- Haven and Miles are already there , by the time I arrive at our
usual table. But seeing Damen sitting with them, I hesitate to run back.
- You can stay if you want, Miles laughs, as long as you
Stop looking at the new guy that way. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it was very rude?
I roll my eyes and sit next to Damen, to prove to them that his presence leaves me indifferent.
- What do you want, I was raised by wolves, I said, unwrapping my sandwich with feigned nonchalance.
- And I, by a drag queen and an author of rose-tinted novels, adds Miles, pricking a kernel of candy corn on the Halloween-colored cake that Haven is eating.
- Sorry, my darling! giggles my friend. That was Chandler
in Friends, not you! I, on the other hand, was raised by witches, you see. I was a beautiful vampire princess, adored,
admired and cherished by all. I lived in a luxurious Gothic castle, and I have no idea what I did to find myself at this rotten table with losers like you. And you, Damen? He takes a sip of a curious liquid with an iridescent scarlet color,
in a glass bottle, and looks at us in turn, smiling.
- Italy, France, England, Spain, Belgium, New York, New Orleans, Oregon, India, New Mexico, Egypt and so on.
Haven giggles and throws another kernel of candy corn at Miles.
- You wouldn’t be the son of a soldier, by any chance?
Miles swallows the candy, which he washes down with a sip of vitamin water.
- Have you lived in Oregon? Damen agrees:
- In Portland.
- Excuse me, I was talking to Ever. Did you live in Oregon, Ever?
Which earns him a murderous look from Haven, who, despite my
mistake of this morning, still considers me as the main obstacle between her and true love, and does not appreciate the attention being focused on me.
- Oh yes ? Where ? Damen asks.
I keep my eyes fixed on my sandwich, because,
exactly like earlier in class, I only hear him as soon as he opens his mouth.
- To Eugene.
Every time our eyes meet, my body warms up. And when his foot brushed against mine two seconds ago, I was seized with shivers.
Which is really starting to freak me out.
He leans towards me, forcing Haven closer to him.
I look down and purse my lips, my nervous tic. I don’t want to talk about my life before. I don’t see the point in sharing the gory details. To have to explain that I am
responsible for the death of my family, but for some reason I survived.
- “It’s a long story,” I said simply, scraping the crust off my sandwich.
I feel Damen’s gaze fixed on me – insistent, warm, comforting. From nervousness, my hands are so sweaty that I drop my water bottle.
But before the bottle hits the table, Damen
catches it on the fly and gives it back to me. Confused, I don’t dare look at him and wonder if I’m the only one who noticed that he moved so quickly that he became blurry just now.
Then Miles asks her to tell her story about what it was like in New York, and Haven clings so close to him that she’s almost sitting on his lap. I take a deep breath and finish lunch while trying to convince myself that I dreamed.
When the bell rings, everyone grabs their things and gets up to return to class.
- How did he end up at the same table as you? I said
in a shrill, accusatory voice that I don’t recognize, as soon as Damen is out of earshot.
Miles throws his bottle into the recyclable trash can.
- He wanted to be in the shade, so we invited him to join
We. Not enough to whip a cat. It wasn’t a plot against you, you know.
- Know that I could have done without your moral lesson about the impoliteness of staring at people.
It’s ridiculous to be so touchy, I know.
At the same time, I don’t want to express out loud what I think, at the risk of offending my friends with this hurtful, although perfectly justified, question: what is a guy like Dam on File with us? ?
I weigh my words. Between all the students at this great high school
plugged in and everything, why did he choose us – the three losers of the lot?
Miles shrugs.
- Don’t worry, he found it funny. By the way, he’s coming to your house this evening. I told him around 8 o’clock.
I look at him, stunned. Then I remember, during lunch, Haven was wondering how she was going to dress, and Miles was calculating whether he would have time to apply self-tanner, or whatever.
- Apparently Damen hates football as much as we do. We found out during the little interrogation that Haven put him through before you arrived.
Haven smiled, bending her fishnet stocking-clad knees in a small curtsy.
- And since he’s new and doesn’t know anyone, we thought we’d get him before he gets tired of other friends.
- But…
I do not know what to say. One thing is certain, I don’t want Damen coming to my house, not tonight or ever.
I’ll arrive a little after 8 o’clock, Haven said. My meeting is
finishes at 7 a.m., I will barely have time to go home and change. By the way, I’m saving myself the spot next to Damen in the Jacuzzi. Miles shakes his head, annoyed.
No way ! I do not agree !
In response, Haven waves a hand over her shoulder and skips away.
- What is today, you know? I said to Miles. He smiled as he opened the classroom door.
- Fridays are the bulimics.
Haven is what you might call an anonymous group addict. Since I have known her, she has joined associations of alcoholics, drug addicts, codependents, chronically indebted people, inveterate gamblers, geeks, lifelong smokers, sociophobes, devastated collectors and money freaks. vulgarity. As far as I know, this is his first session with
bulimics today. From the height of 1.65 m, and with his
doll-like figure, Haven is not really bulimic. Nor is she an alcoholic, nor chronically in debt, nor an inveterate gambler, nor any of that. The problem is that she is
cluttered with monstrously selfish parents, so she seeks love and understanding wherever she can.
It’s like his gothic delirium. She’s only half convinced. This is immediately evident in his habit of jumping around instead of dragging his feet, like any self-respecting goth. In addition, her Joy Division posters clash with the candy pink walls of her room, witnesses of her ballerina period (itself preceded by a BCRC Lacoste phase). As for her goth look, it’s because she realized that the only way to get noticed in a city teeming with blondes
dressed at Juicy is to dress up as the Princess of Darkness.
Except it doesn’t work as well as she hoped. There
first time her mother saw her new style, she gave a
sigh, grabbed her keys, and off she went to her Pilates session. History pin. His father hadn’t stayed home long enough
to take a good look at it. On the other hand, his little brother was scared to death, but he quickly recovered. And then everyone at school got so used to outlandish behavior because of
filming the high school series Laguna Beach for MTV last year, which Haven went virtually unnoticed.
But I know that, under the spiked collars and the makeup
the Marilyn Manson, hides a girl who only asks to be seen, heard, loved and pampered – in which her incarnations
previous ones have frustrated her. So if speaking in front of people and inventing a story that will make people cry about her fight against the addiction of the day helps her exist, what right do I have to judge her?
In my previous life, I didn’t hang out with people like
Miles and Haven. I had nothing to do with the slightly crazy troubled teenagers, the painkillers, that is. I belonged to the trendy elite, where almost everyone was beautiful, athletic, talented,
intelligent, rich, admired, etc. I was at all the parties, I had a best friend named Rachel (cheerleader, as it turns out), and
even a friend, Brandon, the sixth boy I ever had
kissed (the first was Lucas, because of a bet in sixth grade, and believe me when I tell you that the others don’t even deserve to be talked about). I was never rude to those who didn’t
part of my group, but I barely realized they existed. They had nothing to do with me, so I ignored them as if they were invisible.
Now it’s my turn to be one of the dark ones. I got it
including the day Rachel and Brandon came to see me at the hospital. They
tried their best to be kind and encourage me, but in their thoughts, it was completely different. The little IV bags that sent liquid into my veins, my wounds, my bruises, my entirely plastered limbs disgusted them. They were sorry for what had happened to me, sorry to
because of the immense loss that was mine, but they tried not to look at the big red scar that crossed my forehead and were only waiting for one thing: to run away.
And when I saw their auras come together to form one
dirty brown swirl, I understood that they were moving away from me and towards each other.
So, when I arrived at Bay View, I didn’t try to enter
in the circle of Stacia and Honor, preferring to set my sights on
Miles and Haven, the two misfits, who accepted me without question. It must be a strange picture, the three of us, but, to be honest, I really don’t know what I would do without them. Their friendship is one of the few positive things in my new life, and thanks to them I feel almost normal.
This is why I have to keep my distance from Damen. Because
that the power he has to electrify my skin when he denies touching, to
silencing the world when it speaks is a dangerous temptation that I must resist at all costs.
I refuse to ruin my friendship with Haven.
And I can’t risk burning my wings by getting too close.
