The Darkness Within

by Taylor K. Scott

  After binging on cartoons, I walk across the back garden, which is now glowing under a low setting sun, to see my best friend, Matt. I claimed him as such just after we moved here when I knew nobody, and also had a lot more confidence than I do now. Damn the teenager years which rob people of their senses while simultaneously giving you a hyper-awareness of everything that’s wrong with you and everything right with all of your peers. Put that together with magazines, which flaunt pictures of women who don’t even look like that in real life, in addition to internet trolls and other, insecure, teenagers who need to tear you down, and you’re lucky if you can still force yourself up in the morning.

  Anyway, I digress. I was seven when Dad got his new job at the hospital and we were all forced to relocate across the country. The boy next door was playing with his Lego in the backyard and seemed just as nerdy and proud of it as I once was. We discovered we were both mad about Harry Potter and pretty much anything else fantasy, especially if it involved dragons and magic. We would play on his Xbox, build dens in our backyards, and act out plot lines from our favorite books and films. Of course, he’s too cool for all that now, but he’s still my best friend.

  The only snag is, Matt grew up to be a rather beautiful human being, both on the inside and the outside, and the trouble with beautiful people like him is that they attract other beautiful human beings. Now, not all beautiful human beings are necessarily nice on the inside, some can just get away with looking good, like Bowie, for example. Bowie and Matt started getting friendly over football last year and have been thick as thieves ever since. Between them, they attract all the gorgeous, popular girls, who see me as nothing more than a piece of stale, old gum, which Matt still has attached to his shoe.

  In the end, we came to an agreement (which is code for I forced him) to leave each other alone at school but be friends back at home. It works, to a certain extent, and besides, at school, I have my one-gal pal, Mercy. She’s a little out there but is considered cool for being uncool if you catch my drift. She’s already begun dating older boys and doesn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks or says. I think this was the main basis of my appeal to her. I have never been considered anything other than nerdy, so she defied social convention and befriended me with a firm up-yours to anyone who tried to say anything about it.

  When I push through the dodgy, broken paneling, towards the end of our fence, I see Matt straight away with his arm hanging over the shoulder of some chick from school. Her name is Lucy and has always seemed nice enough, so I brave it and continue on my way over. I wouldn’t say I’m shy as such, but I try not to engage with people who are going to give me a hard time if I can help it. Teenagers seem to digress into their most primitive forms, much like toddlers, and have little self-regulation if they want to call you something disparaging, or in some cases, pull down your skirt in the middle of a busy lunch hall. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen, it’s why I purposefully wear a belt at all times.

  My cool, confident saunter is soon halted with a terrifying stop when I’m within earshot of the dulcet tones of Bowie. The Sophomore God is currently making his way over from the direction of Matt’s back door, complete with a possessive arm wrapped around his latest girl toy, Melody Carpenter. She may be pretty on the outside, looking like she’s the sweet and innocent girl from next door, but this girl from next door knows from personal experience, she’s about as nice as a rabid dog with a bone.

  As Bowie hauls her in closer towards his body, and in such a way that makes her look like the latest accessory rather than anyone worth caring about, I think of all the times she’s made me cry after using her wicked tongue to humiliate me in front of large groups of other beautiful people. She once announced I was on my period, then proceeded to tell all who would listen (everyone) that I smelled like a rotting fish down below. This rather humiliating scene resulted in yours truly bolting for it to behind the bike shed, where I repeatedly kicked the metal casing until my foot bruised and I looked like I had an eye infection from crying so hard.

  Yeah, forget that shit, I’m outta here!

  Alas, my attempt to about turn before anyone sees me doesn’t go unnoticed, and before I can get anywhere near my escape hatch, I hear Matt shouting my name loud enough so I can’t even feign poor hearing and ignore it.

  “Where are you going?” he laughs, now running towards me and pulling me into his side like a playful puppy who has no concept of what it’s like to be bullied. “You know Millie, don’t you?” he calls out to the cool kids as they mull me over with about as much enthusiasm as seeing a floating turd in a public lavatory. Oh Matt, poor naïve Matt, can’t you tell these people don’t like me?

  “I didn’t realize you were…entertaining. I’ll come back tomorrow,” I say sweetly to him, trying to surreptitiously twist away in his arm but failing miserably.

  “Who the hell talks like that?!” Bowie pipes up, making the girls laugh and looking ready to hang off his every word like he’s the new Messiah.

  “Shut up, dickhead!” Matt grins at him while pulling me over to join in with their cozy little foursome. I don’t have the heart to tell him I’d rather go and hang out with Satan and a small collection of evil villains from a set of Stephen King novels, including Pennywise, the horrifying clown who likes to hang about in drains. I’m sure it would be far less painful and humiliating for me. Unfortunately, my reluctance is not proving obvious enough to Matt, either that or he’s simply choosing to ignore it.

  “Matt, I think I hear Grant calling me, I’ll swing by another time,” I turn to face him with a wide grin, which is so fake it hurts. “You know, third or fifth wheel?” I whisper shout through clenched teeth to try and make it more obvious to him.

  “Hey, I want to hang out with you,” he mutters sadly, and I love him for it, but this is super awkward. “Come sit with us. I won’t let them be mean to you.”

  “Well, when you sell it like that, how can I say no?!” I mutter sarcastically, but he still chooses to ignore the hint.

  I’m then ceremoniously sat down next to the girl who no doubt thought she was here to entertain Matt and is now probably feeling like I’ve come and crapped all over her parade. So comfortable! We smile tightly at one another as the deafening silence becomes overwhelming, so much so, I end up coughing to clear my throat before forcing myself to say something. In my head, I thought it best to talk to one of the boys; they’re usually more accepting of girls and seeing as I’ve most likely upset Lucy with Matt’s attention already, I stupidly choose Bowie to begin jabbering away to.

  “So, your sister is at our house,” I say as politely as one can when the recipient of her conversation is currently feeling up their archnemesis, “she’s nice. I really like Sam.”

  “Oh, well now I can go to bed all fuzzy inside because the school misfit likes my sister!” Bowie smirks sarcastically, making me feel about three inches tall and shriveled up like an old prune.

  “Bowie!” Matt snaps with a clear warning in his voice, all the while Lucy and Melody are giggling over my crimson red cheeks. I swear Bowie is puffing out his chest like a caveman, probably getting ready to beat the girls over the head and drag them back to his man cave.

  “I’m kidding, she knows that. Right, Molly?” The smug bastard knows my name and is clearly being a dick on purpose.

  “You know, just because you say, ‘I’m kidding’ afterward, doesn’t make you any less of an asshole,” I smile sweetly, “just makes you unoriginal.”

  Matt bursts out laughing and slaps my hand up top, reminding me of all the years we’ve been best friends, and I find myself giggling along with him. It feels so much better than being the one being laughed at. Of course, this was bound to cause some comeback for me, for daring to speak out against the great Bowie, who is now jumping off the step he was just perched on. His slow saunter up to us, together with a taunting smirk on his face, tells me this arrogant performance can only mean trouble for yours truly.

  Once he’s close enough to
blow his warm breath across my face, he places his hand on my naked thigh, the feeling of which causes me to shudder. He takes in this involuntary reaction and smiles wickedly.

  “You know being a bitch doesn’t make you any less frigid either,” he says straight into my ear. “You know Matt’s sweet on you, why don’t you prove you’re cool enough to hang with us by giving him…” he clicks his tongue as he looks me up and down as though assessing what I have to offer, then suggestively wiggles his eyebrows, “a little tongue action?”

  My eyes must open unnaturally wide with horror over his words because when I look over to my best friend in the whole world, I notice him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, desperately trying to look calm and collected. It’s more than obvious that neither of us are, not after Bowie’s stupid suggestion.

  “Shut up, Bowie, and leave her alone!” Matt mutters. “She’s too good for the likes of us anyway.”

  “Hardly,” Bowie sneers for my eyes only, casting his gaze over me like I wiped out an entire species of rare animal, single-handed and with a smile on my face. “Go on, tease, give Matt what he’s been dying for since you wiggled around in those tight little shorts this summer.”

  “I think I should go,” I whisper uncomfortably to Matt, who continues to glare at Bowie for causing an unnecessary atmosphere between the two of us. His ice-cold stare is futile, however, because Bowie’s smug expression is remaining fixed on me. “You guys are busy,” I mumble towards the ground with some sort of inexplicable shame.

  I waste no time in getting up to leave while Matt’s attention is still being held by his other best friend, but as soon as I turn, Bowie grabs hold of my arm and pulls me over so that I am stood directly in front of Matt. I gasp at the sudden skin contact and the fact that he’s already six-foot and built like a football star. I literally have zero chance of fighting him off. The bastard knows it too when he grips me in front of the boy I used to play Dungeons and Dragons with. The same boy who is now looking very much like a man.

  As I look into his eyes, Matt flusters around uncomfortably, even though he’s still glaring at Bowie, who is stood behind me. Seconds later, he finally looks down into my eyes, with me feeling like a midget compared to Bowie standing at my back. When he does, even I can see his eyes are dark, hooded, and fighting the urge to grab me. I’ve never noticed it before; it didn’t even enter my head that Matt might find me attractive in any kind of way other than as a friend.

  Matt is taller than I am, and his body is starting to fill out into a more manly frame. He no longer has the small, skinny figure he once had as a boy. His dirty blonde hair sticks up in all different directions and his friendly, soft features are no doubt very attractive to the girls at school. But for me? I’ve never contemplated him like that, so this is a strange and uncomfortable sensation, one which I can’t say I’m enjoying at all.

  My eyes look away from the unusual darkness in his eyes, only to see the way he’s balled his hands into fists, all the while he looks down at me. I feel like his prey, not like his friend anymore, and I bite my lip awkwardly, an action that almost sends him into a frenzy. He suddenly grabs hold of my shoulders as he steps forward, prompting me to look back up at him.

  I have to admit, I feel scared. Scared of my feelings, scared of his feelings, scared for our friendship. Bowie clicks his tongue close to my ear, his breathing telling me he’s more than enjoying this weird little situation between best friends. He is, after all, Matt’s personal, little devil sat on his shoulder, waiting for him to give in to temptation with a wide grin on his face. Peer pressure infiltrates my senses and instead of pushing back and running for it, which is exactly what I want to do right now, I shift my chin upward and take in a deep breath for what is about to come. I am moments away from my knees buckling underneath me when Matt inches in even closer, with his hot breath sweeping over my face, causing my own to hitch up several notches, up to the point of panic.

  Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t!

  “Go home, Millie!” he finally says, and so quietly I’m not entirely convinced he said anything at all. “Go on, get outta here. I’ll catch you later.”

  It’s only when I hear Bowie’s hysterical, taunting laughter, that I shift away, looking around into the eyes of the cool kids, who will no doubt jibe the both of us about this. Bowie is laughing so much his hands fall to his knees, all the while pointing at Matt as if teasing him over his pathetic friend’s reaction to a kiss. Melody, and even Lucy, laugh with him, but I choose not to hang around to hear how long for. Instead, I bolt it out of there as fast as my legs will carry me and I don’t stop until I reach the safety of my own back yard.

  “You’re a fucking asshole!” Matt growls in an irritated tone of voice towards his bully of a friend.

  “Hey?” Grant calls out with concern etched all over his face when I dart inside the house, still letting angry tears stream over my hot, clammy cheeks. The softness in his eyes and the feeling of safety in his presence have me running straight into the comforting arms of my big brother, the guy who has looked after me since Mom returned to work full-time. The guy who has cooked me my weekday dinners since I was twelve and the guy who told me he would kick any boy’s butt if they so much as looked at me the wrong way.

  “I hate him! I fucking hate him!” I slam my clenched fist onto his iron-hard chest, thrashing my angry tears away with aggressive slaps to my face.

  “Who? Matt?” he asks, pushing back from me so he can look at me properly, with his eyes full of worry. “What did he do?! You guys are best friends! Did he try something, Millie? Because I swear to God…”

  “No,” I shake my head rapidly, getting annoyed with him for jumping to the wrong conclusion, like he should somehow know what’s upset me without me having to elaborate. “Fucking Bowie Phillips! Stupid prick with his stupid pretentious name!”

  “What’s my brother done now?” Sam sighs as she emerges from Grant’s bedroom, pulling her sweater back over her head. “Whatever it is, ignore him. He’s a giant asshole. Trust me, I live with him!”

  “Nothing! Ignore me, it’s nothing!” I reply bitterly and shuck out of Grant’s grip before stomping over to the sofa where I clutch hold of a pillow, picturing it as Bowie’s stupid, taunting face.

  “Hey, Grant, Baby, do you mind getting lost for a bit so I can talk to your sister? You know, about girl stuff?” Sam says in a sensitive tone of voice, more for my benefit than his.

  “Do I have a choice?!” he grunts, pouting because I have his girlfriend’s attention on loan for two whole minutes.

  “No, Baby,” she says in a sweet voice which is laced in fakery. What she means is, ‘Stop being a douche and let me comfort your distraught sister, you giant toddler!’

  We trace his sulky footsteps with our eyes until we hear his door close ungraciously behind him. I then glance over to see her tip-toeing over the wooden floorboards to sit next to me on the sofa, where I am still giving the pillow hell for a crime it didn’t commit.

  “Talk to me Mils,” she says matter of factly, soft but with a no-nonsense attitude about it, and starts to twirl her finger affectionately through a loose strand of my hair. I sit rigidly while anger continues to seethe through every vein in my body.

  “Why are you so nice and he’s so…so…shitty?!” I spit the words out like they physically hurt my mouth to utter them.

  “Because Bowie hasn’t grown up yet,” she shrugs as she answers my question bluntly. “He’s found a new best friend, called his dick by the way, and said best friend makes him feel overly sure of himself, making him both arrogant and cocky. Pun intended!” she says with a wink and cheeky smirk. “All guys go through this toxic relationship with their genitals when they are first acquainted. Usually, it dies down, but from what I’ve heard, it never completely goes away.”

  Her rather plausible explanation forces me to laugh, even though I’m not entirely sure I want to, yet. When she giggles with me, it releases some of the tension in my muscle
s and I finally relinquish some of my death grip on the pillow. I watch it expand back into its original shape, looking like it’s desperately sucking in air after I just strangled it. Soon I just pick at the tassels and stare sadly into space, simultaneously swiping at the one traitorous tear that’s slipped away. My rather ungracious sniffing back of painful sobs has her stroking my hair with a pitiful smile again.

  “So, talk to me, Millie. You are such a gorgeous girl, you shouldn’t be upset over some guy, especially Bowie of all people.”

  I look at Sam’s gentle eyes and see how truly beautiful she is, both on the outside and the in. I awkwardly feel proud of my brother for choosing such a wonderful girl to fall in love with, because he clearly is. Even I of all people, who finds the whole thing vomit worthy, can still appreciate how much they care about one another.

  “He said I was a tease, that I should give Matt what he’s been dying for since I paraded around in my shorts all summer,” I sniff again, still completely shocked over the insinuation that my wardrobe choices over a particularly hot June, was influenced by a guy I’d quite happily wear a potato sack with. “He said that I should kiss him,” I can’t help wincing, like it’s a dirty word, “in front of both Matt and two of the most popular girls at school.”