Page 18 of The Heavier The Chains…
There was no going back after telling Edie about Kenzlee yesterday. I had made my intentions towards Kenzlee clear with my sister and that did it.
I knew I wasn’t her type. I knew I didn’t have enough class for her liking, and I knew I’d never have enough commas in my bank account to satisfy her. I knew all this, but it wasn’t going to stop me. It wasn’t going to stop me from taking her.
My biggest struggle would be juggling the hate I have for all the things she represents with the uncontrollable need to have her; to tarnish all her silver.
It was a constant battle.
The need to rip those diamond studs out of her ears was a constant battle. The need to bring her down a peg was a constant battle. And the more refined she acted, the darker my intentions became. I could see the struggle on her face between being polite and telling me to go fuck myself. That first meeting had caught her off guard, but since then, she’s been prepared and holds on to her composure like a lifeline. Kenzlee Mitchell will never be a YouTube sensation for losing her shit.
Never.
First period was a whole lot of stares and whispers, but I didn’t give a shit. People always talked about me, so this wasn’t something new. Lakeside High was no different than any other high school across the country. You had your cliques; your rich, your poor, and your troublemakers. You had your jocks, nerds, cool kids, and rebels.
I fell somewhere between the poor rebel troublemakers. I was poor, but I wasn’t. I rebelled, but I respected my elders. I was a troublemaker, but I avoided felonies, if I could.
The fighting was the biggest thing that brought me attention. Everyone overlooked my social-economic status as long as I won my fights. The girls fawned, and the guys were too scared to talk shit to me. I was hoping that trepidation would extend to Kenzlee, because I didn’t feel like fucking up dudes left and right for talking to her. Until she got on plan with the fact that she was mine, things were going to be tense around here for sure.
And, fuck, it was only second period.
Lars and Hunter were already at my locker when I walked up. We always met up at my locker on our way to second period since we all had it together.
“Dude,” Lars laughed as soon as I was within earshot. “My phone was buzzing nonstop during first with texts of you attacking your girl.”
I started turning the dial on my locker. “I did not fuckingattackher,” I clarified.
Hunter chuckled. “Dude, you practically claimed a girl in front of anyone who was looking,” he pointed out. “That’s equivalent of you attacking her. The entire fucking school is losing its mind.”
My locker open, I grabbed my book, and slammed it shut again. I glanced back and forth between my two friends. “Okay, here’s the deal,” I said. “After a lot of soul-searching last night, I decided I wanted her no matter how many diamonds drip from her ears, so…she’s mine.”
Lars laughed. “Oh, I bet that’s going to work well for her.”
“You’re such a romantic, Tal,” Hunter deadpanned. “Really. You’re quite an inspiration.”
“What’d you want me to do,” I countered. “Release doves in the air? Line the hallways with rose petals?”
They both laughed, and I shook my head at the sheer nonsense of it all. Seriously? Who cared who I dated, and why? Why was it so important who a poor kid, who had to fight his sister’s way to a future, dated?
We started walking towards second period, when Lars asked, “So, what does Kenzlee have to say about all this?”
This time, I’m the one who laughed. “I’m pretty sure she wants to tell me to go get fucked. But all that blue blood breeding is keeping her from causing a scene.”
Hunter let out a low whistle. “I’m liking her already,” he teased.
I didn’t comment as we made our way to class, but the trip was comical, to say the least. Not bragging, but Lars, Hunter, and I always got longing looks, or curious glances whenever we walked down the hallways together, but this morning, there was more to it. Guys were probably wondering what was so special about Kenzlee, and girls were wondering…well, probably the same thing. But they’d never know, or they’d never understand.
Fuck, I barely understand.
But you see it everywhere. You see the cocky jock with the nerd. You see the quiet girl with the bad boy. You see the plain girl with the richest boy in town. You see the ordinary guy with the head cheerleader. You see good-looking men with overweight wives. You see blonde bombshells with dorky husbands. You see it everywhere and wonder, what the hell is he/she doing with him/her?
Well, chemistry is real, folks. It’s real, and it doesn’t identify good looks or rock-hard bodies. It doesn’t care about superficial shit. Chemistry connects souls; dark to light, light to dark, light to light, or dark to dark. You can be in the grocery store, minding your own goddamn business, and bump into your soulmate as you check out the cereal selection. And all you can do? All you can do is pray they’re not already fucking married or in love with someone else.
Kenzlee was that for me. I was walking though the school hallway, minding my own goddamn business, and she bumped into me. She bumped into me and sealed her fate and mine.
And I wasn’t egotistical enough not to be able to admit I was fucked in the head where she was concerned. Her…grace made me positively nasty, but the pull in my gut was telling me I better find a way to deal with it.
We paused in front of second period, when Lars simply asked, “So, is she your girlfriend or what?”
And then I said the words that could probably label me a psychopath, “Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”
