Lethal Friends

Do you ever imagine yourself with a white face, crazy hair, maybe dyed scarlet (maybe with blood, maybe with yours, maybe with theirs), little triangles painted around your eyes, a cute little round nose turned red, and being seen as a complete joke? No? Well neither did I, but here I was caught acting like a clown all the same. Caught in a war I didn't even understand how had been started. I think maybe, I had possibly started a blood feud too, what with the history of my family and all. And oh yes, I was quite sure some blood would be spilled. He looked murderous. "...this" Logan, right up in my personal space, was saying, "this means war." It felt like the whole high school was staring at me. Well then. Who knew how dangerous hot new neighbours could be? —————————— 24 hours earlier The stinking, sweating airplane had been a hot mess when I had finally left it. Or maybe that was me. I stretched and winced at the crumpled look I saw in the airport bathroom mirror noticing I needed a shower. Okay definitely me. I tried to smooth out the lines, hands nervously, desperately trying to press out the folds, but it was hopeless. I was meeting my family today. Well, my extended family. I was moving in with my aunt and uncle after a hard year at home. This was my chance to start over, my chance to truly live out a sweet 16 until I could become 17 the dancing queen. But I hadn't seen them in over eight years. The three boys, my cousins, we used to be friends, but who knew now. I pulled helplessly at my greasy locks. I should've taken a shower before, but hell I hadn't even remembered to pack enough socks, I hadn't been thinking about my hair. So, with a courage I didn't really feel I firmly wrapped my hand around the suitcase's handle and walked out into the parking lot. There were the Brightens. My family. Damn eyeballs, I would not cry , I would not be a sobbing mess as my first impression for my family. I plastered on a smile as they spotted me "London, is that you dear?" my aunt asked. She had dark brown hair, the top slightly grey, and had a weathered yet kind look about her, the glasses adding to the effect. "Yes, it's me!" I answered and we hugged excitedly. "Are you ready?" a goofy smiling Jordan, my age, my old childhood friend, was shoving his face in front of mine, "I hope you're strong enough for wrestling." He rubbed my hair like a pet, and I smacked his wrist. Guess nothing had really changed, he still felt like the i***t I had to contain, thank the celestials. "Ah, come on," Adam was saying rubbing back straight black hair from his square face, "You know she'll kick your a*s after her swimming years. Don't shoot yourself ahead of time." My face was nearly cracking with how wide my smile was. It was like I had never been away, and that was nearly the best feeling in the world. I had a place here, I would fit in here like a puzzle piece. ________ We easily reached the Brightens- well my, I guess I should call it mine now- home within half an hour. I enjoyed the whole ride over. I was still jumpy from nerves like a knotted ball of yarn that couldn't be untangled, but surprisingly it was the boys bickering in the back that really put me at ease. I quickly realized that living in an ocean side town in California would have its benefits. Not only gorgeous coastlines and to many tan boys for me to count but the big city wasn't that far away. This wasn't looking too bad after-all. Of course, though, of course that couldn't last. When we pulled up to the most "American dream" home suburbia paradise I'd ever seen he caught my eye. I took my time to look around first, taking it all in, the sun, the birds chirping, the manicured gardens, and then... the hot boy lazily, languidly, lounged across his front porch swing. He was a full-on delicious brownie kind of boy, smoking a joint, smoke puffing above his head as he laid across the burgundy pillows. His foot dragged lightly across the porch, pushing him back and forth on the swing. One hand propped under his head as a pillow while the other grabbed the joint. He caught my eye, smirked, green eyes twinkling with mischief, "If you like what you see, just take a picture, sweetheart. And then you can send some of your own back over to me." Thank all good green things on this earth my aunt and uncle had already gone in so they didn't hear that. Unfortunately, though my cousin, Adam, did. He stiffened at the sound of the voice mid way through pulling out my suitcases from the trunk. He paused for half a second before yanking out the bags far more aggressively than he needed to. He refused to turn to the neighbour. "Do me a favour, cuz" Adam said trying not to curl his lip, " stay away from that asshole. He's more trouble than he's worth." "Don't worry," I said loud enough for the curly black-haired boy to hear me "Smelling like joints and last night's alcohol, I know a human hangover when I see one. I certainly don't need to be associated to any more people who will make me nauseous." And that was that. But, oh, if only I had know. That had certainly not just been that. Because I hadn't bothered to ask a very important question I didn't give too much thought to until I found it out later that night. Where was my room? Well, right across the way, the way from his room, our windows facing each other. How's that for a battleground?