Young Writers Society

Heaving heavily in, my mind swirled with random thoughts. Walking through the hallways was usually my only escape. It was a time when I was alone. I loved to think that I was just another girl at school, walking through the hallways. In some ways I was, to people who didn’t know me and people who didn’t care or pay attention to Damien. I was just another girl, and I loved that feeling. I was normal. I was just another girl, but in reality life was not that simple.

Teenagers swarmed the hallways, the noise was loud and demanding some voices carried better then the others. Talking about there boyfriends and talking about there stupid parents. I clicked my tongue, and pushed past a couple of girls standing in the middle of the hallway. I didn’t look back at them because I knew a dirty look would follow my being.

We had two textbooks in English and one in math, then again with binders, and everything else. I guess my arms should feel like this, as if they were about to fall off. I scrambled over to my locker, fidgeting with the lock till it came undone. As I lifted my arms out to put all my stuff in, a bright flash blinded me and my books tumbled through my hands and to the floor, me falling along with it all. Two more flashing went off.

“Nicely done Beth! This will look great in the year book,” Laughter followed from multiple mouths. I looked up seeing Bret and his crew. They were the jocks; they took all the easy courses like yearbook and foods so they could focus on football and Rugby.

“Another classic!” Another common saying and more laughter followed. I am very clumsy and shy willed, I do a lot of stuff like this. I picked myself up quietly, shoving all my books in the locker and walked off with my coat. I wouldn’t scoop down to their level. Especially when tears were growing at the side of my eyes.

“Beth!” Damien yelled. I froze and closed my eyes. I could feel his body pressing against me. He grabbed my coat and I could feel him easing it on to my arms and up my shoulders. His hands were cold on my bare arms, when he had it on; he eased his hands down the side of my body caressing my breasts. I grabbed his wrists and pushed them away. When I finally opening my eyes, his face was inches from my mine. I took a step back only to have him take a step forward.

“P…please…” I begged. The tears swelled up faster. No, please… This can’t happen… I hate crying this much… At the time it seemed really stupid how much I had cried in the last year. I was never happy. Never. He back away, grabbed my hand and led me toward the parking lot. His rusty black pickup truck stood there as strong as it could. We moved towards it, my feet rubbing against the sole of my shoes. His hands roughly clenched my dry wrist; I felt a serge weight pulling me like chackles on a prisoner.

The car ride was short and luckily so. I saw a large brick building form beside the truck. I neon sign blinking uncontrollably and a blue door swung in and out. I looked at the curved neon tubes that formed the familiar words that slowed my heart and made me feel more secure in his presence. Diner.

He got out of the truck slamming the door and gently re-opening mine. He always seemed to have mood swings, one minute he was fierce and demanding like a captor to his captive and other moments he was as gentile as a textile fabric, that is soft against your skin, something you would never be scared of. I easily took his hand, and he led me into the diner.

This was the one place in town that had a bit of history to it, the 60’s seemed stuck in this little building like a song bird stuck in a cage. The loud swing music blared, and soft red cushioned chairs lined the sides of the building. A burger bar sat in the middle, with sugar frosted cups, burgers and fries and order slips being slashed to dash. Servers were in blue 60’s dresses and roller skates, they were talking to the customers and laughing with joy. I smile tipped the side of my mouth and we were led to a table. The diner was as busy as always, teens came here just like they did in the decades before, with they friends ordering milkshakes and onion rings.

We sate down comfortably, him on one side of the table me on the other, I picked up a menu and glanced at the pages, I knew what I wanted but this gave me something to do so Damien would keep quite. I flipped the pages lightly, my fingers gripping the side of the page and jilted it to the other side, for me to only find more options for me to order. The menu never changed.

“So.” Damien started, I knew this was coming, barley a year left till high school was over. He wanted a plan, for us to move in… move away… I didn’t even know anymore, I didn’t want to know. I looked up annoyed, maybe if I did he would wait till later to talk about this.

“I think we should move to Montreal. I want to go to McGill for university, we both can” He said, I looked away. Why? Why was this happening to me? I looked out the window noticing a silvery blue corvette parking outside the Diner. We never saw fancy cars like that in small town Winter Saskatchewan. The car parked easily, the door opened and Brandon stepped out. My heart skipped a beat. His brown hair swirled around in the wind and his leather jacket perfectly molded to his muscular frame. I felt a strong hand grab my jaw, and wiped my head forward. Damien sat there looking at innocent as ever.

“Did you hear me love?” He raged fiercely. I nodded and he let me go. I heard the door open and the small chimes above them ringing delightfully. I could hear Brandon as he walked through the diner and towards us. Damien looked up and smiled.

“Brandon! my man!” They slapped hands, and he sat down beside Damien and across from me. I was so shocked. I didn’t know they knew each other. I guess they must have had classes after Mr. Bull’s class. He looked at me strongly, his dark blue eyes darting into mine. It was if he saw something in me. Something nobody else could see. Maybe it was happiness, or maybe it was courage.

“You’re Elizabeth, right?” Brandon asked me. I looked at him, was he truly interested? He really confused me; I had never met someone like him, someone I couldn’t read. His eyes told me nothing, they looked said but happy at the same time, it was as if his whole life was held in those eyes. Those dark blue eyes.

“Uh… yes. You can call m…me Beth” I staggered. The consoler at school thought I had a speech problem, but I only stuttered when Damien was around, when I could feel his presence. Usually he would wait for me outside the consoler’s office. So I always knew he was there. Damien looked at me and grabbed my hand. I tried to pull it away but he grabbed it and held my hand in his, digging his finger nails in my palm to warn me not to try that again. The waitress came to our table and asked for our order. Damien spoke for us all and ordered two chocolate milkshakes, a glass of water, three cheese burgers, and a large order of fries.

“So Brandon, how do you like Winter, Saskatchewan so far?” Damien asked, he was still holding my hand.

“It’s small… very small” Brandon answered, leaned back in the booth and sighed, resting his head on the back of the seat.

“W…why did you move here?” I asked, he looked up at me and smiled. I shrank back in the red leather cushion.

“This is where my only family is left. My parents died a couple years ago, and my god mother died last week. My grandma lives here in town” He answered.

“I’m sorry” I said. I looked at him directly. I didn’t stutter. My breath quickened, and my heart danced in my chest. This guy was like no one I had ever met. I felt something for him. I noticed the gentleness in his ways. The way he had sat down, the way he looked at me. As if he was trying to figure me out as well. Damien let go of my hand, and look pulled out his phone. He frowned.

“I have to go you guys. Bret needs me” Brandon stood up to let Damien out, Damien walked to my side of the table and laid a quick kiss on my cheek.

“Take her home for me, will ya?” Damien asked Brandon, Brandon nodded and Damien walked away.