Dead Angelica Version 20 *-* You Ripped My Heart Out Of Me, Then You Put It Back
A Baby?! Chapter 5- "Glittery Pink Lipgloss"
Love. What a weird word.
I love my band. I love my artwork. I love The Nightmare Before Christmas. I love Silverchair.
I love my friends, my parents, my family.
I used to also love Jessica. Strange how quickly that changed. Maybe it was never real love.
And yet... would that improve the situation, if I never loved her? Somehow... I feel that it's better for me to have loved her, the person she was. Because if we never loved each other... then it would have been sex without love, and I don't believe in that. Oh, God, this is so complicated.
I also used to believe that love never ends, that there'll always be a place in your heart for the people you have loved. But, somehow, that's not true. I don't love Jessica anymore, what I feel towards her isn't exactly hate, either. I guess I kind of pity her, and I resent her for taking action over her pregnancy without consulting me. And I'm hurt that I could have known and loved someone for a year and yet she didn't trust or care about me enough to talk to me before making a massive life-and-death decision.
Well, I guess times change, people change, circumstances change.
Well, mo. I guess we, the people we are, we didn't change. But when our circumstances changes, different sides of us emerged.
I'm in school, thinking to myself and listening to Rancid on my own. My friends all have a different lunch period to me, and Jessica... I don't know where she is. I saw her in registration, but she turned her face away.
I close my eyes in order to think better, resting my arm against my bag which is sitting on the empty seat next to me.
Suddenly my Rancid tape hitches and stops. I open my eyes, and -ohmyGod- I'm looking straight into the face of Sam Cartland, a particularly vicious specimen of jock.
"Fairy Billy!" he begins. Okay, what the fuck is up with that?! I swear I never heard anyone call me that before.
"Can I, uh, have my, y'know, tape back?" I ask tentatively. The earphones that he yanked out of me dangle between his fingers.
"When I'm done," he says. Oh my God. The whole lunchroom has stopped chewing, and they've all turned around to look. They are looking. At me. Shy lil' Billy. Oh no.
"I want to tell you to stay away from my new girlfriend," says Sam. Woah, I did not expect that.
"Uh... shouldn't be a problem," I say nervously.
Sam steps aside to reveal the familiar figure of Jessica.
I can't help gasping. Oh no, oh no, oh no. How could she?! I know we're really different. We don't even like the same type of music. But to go from me to single-brain-celled Sam Cartland? Okay, now I sound up-myself. But still.
"Oh my God Jessy!" Yes, I'm aware that came out as a squeak. The entire lunchroom is laughing at me, as my usually deathly-white cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson.
"I can't believe I actually went out with someone who wears lipgloss," she says. The lunchroom gets another laugh. My God, Jess is actually enjoying this. Shy, quiet Jess who normally hates the limelight is actually enjoying being the center of attention. Well I guess that's popularity for you. Wait a minute... did she just insult my lipgloss?! My favourite glittery pink lipgloss that I had to get from New York? Hey! No-one gets away with that! I stand up.
"What's wrong with glittery pink lipgloss?" I ask. Hey, that was actually pretty bold of me.
The bell for second lunch rings, but no-one in the lunchroom seems to want to miss this. Sam puts his big ugly jock face (yeah, I know I shouldn't generalise, but he is actually the stereotypical jock) next to mine, and mimics what I said.
"What's wrong with glittery pink lipgloss?! I'll tell you what's fucking wrong with it, Martin. It's fucking LIPGLOSS, that is what is wrong with it. You queer. You weirdo. You're nothing but a waste of space. You fucking make me sick. Homos like you should be locked away. You fucking freak..."
And suddenly Sam stops speaking; his head smashes forward onto my table as someone slams him from behind.
Oh my God, it's Benji; flanked by Joel, Paul and Aaron. And he looks fucking angry.
"Leave him alone, Cartland," Benji growls, hatred oozing out of every pore. "What kind of fucking coward are you, he's two years younger than you. Pick on someone your own size."
Sam gets up, his eyes flashing in anger. "Someone my own size? Someone like... you." Sam spits, full in Benji's face. Fuck. I'm too shocked to move a muscle. Sam follows his spit with a fist.
Benji is lying on the floor, a line of blood trailing from his nose. Sam has gone, people have gone back to eating their lunches. Joel is dabbing at Benji with a tissue. Shit, what the fuck just happened?! Did Benji just get punched by Sam Cartland for me? I'm still sitting there uselessly, staring.
"Bill? You alright?" asks Paul, sitting down next to me.
"I... I think so," I murmur.
I stay with the guys while they eat, even though I'm not supposed to. After lunch, I have another double of Art. Mara and Sarah have both heard about the, uh, 'incident'; and being girls, they want to gossip about it. I'm in a bitchy mood, so I whine to them.
"Benji's so lovely, isn't he, sticking up for you like that," smiles Mara.
Isn't he just. God, I wish I could be brave like that. I'm just lil' Billy, I can't even sort out my own life. I feel like I'm drowning. I don't know what to do, I don't know where to turn.
I guess I'll just have to keep going. I won't forget, I'll never forget, but I'll have to put the past behind me, move on.
I can get over this. I just need time.
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