Dear Ex-Girlfriend (Lesbian, Girlxg... - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Friends were like gums. You go to the candy store, see a bunch of options, decide your flavor, and buy them. Maybe stole them if you wanted to go to juvie. Maybe they were given to you, or you found them. The point was, they become your bubblegum. You chew them, enjoy them, and if there was a chance that you still like them, you take another one of the same flavor.
In a way, I was like that to Genesis too. She'd found me, savored me, and when she was done, she spat me out. But I was through with the blame game. She'd proven herself in Spencer's dares. What I wanted to know was where she was, why she hadn't come to school for a week, and whether she was in trouble. Chewing gum, remember? She could throw me out but I'd stick to her.
Rolls? Spencer's scrawl of a handwriting said.
He was still looking at me when I glanced at him. He tapped his pen on his desk, waiting for my reply.
I shook my head and concentrated in front where the teacher was discussing the Mayan civilization. Or was it sex ed? I wasn't listening.
After a while, another piece of paper landed in front of me. I smoothed it out and frowned.
Don't stress too much. She could be sick.
Yeah, whatever. Genesis was the last person on earth to get sick. I crumpled the paper and tossed it to his desk. He didn't look happy about it.
She could have been bitten by a stray. His next note began. Spencer had slipped it again in front of me when I thought he'd given up. Imagine this, Destiny. Gene was going somewhere, encountered a dog, pissed it off for some reason, and got bitten. What do you think follows next? Irritability, mood swings, absenteeism. She'll be alright though. She always pulls through.
The gloat on Spencer's face was too much when I stared at him. Was he crazy?
"Leave me alone," I whispered. "I'm trying to listen to the teacher."
"No way." He leaned closer to me and murmured. "You've been a zombie for days. I want my Destiny back."
"I'm not even your Destiny. Only Genesis ca—"
"Genesis is not here."
"Thank you, captain obvious."
The two of us stopped talking when the teacher paused to check his book. We were back at it again the moment he turned around to write on the board.
"Why aren't you worried?" I asked. "For all we know, the Governor could have done something to her."
"Because this isn't Star Wars. Not every father is an evil ass."
"This isn't Barney and Friends either, Spence. We're not all dino pals. Look at Gaby."
"Point taken," he murmured. "But I still rest my case about being bitten by the dog. It's hot outside. Anything could have happened."
I've settled on my seat, prepared to ignore him, when the last piece of paper reached my hand.
If it makes you feel better, I'll ask Brad if Genesis was bitten. She is his girlfriend. He'd be worried about her too. . . Hold up, I just thought of something. Brad likes to play hooky sometimes. Maybe he's making out with Genesis right now. That's why she was absent. Slick.
I crushed the note between my palms and threw it to his face. "The hell are you telling me this for?!"
Spencer's eyes widened in shock. "I was just. . ."
"Enough already! If she was bitten by a dog, she'd have rabies, okay?! And why would she play hooky with that. . . With that guy?!"
"Miss Jones, what's going on?"
Spencer and I turned to Mr. Williams in front. He'd stopped writing on the board, arms folded, giving us accusing glares. The rest of the class was just baffled at my outburst.
"I think I just had my period," I said without a flinch. "Can I go to the nurse's office and grab some pads before I make a mess of myself here?"
Mr. Williams unfolded his arms and rubbed the back of his head. "You're excused."
I gave Spencer a reprimanding stare while getting up. He got me all worked up, so now I was going to leave him to fend for himself. Adios amigos.
The silence was startlingly soothing as I went through the hallway. There were no gossips, no laughter, no people telling you of what you could and couldn't do. Must be the reason why I stuck with puppets too. They kept their opinions to themselves.
After walking with no direction, I was surprised to find myself standing in front of a door. It was familiar and foreign, the wardrobe to the confused lion in my chest. And like a witch seeking for magic, I turned the knob and entered.
The three of them were inside like the last time. Suited in protective gear, tools on their hands, wood on the table, they didn't appear to have heard me even after I've shut the door behind. It gave me time to look around. Get a feel of things. I was at home yet strangely distant. This wasn't my father's workshop.
I was figuring out whether it was wood shaving I was smelling or someone's perfume when one of them elbowed the other, pointed to me, and stopped their activity. Woody was first to remove her goggle. "Destiny, you're back."
"Hey." I gave her a wave. "Woody, right?"
"Same old. What are you doing here? Don't you have a class?" She'd removed her gloves while asking the questions, rolled her sleeves, and smiled. Two times I've seen her and she was still wearing plaid. A different color this time.
"I got excused for my period," I said. "How about you guys? Don't you have classes?"
The potatoes, if I remembered clearly, gave each other a look. They were like Spencer and Ester in a way, except both of them were women. There was something different about the stare they shared too. Kind of what Genesis and I used to do before. It made my chest ache.
"It's our break," one of the potatoes said.
"Oh. . . Alright. . ." I looked from one potato to the other. "By the way, don't you have other names I can call? It's weird to call you potatoes."
The girl with the shorter hair smirked at me. "How about you call me top and you call her bottom?"
"E-excuse me?"
The girl with the longer hair rolled her eyes. There were freckles on her face but somehow that made her smile more genuine. She elbowed the potato next to her and said, "Don't believe her, I've always been the top."
"Top what?" I said.
"You know, top. . ." She sighed. "Like with you and the Governor's daughter?"
"Uhm, I'm not sure. . ."
"It's okay," Woody cut off. "It's 2009. There are some changes, but it will take a while to get everyone on board." Her gaze went to assess me. "Besides, the girl has been living in Bear Creek all her life."
"Is that an insult?" I said.
"It's a compliment."
It didn't feel like one. It was as if they were speaking a language I couldn't understand, and it was messing me up.
"I should probably get to class," I excused.
"Drop by anytime," a potato invited.
I doubt that.
I've never walked on a tightrope before. I didn't think I could. But on my way home that afternoon, it felt like I was balancing on a cord, seconds away from death, watching my life flash before me.
Obviously, this was all a metaphor to soften the blow. Because if I was to say it in plain truth, I would have no choice but to accept that I saw Gaby riding her convertible on the way home, top down, looking like a ghost, the basket beside her. What basket? Genesis' basket. The one that used to go back and forth between our rooms to deliver messages when we were younger.
I jumped in front of Gaby's car.
"Jesus H. Christ! What the fuck, Destiny?!" Her hair was still ruffled even after the car screeched to a stop. I ignored it as I went to her door.
"Get out, Gaby. We need to talk."
She had the bravado to pinch her eyes at me. "Do you think I'll really do that?"
I bent on the ground and took a rock. They were conveniently there when you needed them. "I don't care how expensive your car is. I'll smash your windshield. I swear."
There was a second of panic on her face before she decided to follow my demands. By the time she got out of the convertible, her expression was smooth, her brows on fleek, her cat's eye makeup shocking against the paleness of her skin. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "What do you want?"
My fingers trembled as I pointed to the convertible's passenger seat. "Where did you get that?"
She followed my gaze. "Oh that. . . I had it lying around."
The stone on my hand mysteriously hit the car hood. Oops.
She swiveled to me. "What's the big deal?!"
"The big deal is you're lying. The basket is mine." It was considerably hard not to freak out when I was seconds away from punching someone.
"It's Genesis' too," she said.
"Yes! Perfect! It's ours, not yours. You don't have a right to steal it."
"I didn't steal it. She put it in the trash."
The buzz on my ear was too loud to let me think. I just stood there, mouth hanging open, looking at her like an idiot.
Gaby exhaled and went to the hood to check the damage I've done. There might be a small dent or something, but it was nothing compared to what I was feeling. She'd struck me without throwing anything.
"Look, you think you know my sister, but you really don't." She smoothed her hand on the hood and shook her head. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stick to the twins, play with your puppets, and leave Genesis alone."
Her words were a defibrillator to my chest. "I know her better than you do," I scoffed. "She hates you."
"She hates you more," Gaby said.
Was she deluded? How could Gene hate me?
"She let me ride behind her," I reasoned. "She protected me. She wanted us to be friends again."
Gaby's laugh was irritatingly loud. "You are such a kid, Destiny."
"Yeah? Well you're a bitch, Gabrielle."
There was no trace of annoyance on her as she got back to the side of the car. She even patted my shoulder. "I'm trying to protect you here, kiddo. Believe me. One day you'll even thank me for preventing your life from turning into a disaster." She entered the car and shut the door. "I wasn't lying about the basket either. She really did put it in the trash."
My head was overfilled with thoughts when I reached the house. I could write a novel with it—story starring Destiny Jones. I'd burn it before people touched the first page.
"Is that you?" Dad called from the kitchen. "Have a snack with me." There was a funky smell in the air. He must be making something.
"I'm heading to my room," I said.
"How was school first?"
"Can we move to Alaska?"
He cut me off at the bottom of the stairs, a sandwich clasped on his right hand. "Bad day?" he asked.
"I. . . It was. . . I hate people!" I pushed him out of the way so I could run the steps that would take me to my sanctuary. There was no point in talking to anyone. The day couldn't get worse.
The branch outside my window woke me up. It was scratching, scraping, and even though I've tried to ignore it, the constant noise made me open my eyes and groan. It was past twelve midnight, certainly not the time to wake up. But you know how brains work. Once they're up, they're up, and they wouldn't leave you alone until they've made you guilty, restless, and crying because of previous mistakes. Damn you, brain.
I threw the covers off and sat on the bed for a full minute. All the while the branch continued to scratch on my window.
Scritch scratch.
Scritch scratch.
Until I realized that there wasn't supposed to be tree there, or a branch.
A pale face was grinning at me when I jerked my head to the glass pane. It had large eyes, razor-sharp teeth, and was moving its hands like it was dying to kill me.
"Open the window, Des," the monster said.
Huh?
"My God, just open the window already. We're shivering out here."
I realized that the monster wasn't a monster after all, but Spencer with a flashlight on his face, rapping on the glass. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I mumbled.
Cold air blew on my face when the window was finally open. Spencer looked below him and made the thumbs up. "It's okay. She's here."
I glanced at the sleeping neighborhood, then back to him. "What are you doing?" I whispered. "Is Ester with you?"
"Yeah. We'll explain everything later. Just come." His arms and legs worked together so he could reach the ground. It was only then that I noticed his twin standing in the shadow, a hoodie over her head. Both of them motioned for me to follow.
"Give me a second," I said.
One of the coolest things about the Gonzales was how they never hindered the twins. While other parents would get worried at Spencer's tendencies for rowdiness, they gave him proper guidance so he wouldn't hurt himself. When he asked for a toy gun when we were kids, they gave him a slingshot and taught him not to use it on people or animals. When he got to the stage when he wanted to punch people, they enrolled him to a short-course for boxing.
The ladder I was using today was also one of those gifts. It was a rope ladder with hooks on the end, perfect for climbing things. He asked them and they gave it, with a special promise that he wouldn't use it for criminal activities.
"Yo," Spencer said when I've made it down. He'd also worn a hoodie over his head, though that didn't hide the excited twinkle on his eyes.
"I've been calling you," Ester said.
"I was asleep."
"Never mind. We should hurry."
"Hurry where?"
Spencer put an arm around Ester. "Give her a minute to take this in, sis. Not everyone is an Einstein."
I punched his chest. "You just called me stupid, stupid."
"I didn't. I thought it was a compliment, actually. It means. . ."
"Okay, okay," Ester intervened. "What Spencer meant was you just woke up so your head is all woozy. But we really should go, Des. The window of opportunity is closing."
Spence took hold of the rope, whipped it upward, and readied himself to catch the falling hooks. It was safe on his hands when he turned to me again. "I'm sorry for making you think that I wasn't worried about Genesis," he said. "I am. Ester and I are."
"Very," Ester agreed. "Which is why tonight, we'll helping you climb her window. It's time for a visit."
I was right about friends wasn't I? Most of them were bubblegum. There might be times when they lose their flavor, but once they've attached themselves to you, it would be hard to get rid of them.