Stalker - Clarissa Wild Page 0,35
the extra money it provided. Who would ever want someone like me as their kid? The rebel boy who beats everyone up if they try to talk to him. The dangerous, filthy kind.
And now Vanessa’s seen it, too. I could see it in her pessimistic eyes … it was as if she felt sorry for me.
I take out the tiny, plastic cup with filtered lid on top from inside my pocket and open the cap, setting the butterfly, which I meant to give her as a secret extra gift, free.
Why do I even try to change people’s perception of me? It’s a waste of time, so I’m done now. I won’t try to fight it anymore. Instead, I’ll just be who I’m supposed to be.
If you can’t beat them, join them.
***
Age 14
At times when Vanessa is not around, my heart feels like it’s turning to stone. I need friends, people to talk to, but everyone only listens to the rumors and then they’re scared of me before they’ve even talked to me. It’s like I don’t even get a chance. Just because I occasionally lash out at bullies. Is it so wrong to put your foot down and draw a line? I can’t help that people piss me off so much.
The only ones who will talk to me are the goths with their tats and piercings. They’re two years older than I am, but they offered me a smoke. I guess it’s their way to see if I want to belong to their group or not, and if I could fit in.
Soon, I’m spending most of my free time in their group, as Vanessa is growing more and more distant. I wonder if it’s because of the pressure her parents put on her. I don’t understand why she cares so much, but whatever. I guess achieving something is worth more than doing what you enjoy.
I’m standing at a corner around the building with the group, and they’re passing along a joint, so naturally I take it, too. I want to know what it’s like, and there’s no harm in trying it out. It’s not like I’ll get addicted after one whiff.
As I take a breath, I cough immediately, and the guys all laugh. I quickly hand the joint to one of my friends, whose piercings make him look tough. The way he takes a drag, standing tall like nothing affects him, makes me admire him. Maybe I should think about getting some piercings and tattoos, too. I’m already deemed a dangerous guy without them, so might as well fit in with the crowd.
When the second round of smoking comes, a few people walk by the gate, and I try to hide the joint in my jacket. Too late, though. Vanessa is walking by, and her jaw just dropped.
She stampedes toward me and then stops right in front of me as I stare her down. “What are you doing?” she asks.
The guys begin to laugh, so I grab her by the arms and push her forward so I can talk privately. “Not now, okay?”
“Yes, now. Is that … a joint?”
“Yes, it is,” I say, tucking it further into my pocket until only the bud is visible, so it won’t burn a hole in my clothes. “But it’s none of your business.”
She frowns and makes a face. “Since when? Why do you do this?”
“Because I like it,” I say, shrugging. “Nothing wrong with that.”
She swipes my hand off her shoulder as if she thinks I’m dirty. “It’s wrong, Miles, and you know that. Since when did you become one of them?”
“I’m not. I’m just doing what I want.”
“Well, it’s not good for you,” she says, placing her hands on her side, as if she’s all that.
“I don’t need lecturing from you,” I hiss, leaning forward. “And in case you didn’t notice, they aren’t the nicest people, so I suggest you don’t go yelling across the yard what it is that we're doing here.”
“Or what?” Her eyes narrow. “Are you threatening me now?”
“No, I’m simply trying to warn you,” I say, looking into both her eyes. “They’re dangerous.”
“That’s what they said about you, too, and yet I know better.” She swallows. “And so do you.”
I sigh, feeling worse than I already did just from the disappointed look on her face. I hate feeling this way … like I’m useless, like I’m doing everything wrong. “Maybe I don’t want to know better.”
She shakes her head, mumbling, “Never mind.”
And then she turns around and strides