22. Lars Won't Commit

I slam the door behind me, jingling the panes in the window.

It isn't enough. I want scissors and seam rippers and to be alone.

"Laura?" Dad calls from his study.

"Nope. Just some other failure of a middle child." I kick off my boots before he can get up from his work chair. I'm down the stairs to the basement before he before he sees me.

I am subterranean. I want to live out the rest of my life in a cave where no one will dare visit except on dares. I will be nothing but a beast of legend, lurking red and furious, where no men roam.

I glance at my phone only to turn on music and sync to speakers, ignoring the unread messages from Casey, from Wren, from Roman. None from Sam.

Angry indie rock floods the basement, reverberating off the concrete until the whole house must shake. It has to be loud enough to drown out the day. I have to feel the bass more than I feel anything else swelling in my chest and in my eyes.

I tear through my racks of thrift store finds for something just waiting to be torn to shreds.

The subject becomes a worn denim jacket, threadbare at the elbows in a boring indigo wash.

I got at it with seam rippers, slicing through the stitching holding the sleeves to the jacket.

My hands shake. Maybe I shook all day, containing the emotions I wouldn't dare show at school.

At school, Lars Williams is untouchable, an ice queen incapable of feeling except maybe outrage.

In the basement, Lars Williams angrily blinks back hot tears.

I push the heel of my hand into my eye, careful not to gouge myself on the seam ripper. Even alone, it feels too weak and vulnerable. It's stupid to cry over boys. It's even worse to cry over a boy I wasn't even dating.

But over a friend...?

A knock pounds on the basement door overtop the music.

"I'm in the middle of something!" I shout in a voice threatening to crack. It's in my throat, betraying me.

The door opens anyway. I'm a long way from being a fearsome hermit. Not even loud music or shouting turns people away.

I brush my hand under my eyes one last time, turning away from the stairs to focus intently on the pile of white thread I'm amassing from my jacket seam.

"I'm fine," I insist, turning down the volume with my phone before I can be accused of having an attitude or some other parental observation of a terrible mood.

"Really?"

I twist, not ready for the soft voice that is decidedly not my father coming down to check on me.

Wren lingers at the foot the stairs. "I texted."

I glance down at my phone at the little speech bubbles trying to let me know. I grind my teeth like it'll make up for my blotchy face, make me look less pathetic and more enraged.

"Has anyone ever told you your flirting's a bit aggressive?" I say, making a show of going back to my work.

"Has anyone told you?" Wren lingers no longer, pulling up a stool at my sewing table. It's the kind of answer that broaches the subject, but I sure want to broach it as well.

"I just know what I want." I shrug, refusing to sink to avoiding the subject.

"You do, do you?" Wren bats her eyelashes, perfect paired mascara'd fans. She leans in and my heart does the kind of fluttering that insists that no, in fact, I don't know what I want. Maybe what I was is for Wren to leave me to do my damage on denim. Maybe it's that I want to be distracted.

"I heard what happened," she offers, though I highly doubt she really understands. What Wren heard is what everyone else heard, too: a whirlwind of conjecture I can hardly waste a second thought correcting.

Did you hear? Sam-and-Lars hooked up and he dumped her. Did you hear? Lars slapped Sam across the face. They're done. Did you hear Sam-and-Lars fighting in the hall? Did you hear? Lars is still hung up on Roman. Did you hear? Sam's going to sleep with Cassidy.

There is never enough to talk about in a small town. Not enough happens to sate the appetite of a gossip at Murphy Comp.

"Uh huh." I shove my seam ripper between layers of denim, tearing through rows of thread. Amazing how something so thin and fragile holds together whole garments. That's all Sam and I ever were. We didn't have one singular thing in common keeping us together, just a string of little oddities, little incidents holding together the quilt of one big Sam-and-Lars. I never had any doubt that the thread was enough.

The tiny blade of metal cleanly cuts like there's nothing at all holding sleeve to body.

"I guess that makes you single."

I look up and Wren is too close, smiling wickedly. Blindly, I set my work on the table like there's nothing I can do to stop what's coming.

Her mouth crashes against mine, hot and spiteful, like kissing me is fuck you to the whole damn world. Or I'm projecting and it's all me, al angry and rattled and kissing Wren is indeed the most rebellious thing I can possibly do in this particular moment.

I want something, something I can't even name, and what I get is lipstick on my teeth. It's passionate and wrong and vengeful and hot. My fingers claw into the blue flame of her hair, raking through it.

It feels vampiric, like trying to take something from Wren for myself. Part of me wants to bleed her dry and I settle for tongue and teeth.

I pull back panting. Wren's smeared lips spread into a dangerous smile, her teeth so white against the red of her mouth.

I thought it would make me feel better than it does.

"Did you live in Vancouver your whole life?" I ask. Wren face twists in the sort of way appropriate to that kind of question after that kind of contact. Her forehead creases.

"No. My dad changes jobs fairly often," Wren answers. Her fingers twist through her hair, untangling the mess I made of it. I like it better mussed. It gives real life to her, not just a mimicry of a trend she saw on someone else.

She couldn't possibly understand the black hole steadily growing inside me. It takes a kind of knowing someone your entire life to understand it. It takes years of being around the same people day after day, whether friends or not friends. There are things a nomad can't fathom.

"What do you say we give this town something new to gossip about?" Wren asks, attempting to fix her lipstick by dragging her thumbnail around the border of her lower lip.

The black hole shudders, sucking in more of me, crushing it within the absence of light.

I don't care what Murphy says about me. My dreams have been too big for a little prairie town as long as I've had dreams. It isn't about declaring myself a confused, atypical teenager. It's not specifically about who I decide to make out with.

Except, it is. It's not what Wren looks like, blue-haired and West Coast vibed. It's not about the scandal of it, of her.

It's something else.

I'm unarmed around her. Too exposed. It doesn't feel empowering. It raises goosebumps on my skin.

In public, Lars Williams is untouchable.

And if I let Wren touch me out in the wide open...

"I think I need to let this die down..." I say, leaning back against the sewing table, "I don't need to look like I'm rebounding."

Sam will love that. The rumor will become did you hear? Lars left Sam for a girl. Ha! Raw irony.

"Come on, who cares what anyone says?" Wren presses, reaching out to twist her fingers through my hair.

"You should care about what I say." I grind my teeth. "And I said not now."

I need time to get over my fake boyfriend. Not for appearances, but to settle the sting in the back of my throat, threatening an unforgivable show of emotion.

I take a deep breath, trying to quit the shaking rattling my bones.

"Just... not officially," I add, less harsh.

Wren's denim blue eyes scan over me, maybe trying decide if I'm really worth the work. But did she really single me out to be easy prey?

"Because of Roman?" she asks, flicking hair out of her eyes with such posed nonchalance, it practically broadcast how much the idea of it bothers her.

"Because of me." I almost snap at her, but the truth is, I'm too tired to do any more fighting.

Wren nods. She leans in again, this time for something more delicate than fiery.

"Okay."

a/n so! I'm planning on working on Team Spirit for Camp Nanowrimo this July, so that will hopefully translate to a lot more updates. This is really getting into the thick of it and I'm super excited for what's to come <3