Tara Kelly
You meet her your freshman year. You’re the awkward new kid who dresses like a goth one day and like your mother the next. She’s the “school slut,” the kind of girl every other girl warns you about. But she’ll be the first person to reach out to you…the only person.
She’s not the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, but everyone notices her. It’s not her clothes. She dresses like a lot of girls, vintage jeans and baby tees with a logo or a slogan across the chest. It’s not her sunshine hair or her scarlet lipstick. It’s not even her voice, rough and sweet at the same time. It’s the unconscious things, the little things. The way her lips are always turned up. The sway of her hips. The look in her eyes—she’s seen enough life for someone twice her age.
The two of you always sneak off campus at lunch. Sometimes you go to the park. Sometimes her apartment. She talks about guys between drags of Marb Reds (the only brand to smoke, in her opinion). She’s always dating some older guy…sometimes a lot older. You think it’s pretty creepy, but you don’t tell her so. She’s not the first girl you’ve known who’s dated older guys. And you don’t want her to know how inexperienced you are. You don’t want her to know a lot of things.
You wonder why she hangs out with you, why she doesn’t see you for the dork you think you are. A big night for you is hanging out at the park with your best friend and his skater buddies, trying to get brain freeze from Slurpees. But your first night with her is something you’ll never forget. Nothing major happens, but it’s your first taste of her world—a world that will soon become yours.
She sends some guys to your house to pick you up while she gets ready. She only just met these guys the day before. They show up in this old muscle car. You won’t remember the make or model…just that it was green and loud. She’s dating the driver, who looks and dresses a lot like Spike in Buffy The Vampire Slayer (you’ll see what I mean in a couple years). He likes his car and his metal at breakneck speeds. You think he’s a lot older—old enough to buy booze. Or maybe he just knows where to buy it. His friends are closer to your age, sixteen maybe.
You don’t talk to them. They don’t talk to you. The guy in the flannel keeps looking at you, though. Like he wants to say something. He’s quieter than the others, a little less sure of himself. At some point he says, “It’s okay, you know. We’re not axe-murderers.” You won’t remember what anyone says for the rest of that night, but you’ll always remember that. Don’t ask me why.
You wonder how she does it. Never questions things. Never obsesses over what people think. She’ll try anything once. You’ll wish you could be like her. And sadly, you’ll try to be.
Here’s the thing: You’re a freak. Always were. Always will be. You’re a creative spirit who wants to bend the rules. But you’re also practical and analytical. One day you’ll love this about yourself. But right now you hate it. You just want to be free…like her.
But she’s hiding as much as you are. One day she’s going to show you who she really is…and it’s going to terrify you.
I’m not going to tell you what happens, though. It’s an experience you need to have. It’s going to change the way you look at friendship for years to come.
Tara Kelly is a Jill of all trades—a YA author, one-girl band, and Web/graphic designer. She’s written two YA books, Harmonic Feedback (2010) and Amplified (2011). Visit her at TheTaraTracks.com.