Curls

It was a bright and crisp day outside when she woke up at half past twelve, intertwined in her bed covers, unsuccessfully trying to hold onto the last moments of her dream. Although she knew she was awake, she lay quietly in her soft bed with her eyes closed, the image of the boy still branded into her mind as clearly as if she was still dreaming. She knew it was good, because he was in it, but now the dream was over and the details were steadily slithering away from her like water descending down a drain. The lurking feeling of missing someone crept up her throat as the image of him burned her eyes. Her heart felt heavy, so she turned on her side, and pulled the hair tie out of her thick, curly, hair. She pulled the thin sheets closer to her body, to keep herself from falling apart, because her heart felt heavy and the feeling of missing someone crept up her throat and she didn't want to open her eyes. She wished there was school that day, so her alarm clock would make her jump, so her mom would force her out of bed, so she could get on with her day and forget about her dream, about him. But there was no mom to pull her out of bed, or an alarm clock to open her eyes, so she delved deeper into her covers, into the center of the bed where it was warm. She curled up in a ball like a cat and made sure every part of her was completely covered. She felt safe, and finally the image of him wasn't so intense and her heart felt normal. A couple minutes passed as she lay, curled, motionless under the faded and gray comforter. After a while, she stirred. She knew she couldn't hide any longer, because her back was arched and she couldn't breathe. She threw off the heavy covers, opened her round eyes, and inhaled the cold air of her small room. She felt the icy air fill her clothes and her covers, and with great self-control, she resisted the urge to curl up into her covers again. She glanced at her clock, which now read one-thirty. Jesus Christ. She had let him back into her dreams again, let him make her heart weigh heavier, and let him make her mope in bed for an hour. Her anger and frustration was enough to finally get her out of bed, but instead of taking a shower, she went to her computer.

She turned the computer on, and a little white dot appeared on the screen as it always did. The small dot started to move in circles, following the same faint path, casting a gray shadow of itself as it revolved around the circumference of its trail. She slumped back into her chair as she waited for the computer to fully load as she twirled her used-to-be-blonde hair around her finger. Her eyes followed the white dot in its cycle, repeating itself over and over, until she felt her stomach shift and couldn't watch it any longer. She briskly stood up, and walked slowly to her cabinet. Oh my god I feel like shit. Her body felt light and empty, as if all the water in her organs had been sucked away, evaporated into thin air. She poured herself a glass of water, and took a sip as she touched her lips to the curved edge of the glass cup. The girl returned to her computer, free of revolving white dots, as she immediately connected to the Internet. With a couple clicks of the mouse, she reached the search bar, and she typed his name into the white empty slot, "Geoffrey Spineletter." He lived in a small town about four hundred miles away from where the girl lived. She met him at an art camp she had attended over the summer, but that was almost five months ago.

Although she felt weak and defeated, she could not help but smile and chuckle at his picture. He was wearing a bright blue Wonder Woman costume at a Halloween party. You would wear a Wonder Woman costume. She scrolled through each picture, as her emotions fluctuated with each image her brain processed. Some pictures made her laugh. Others, mostly pictures with other girls with him, made her grimace. She controlled the mouse, as she allowed herself to peer into the pictures, each bringing forth another layer of desire, an urge to see him once again, and a pain in her side because she knew she wouldn't.

She sat there like that, completely immersed within the images the Internet revealed to her, until the vibrations of her phone made her jump. The screen of her phone read CAITLIN as she picked up her phone, "What's up?"

"Dude, Amira, what happened last night? That party was so ridiculous"

"Yeah..." Amira breathed heavily into the phone.

"Where did you go? We were looking for you for hella long."

She paused. Wait...what the fuck happened last night?

"I don't even know...after the cops rolled... I think we went to Montgomery and Jacob stole a fifth from Andronicos.... And then..."

A deep pain in her temple cut her off, mid-sentence. She tried to think but she couldn't remember the rest of her night. The pain was intense, and she was tired. This was how she started every Saturday morning-hung-over, ignorant, and exhausted.

"Jacob stole a fifth?"

"Yeah, as usual." At least she knew that much had happened.

"Wow, what a retard. How did you get home last night?"

"Uhhhhhh..." Oh God. Amira had no answer, but she wanted one. She didn't even want to think about it.

"Hahahahahaa really Amira? You came to my house. And then I drove your drunk ass home."

"No you didn't."

"Yeah I did."

"Nope."

"I totally did! Are you serious?"

"Dude, we drank together at the party. I'm not a retard."

"So? I still drove you home."

Amira sighed. Oh yeah, Caitlin always drives while she's drunk.

"Caitlin, stop drinking and driving me. Its not tight." Amira was irritated, mostly at herself.

"Its whatever, what are you doing right now?"

"Nothin."

"Are you trying to go to Kenan's tonight?"

Amira felt sick. "I don't know, dude..."

"What, why?"

"I feel like so much shit." She really meant it.

"Amira, are you serious? I drank the same amount that you did last night. It's Kenan's party; you can't just not go. Everyone and their mom is going."

"Yeah...it's whatever "

"Just think about it, it's Kenan's party. James will obviously be there."

Amira paused. James. Her heart leapt a little at the thought, but her headache was so overwhelming she barely noticed it.

"Maybe."

"Okay, whatever." Caitlin was not satisfied.

"I'll call you later"

Amira hung up. She moved slowly as she ate some food, took a shower, and got dressed. The alcohol was still in her system, and she felt as if her body was going to reject it at any given moment. She sat on her couch and closed her eyes to take a nap.

Outside, it was slowly getting dark, and Amira woke up in time to see the red blazing sun disappearing behind the black horizon. The clouds surrounding the sunset turned purple and orange, and the reflection of the sunset shimmered on the surface of the Bay. She watched the red and round sun disappear little by little behind the black cover of the mountains. The outline of the Golden Gate Bridge reminded Amira of a stencil her mother used to have, back when they used to make art together. Although the sun was gone, she had a sudden urge to paint a picture of the scenery, but it would take too long, and she hadn't painted anything in ages. No, she would take a picture of it and use it to paint later. That's what she would do.

Amira picked up her cell phone to take a picture, but instead, it told her she had a message in her inbox. The message read, "Hey, are you going to Kenan's tonight? -James". Oh my god. Oh my god. It's James. yesssss! In reading the text message, a load of serotonin flooded her brain, and everything else was simply forgotten. All she needed to concentrate on was the party, nothing else. She had a goal, which was to conquer James, and so the preparation for her night and the actual party had a purpose. She had a plan. She called Caitlin for a ride as she carefully handpicked her outfit; straight-leg jeans, a pair of slick black flats, and a white and blue striped tank top. Amira straightened her hair, piece by piece, as the little strands of hair reluctantly gave in to the hot metal iron. After she plucked out a few lonely hairs from the mid section her eyebrows, she applied the exact amount of eyeliner and mascara on each eye, creating a symmetrical balance between the two halves of her face. She filed and polished her nails, three coats of white on every finger of each hand. She had achieved perfection, and her path was right in front of her, clear and straightforward. She would have James by the end of night. It was awhile before Amira noticed that she had not logged off of Geoffrey's page. Without a second thought, she closed out of his page, and the screen turned blank, colorless.

BEEP BEEP BEEP Caitlin pounded the horn of her car relentlessly.

Amira gathered her belongings, locked the door, and ran towards the dark and shining Jetta awaiting her.

"You're late"

"Sorry, dude, I had to deal with some punks."

"You mean your mom?"

"Yeah," Caitlin smirked, "she thought I was drinking and driving last night."

"It's about time she noticed," Amira chuckled.

Caitlin turned up the volume on her newly installed speakers, and the sound of T-Pain came blasting out of them, making the entire car vibrate. Amira never liked the repetitive nature of hip-hop because all the songs sounded like each other, but on nights like this she didn't mind. As a matter of fact, she thought the music was perfectly appropriate for partying. It reminded her of the weekends that she couldn't remember.

Once Caitlin parked the car, the party-house was not hard to spot. People with familiar faces filled the street and more loud hip-hop could be heard down the entire block. Amira and Caitlin exited the car, and entered the crowd with ease.

"Hey, what's up, guys," friend greeted them.

"Heeeyyy what's up, dude," Caitlin replied in-tune.

"You guys just get here?"

"Yup." Caitlin and Amira said together.

"Dude, you guys should check out the back room. I swear Kenan has like twenty-five bottles of Smirnoff in there."

"Oh f'sho! I guess Kenan's doing it big this time." Caitlin thanked the boy Amira forgot the name of, and the two of them set out into the core of the party. The usually well kept house smelled of fresh liquor and burnt marijuana. Drunk younger girls and stoned boys crowded the hallway, as hooded figures lingered in groups in the corner. The dim living room was just as crowded, as pairs of girls and boys made out on the couch and friends socialized in small circles. Caitlin lead the way through the chaos as Amira hastily scanned the different rooms for James. After greeting their friends and discussing the events from the night before, they finally reached the back room, where bottles of every different kind of liquor sat on the round table in the middle of the small circular room. Delighted by the find, Caitlin let out an "aha!" and picked up the closest bottle of liquor. Amira spotted James, but he was looking in the opposite direction, talking to a group of girls Amira only saw at parties. "Grey Goose. My favorite." Caitlin smiled widely at Amira, who took the bottle and grabbed the closest pile of shot glasses. With a loud booming voice, Amira said, "Drinking contest!" as she started pouring the liquor into the small round glasses. She discreetly kept her eye on James, who saw her and smiled. Amira took note of this, but pretended not to notice. She busied herself by passing out the liquor to the competitors, Caitlin and herself included.

The next couple of hours passed by as a blur. She had been talking to James for a large portion of that time. She had taken around five or six shots. She could not decipher the difference between T-Pain, the laughter, and the sound of talking. Everything was loud. A girl knocked into Amira, but neither of them noticed. Amira looked into the round mirror in the bathroom. Her straightened hair was starting to curl, and her make up was smearing. She turned the faucet on and splashed water on her red face. She watched the dirty water travel down the drain, forming a spiral. What the fuck am I doing? She needed fresh air. Amira stumbled out of the bathroom and towards the front porch door. Once outside, she sat on the wooden chair that looked out at the view, barely noticing the piercing cold. She looked out at the Bay, at the twinkling lights of the city and the bridges. A cruise ship traveled slowly below the Bay Bridge as the lighthouse on Alcatraz shined it's bright light around the island. She turned her head and looked up at the sky, and she spotted the North Star and the Big Dipper. The night sky reminded her of being with Geoffrey, of looking up into the sky together, hand in hand. The thought of Geoffrey was comforting to Amira. She didn't want to look away from the sky. It was beautiful, and she had an urge to paint a picture of it. And then she remembered. Oh shit, I never took the picture of the sunset. And then she remembered James. Where is he? Wait...I don't really care. What the hell am I doing here. She looked back into the house and watched her intoxicated friends move in circles around the kitchen and the living room. Some of the girls were dancing to the music, which was an incessant, monotonous beat Amira could feel through the wall of the house. Although she couldn't hear them talking, they all looked foolish to her. They did the same thing every weekend, which was to getting drunk. Damn, I wonder if they ever get bored, getting smashed every weekend like that. At least I don't... Amira paused. At least I don't... She had gotten drunk last night, last weekend, the weekend before that, and the weekend before that. That's how she spent every weekend, and she spent it with all the people she was watching through the window. Amira felt sick. I don't even want to be here. She wanted to go home and paint a picture. That's what she would do. For the first time, she would be doing something different. She would call Geoffrey and talk to him for hours on the phone while she painted.

Just as Amira was getting ready to go back in the house, the door behind her opened with a loud BANG as Caitlin came rushing through the door.

"Dude, where the eff were you? I was looking for you, we need to bounce right now. Hurry"

"What happened?"

"The cops are here. Kenan wants everyone to leave, but Stacey McDowell is having an after party. Let's go."

"Caitlin, I think I'm about to go home."

"Don't lie to yourself, I saw you with James. He wants a ride with us to Stacey's."

Amira paused. "It's cool, dude, I'm just about to go home."

"Wait, are you serious? Why are you going home so early, your parents aren't even home!" Caitlin seemed shocked.

"Because....uhhhhh" Wait...why was I gonna go home? I feel like I had a legit reason....

"It's cool, I'll drop you at your house if you want," Caitlin sighed.

Amira couldn't remember why she wanted to go home. Why would she want to go home anyways? She still needed to get with James, and Stacey McDowell's house was a good party-house

"Naw, I'm not trying to go home, it's hella early. I'm tripping"

"Haha that's what I thought. Let's go."