turned to Brendon.

“BRENDON! You are so adorable! Look at this! You didn’t tell me you wore glasses. And look at this one, you were such a little cutie! Look at you! Your sophmore photo!” I squealed. He rolled his eyes, he got behind me again, and held onto my shoulders steering me into his kitchen.

“Let’s pretend you didn’t see those. C’mon, I’m hungry.” I tried to look back at the pictures, but Brendon just walked faster. He took me into a large gleaming kitchen, complete with an island in the center, and then let me go. I sat on the counter as he got a bag of bread out of the cupboard. I hopped back down, and walked to Brendon, peering over his shoulder even though there was plenty of room along the counter.

“Thanks for having me over.” I said, helping him load pieces of toast into the four-slotted toaster.

“Anytime. It gets boring here sometimes.” He pressed down on the tab. I leaned over the counter, peering into the toaster. I watched the elements redden.

“What? With all these kitties?” I joked. He chuckled. I pulled away from the toaster as I realised my hair had been hanging only inches over the exposed element.

I froze. Someone was stomping around in the other room. The front door closed with a loud slam. I looked over at Brendon. He didn’t seem bothered by it, so I assumed it was normal.

“BRENDON?” I heard a deep, masculine voice bellow from the living room. There were definitely two or more of them since I heard laughter and more blundering about. “HAVE YOU GOT A GIRL HERE, BRENDON? WHERE ARE YOU? HAVE YOU SHOWN HER YOUR EROTIC OUTFIT YET? CAN I SEE IT TOO?”
Brendon rolled his eyes. I stifled a laugh.

“KITCHEN.” He yelled back, even though it was unessecary to be shouting so loudly. The toast had popped up suddenly from the toaster, and he brought out the peanut butter, two butter knives, and two small, decorated porcelain plates.

“Excellent!” I said, trying to sound less anxious than I felt. I listened, getting more nervous as their footsteps crashed closer.


“Whoa, stick-boy, I didn’t know you were so strong.” I heard a lot of noise from the hallway. I twiddled with my thumbs. I hoped they liked me. I hoped they didn’t think I looked strange. And I most certainly hoped that they wouldn’t try to talk to me in case I made an idiot out of myself.

“Shut-up.” Replied another, sounding annoyed, even through his laughter.

They came into the kitchen one after the other. I only had a short time to analyze each one as they walked in.

The first one looked happy. His face was oval shaped with hair that swept neatly over his forehead. He has a clean shaven face, and a big grin splashed on his face. The white tile in the kitchen made his vibrant yellow, v-neck shirt stick out boldly. He was about average weight, and a few inches taller than Brendon, which meant he towered above me. He flashed a neat smile in my direction, and I immediately returned it before he sat down.

“That’s Spencer.” Brendon muttered as he spread peanut butter on a slice of toast.

The next one slinked into the room. He had a face that was thin and long. He too, looked rather attractive. He had some stubble over his lower face and chin, making him older looking. He was wearing flip flops with baggy shorts. His round eyes studied me seriouslyfor a moment, until he sent a boisterous and somewhat mischeivious looking smile my way. I half grinned, watching as he walked over to the fridge and started rummaging through it, searching for something to eat.

“Jon.” Brendon gestured.

I waited only a moment, thinking to myself that Jon and Spencer must’ve been the only two since no one else seemed to be coming through the kitchen door. I almost turned around when the last boy came quietly stumbling into the room. He had longish hair that swept to the side, in a similar manner as Brendon’s and Spencer’s hair did. He seemed to stand out, even though if he turned to the side, he would have been thinner than a piece of paper. I studied his lean body, enviously. I gave a downward glance at myself and covered my stomach by overlapping it with my arms.

His hazel eyes rested on me for a moment, and then darted away nervously.

“And that’s Ryan.” Brendon said. “Isn’t Brent here?” He asked Spencer a little more loudly. Spencer shrugged and began digging through Brendon’s fridge with Jon.

“He had to go and see his grandma again. That woman is absolutely crazy.” Spencer replied dully.

“Well, anyways-” Brendon announced. “This is Delilah. She’s from London. She’s awesome.” He said animatedly. I smiled as Jon, Spencer, and Ryan greeted me with enthusiastic ‘Hello’s’. Brendon passed me the toast, and I thanked him.

“Well, Brend. You can’t tell me that you two were just eating toast in here.” Piped in Jon. “I know you’re not one to jump into things, buddy, but you can’t waste too much time.” He said sarcasticly. I smiled.

My eyes fell on Ryan again, who was typing away on his phone. He was wearing a nice maroon top with dark skinny trousers. It was strange how captivated I felt looking at him, even in such simple attire. Jon tossed a plastic cup at Ryan from across the room. Ryan jumped back as the cup clattered on the floor. He glared at Jon for a moment, until the corners of his mouth twitched and finally a toothy grin formed. His teeth were white and straight.

His eyes met mine, and I snapped my head away quickly, stuffing the last bit of toast into my mouth roughly.

“RYAN STOP LURKING IN THE DOORWAY.” Jon hollered at him. Ryan rolled his eyes and sauntered a few steps into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. “Get up from there and stop being so anti-social. Go meet some new people for a change.” Jon hoisted Ryan up, and gave him a general shove in my direction. Ryan kept walking towards me, sending glares at Jon over his shoulder. I looked down at my empty plate, trying to hide the embarassed look on my face. I didn’t see why Jon was forcing him to come over here, when he obviously didn’t want anything to do with me.

Cute boys rarely did.

“Hello.” He said dimly.

I reluctantly tore my eyes away from my crumb strewn plate. “Hey.” We were quiet for an awkward moment.

“You go to Bishop Gorman?” He asked, eyeing my uniform. I nodded.

“Mhm.”

“Me too.” He said quietly. Then in a louder tone, and a smile on his face, he said, “But when Jon shows up at your house at six o’clock in the morning and begs you to skip school and hang out with him, you can’t say no.” He smiled. I grinned back, relieved that he wasn’t as upset to be talking to me as I assumed he had been. Jon shrugged and continued his hunt for something to eat.

In an undertone and a frustrated glance at Jon, he said, “Literally.”

“Jon looks older?” I asked, stealing a momentary look at Jon.

Ryan shrugged. “Only by a year. How do you like it at BG so far?” He asked.

“It’s-” I decided not to tell that I absolutely hated it for numerous reasons including but certainly not limited to Sally, swotty old teachers, and short lunch periods. “Alright.” I reasoned.

“I don’t really like it. The people there aren’t friendly and the teachers are lazy.” He shrugged again. I smiled. It was strange how much alike we thought.

“I agree. I like your hair.” I said, a little embarrased. He smiled mussed his hair, discreetly proud.

“It’s alright.” He said modestly, a grin plastered on his face.

“It’s cute.” I corrected.

"Cute, Huh?" He grinned and puffed out his chest, placing his hands on his hips in a joking manner.

I laughed. "Of course! Er, but-" I leaned closer to him, and lowered my voice to barely a whisper. "D'you know where the lavatory is?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, follow me." He started walking back through the hallway and I followed his lead, leaving the other three behind. None of them said anything to us. I guess they didn’t notice us sidle off. We took a small u-turn at the end of the hallway and marched up the stairs. He showed me to the first door on the left. I closed the door, even though I actually didn't need to use the toilet.

It was always wierd to be in someone else's bathroom for the first time. There were no ceramic cats upon the flat, cool surfaces. Instead, large fake seashells, a soap holder, and a little jar with a few toothbrushes in it all adorned the bluish grey granite. I had to do a double take at the white porcelain bowl. I turned to get a good side look at myself in the mirror.

I felt angry looking at my stomach. I was frustrated. I knew that I would never be skinny enough. I glanced back at the toilet, and looked at the door very quietly. I didn’t hear anyone out there… I wondered if Ryan was still there. No, I thought. He'd be back downstairs already. Very quickly, I was on my knees, leaning over the toilet seat. I held my breath, and plunged my finger deep down my throat.

"Are you alright, Delilah?" I froze. I jumped up, flushing the toilet and rushing to turn the tap on. I splashed around my mouth and in it, trying to get rid of any scent and taste that I had left.

"Oh, right. I'm fine." I said, hurried. I reached into my pocket, and pulled out a warm stick of gum. I chewed it quickly, and then rubbed it around in my mouth with my tongue. I quickly puffed up my hair with my hands, and then turned the door knob, exposing Ryan, looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"I thought I heard-"

"I've been feeling a little off since this morning. Don't worry about it." I quickly lied to him, to avoid any questions that he had on his mind. "So… I thought you would have already been downstairs by now." I shuffled, feeling stupid for asking this. I prayed that it didn't seem to suspicious.

He smiled. "Didn't want you to get lost on the way back." I laughed. We hopped down the stairs once again, meeting up with Spencer, Jon, and Brendon waiting for us at the front door. Brendon’s eyebrow was raised apprehensively.

"Hey man, don't go around making-out with Brendon's new chick." Spencer joked, elbowing Ryan as he leaned over to slip his shoes on.

"He was just being a gentleman, and escorting me to the lady's lavatory." I said defiantly.

"You should have let me escort you to the lavatory! Right, Spencer?" Jon came up to me, and flung his arm around my shoulders.

Spencer just said, "Shut up, Jon." and walked out the front door.

"Here, make yourself useful." I told Jon, putting my hand on his shoulder for balance, as I put on my shoes. Brendon was already outside, waiting by his car. He beckoned me out to him and I bid farewell to Jon, and ruffled Ryan's hair.

“See you guys soon?” I asked hopefully. They nodded, smiling in synchronization.

As Brendon and I pulled out of the driveway, the last thing I heard Ryan say was, "No, god damnit. It's my car! Get out of the driver’s seat!"