The Shape Of Esme's Thoughts

-  Chapter One -

It was just like us. All my friends and I, that is. There was no one else like us around. We all had two sides to us. No one else knew, but we all did. There was us in front of people, the beating and gambling and risks, living for the thrill. But then, there were the secrets. To everyone else, we seemed like bad kids, troubled as they say. But we had secrets, reasons for spending nights at the station with Larry the Officer who always smelled like stale bread. Reasons for winning, or more often, losing money that wasn't our gambling behind the old library in town. We had seven secrets in all, one for each person. We each had our fair share of secrets, but we only shared the biggest, most awful one. We wrote them all down last summer, and I was entrusted to hold the most valuable pieces of information this town would ever know. At the top of the paper, in bold letters was scrolled: The undoubtable and undeniable secrets of Portland. After that, it went on with some of the deepest and darkest things we all knew, things that we would take to the grave.

Cherry- I live in the backseat of a Posterazzi.

Sam- My father killed himself.

Milli- My parents kicked me out.

Bubblegum- I was held hostage for almost seven months.

Cola- I ran from home at thirteen.

Jasper- I parents let me start drinking at ten years old.

Esme- * ****** ** ******.

    I do apologize, but I can't just go spilling my gut just yet. Anyway, that's what I was thinking about when Cola came up to me.

    "Esme, I need help." She looked a bit startled, which is saying a lot because Cola has an amazing poker face and never looks startled or upset.

    "Like I said last week if you need to get rid of something, go to the incinerator, not me."

    "No." She says in a whispered shout. "It's not that. You'll cut class for me, right?" When I nod, she goes on. "Okay. There was just a missing person alert sent out about some snot-nosed kid from the private school a few blocks from the old library building. They're starting the search in half an hour, and they'll be sweeping the whole street. I've got..." She looks off for a moment, thinking. "You ain't no snitch, right?"

    "Jesus Christ Cola, how long have you known me?"

    "Right, right, sorry. There's a red duffel bag under that one shelf with the red bird sticker on it, know the one?" I nod. Of course, I know it, we used to use it as a punching bag. "It's got a few... incriminating items in it." She meant drugs and we both knew it. It's how she got her nickname. Cola's real name is Sarah Finnegan, but no one called her that. Cola sells a lot of drugs, but mostly coke. We were going to call her Coke, but she thought it was too girly and way too obvious. We ended up settling on Coca-Cola, which ended up being shortened to Cola. "Once I sell, I'll split forty sixty."

    "Call it forty-five and you've got yourself a deal." I drop my cigarette in front of me, standing and crushing it with my foot. Cola nods, jogging distractedly away.

    Here we go again. I think to myself, walking purposefully away. I needed to get there, and the faster the better. I start into a sprint. I didn't know what time it was exactly, but it was around noon. Only two busses go to the bus stop on Bloomingdale street, the seven am and the twelve-fifteen. I needed to hurry if I was going to get there.

    I arrive at the bus stop just as the twelve-fifteen bus pulls in. I swiftly take a seat in the back. There's next to no one on the bus, only a few elderly women sitting in the handicapped chairs. If the bus was like this on the way back, I might be able to take the bus back, too. If it was bursting with people, like the seven am bus back always was, I'd have to walk home. I'm not as brave as Cola. Cola would get on the bus filled with people and ris, getting caught with a duffel full of coke. I'd prefer to spend my night on Bubblegum's basement couch then on those god awful holding cell benches. I step off the bus, looking at the screen displaying the time and then the next bus leaving. Shit. I thought I'd have more time than this. It was twelve twenty-five. I had five minutes to get the duffel and get the hell out of there. I start running for the square building sitting near the end of the street. The old library building. It was run down, but it was home for us. We met there every day after school, Milli usually bringing some kind of liquor and Cola bringing some drugs. I don't do drugs, and neither does Jasper. Both of us drink and smoke, though. None of our other friends understand why we smoke.

    "It feels like when you're sittin' by a fire and smoke blows in your face," Sam had asked a few weeks ago. To that, I always said the same thing.

    "Yeah? Well, I don't understand you guys with your pot. It feels like when you sit too close to the first and get all hot and melty feelin'." I shake the thought from my head as I rush into the library building, just as a small bell is rung. The starting noise. I glance out the window. Cops are flooding the streets, guns out. What the hell? Over one missing kid? I pull out my phone, flicking through the local news. I curse under my breath. Abigail Tomas. Mayor Tomas' daughter. I dash behind a shelf as the door slams open. I look around frantic. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the duffel out of the corner of my eye. I pull the Gator out of my pocket, pulling it all the way over my face. I tuck in my hair and pull the hood of my plain black hoodie over my head. I spring up, grabbing the duffel and making a silent dash for the back door. Neither of the cops notices as I slip into the alley behind the library. I fall to my knees, crawling under the bench just outside the back door. I shimmy down the shallow hole Cherry dug for when things got heated at home. She'd sleep here overnight, snuggled in the dirt-colored blanket until the next morning when we found her and offered one of our couches up for the night. I wrapped the dirty brown blanket tightly around my back. I breathe in and out, steadying my breath. I begin to zone out because I know I'm going to be here until the search is over. Damn Cola and her coke.

    It was well into the next afternoon before they found the girl, cowering in the woods just outside the city. Apparently, a guy named Earl had tried to kidnap her and the city was pressing charges. I was freezing and starved when the whole gang showed up. After going over what happened to the girl, this is what I got.

    "I'm real sorry Essy," She only ever called me that when she was really trying to get on my good side. "Cool?" She holds out her fist. I punch it, a little harder than necessary.

    "Damn you Cola, I can't be mad at you." She gives her movie star smile. Cola's tall, real tall. Not the few-inches-above-average kind of tall, but the 6'11" kind of tall. She had brown, short hair and towered over the rest of us, but was by far the least frightening. Each of us had our own kind of bad. Flavors, as we called them. Cola had a high flavor of bad. She was untouchable. She monetarily towered over everyone but the mayor, though she didn't dress or act like it. She kept to her white tees and flannels unbuttoned. Everyone knew she dealt coke, but Cola was a bold kind of careful. She acted shady when there was nothing on her, and bold when there was. Sometimes she'd change, be bold when there was nothing on her, and shady when there was, just to keep the police guessing. The Cherry on the other hand was a slutty flavor of bad. She made a lot of money but blew it all on drugs that made you see things. She's slept with every kid at the school, aside from the gang. Guys and girls, she did everyone, even the teachers. She made it her goal to sleep with everyone in the school by senior year. It wasn't that hard, everyone fell head over heels for her natural platinum hair and toned body. We just didn't think she'd finish halfway through sophomore year. Sam was a silent flavor of bad. He knew everything about everyone. People came to him for revenge. He'd plant drugs on people, or destroy their most precious possessions. He'd ruined some kid's lives, but no one suspected him. Everyone thought they were the only ones talking to the kid with the orange hair and baseball jersey and lots and lots of secrets. Milli was a party flavor of bad. She partied all the time, and always got super high and drunk. She lived with a drunken bastard named Tony who's only rule for letting her stay there is that he can ask her for anything he wanted. All her money went to him, and they had sex almost every night. Most of the time, she either was so shit faced she couldn't remember where his house was or she, reasonably, didn't want to go back, so she'd wander the streets until one of us realized that she wasn't at the party and picked her up. She'd sprawl out on our couches, dark brown shoulder-length hair twisted around her neck. She never smiled when she was like that. She'd talk about dark things, talk about killing herself. She tried a few times, in a drunken, high fit. But she always woke up smiling, even though all the scars that she had. Bubblegum was a brawler type of bad. He beat kids senseless. He was always so angry, picking fights with any kid who so much as tried to disagree with him. He was short but strong. He wasn't jacked, and actually was kind of skinny. Don't let that fool you, though. He'd tear you apart. Bubblegum wasn't as tough as he seemed, though. I knew something about Bubblegum that not even Sam knew. Once, at a party, Bubblegum passed out at a party. We had a rock paper scissors war to see who's couch he got to crash on. Needless to say, I lost. I brought him home, but my dad was drunk, so I drove my truck to the overflow parking. He slept for a few hours while I listened to the radio. Without warning, Bubblegum started thrashing around in the backseat.

    "Bubblegum?" He continues, not hearing me. I start shouting his name, but he just goes on. I hop out of the backseat, ripping open the backseat door and pulling Bubblegum to the floor. He's making this odd whimpering noise like a puppy who's been hit.

    "Brian!" I shout. Using someone's real name wasn't a way of being upset here. If someone called you by your opposite name, your nickname if you're normally called by your name, and your real name if you're normally called by your nickname, it meant they were concerned or wanted them to like you again. "Brian!" I call again, but he just continues to shiver and thrash. Suddenly, he gasps, sitting up and looking around in a panic.

   "Brian," He backs away a bit, scared. "It's alright, you're in the overflow parking lot. It's like three am and you passed out at the party." Bubblegum looks around, sighing.

    "Listen, Esme," He looks at me seriously. "I'm going to tell you something and you have to swear to tell no one else." I nod and he continues. This was long before we learned each other's secrets. "Remember when I left school for a few months and never gave anyone a reason?" I nod again. "I was held hostage by some guys for almost seven months. I have PTSD from it." He turns away from me, almost embarrassed. When he speaks again, it's quieter, almost as if he doesn't want me to hear. "I didn't eat much when I was there, and it just kind of morphed into anorexia when I got back. And... well I've never told anyone this... but... I suppose I'll just show you." He stands up, letting his jacket to the floor. His arms are badly burned, red all over. He turns around, smiling embarrassedly. "So wh-" He's cut off as I rush up to him, hugging him tightly. Jasper was different from all of us. He was tight with everyone, a shmoozer. He could get anyone to do anything. Like Sam, everyone thought they were the only one's friends with the blonde-haired kid who looked and talked like a movie star.

    "Hello, earth to Esme?" Cola tugs my long silver hair, one of my classic braids comes lose. I'd worn my hair the same way as long as I could remember. I wore my hair down, two braids starting at my temple and meeting in the back of my head. I slap her hand, pinning my hair back.

    "Yeah?"

    "We were talking about the fight tomorrow. Bubblegum got outta sorts with that Clark kid who's already done senior year twice. Won't be a hard fight. Imma goes and so's Bubblegum, we were wondering if you wanted to come. He might end up bringing his cronies with him. You won't need to join in less there's a whole lot of them, but couldn't hurt." I nod, shrugging.

    "I wouldn't mind a fight. So long as they don't bring their chains into it. That shit's just annoying." Bubblegum nods in agreement.

    "It won't happen this time, grounds rules. Weapons out, conventional weapons only, no guns. It'll probably be a lot of bats and blades. I'm bringing my steele one."

    "I'm bringing my Susie." Susie was Cola's favorite knife, a nice sized machete. "What's your game plan?" Cola always plays to my flavor of bad. It was good at planning. She was always asking me for fighting advice and having me plan brawls.

    "I'll probably bring my shortie," I'm not good with knife names. I just named them things that were a whole lot easier to remember. The shortie was a black hilted blade that was not short. It was medium-sized and slender. It was good for close combat. "Cut a few bitches." Cola and Bubblegum laugh a bit at this.

    "Just be careful, I heard that they have a new kid. Luke or Lukas or something." Sam mentioned half-heartedly.

    "Dibs!" I exclaim, as I always do when there's someone new in Clark's gang. I liked to get the first hit. We went on like that for a while, talking and laughing, joking about the most serious things. We liked to joke about the fights, but we knew that bad thing could happen. Some kid a few towns over were in a brawl like the ones we have, and he was most literally beaten to death. We all knew what we were doing, and we did it anyway. Eventually, the sun started to set and we said our goodbyes. Cola had a few drinks, and Milli was close to being shit faced.

    "I can drive you home," Cola offers.

    "No way, I'll drive you home. My pops are outta town, you can crash at my place." Cola smiles a bit as she climbs into the passenger seat. We drive home with the radio on high. We both liked the same kind of music, rock. Not metalhead kind, but the tasteful kind of rock.

    We pulled up into my driveway. My pops were out of town, so I wasn't going to get shit this time for having Cola crash at my place. I go to plop down on my usual spot on the love seat. I always let my friends take the couch. Before I can, Cola grabs my wrist, turning me towards her.

    "I..." She looks away, thinking. "I don't know if I'm just a little drunk, or if I'm nervous about the brawl tomorrow, but I feel like I should tell you something."

    "Cola?"

    "I love you, Esme!" She shouts, closing her eyes. She slowly opens them, as I look up at her shocked. "I'm sorry, I've been in love with you since forever... and I know it's weird, but I have a bad feeling about tomorrow and I just thought I should tell you." She looks away a bit. Thoughts escaped me then. I'd felt the same way, but I never thought she felt this way. I reach my hand up, holding her cheek in my palm. She looked a bit taken aback. She began to lean closer to me, placing her hands on my hips. I allow my other hand to fall onto her shoulder. She smiled. I realized then, that I was smiling too. I never did that. Our lips met then. Her lips were soft against mine. Her cherry lipstick was sweet and she was ever so slightly warmer than me. She started kissing me harder, pushing me onto the couch. She pulled me close to her chest, swallowing me in her warmth. We lay there like that forever, taking each other in. Eventually, we dozed off, content.

    When I woke up, Cola wasn't beside me. Instead, a cream-colored blanket had been thrown over me, tucked tightly around my body. I sit up, slightly shocked. Had she just left me there? A low rumble of a laugh comes from the kitchen, which attached to our living room.

    "Don't go jumping out of your skin there." My father was standing there, in his tall, burly, unshaven glory. He looked hungover, but then again, he usually did.

    "Sorry, I didn't realize that I fell asleep on the couch." He gives something between a chuckle and a snicker.

    "Yeah, you probably got fucked up with those friends of yours again," He looks at me pointedly. "If I knew better I'd kick you to the curb." I look down at my lap.

    "I know," I said quietly.

    "Good. Now get lost."

    "But I need to change." He laughs loudly.

    "Mooch off one of your stupid friends, it's all you're good for anyway." He spits the words out like they're venom in his mouth. I frown, getting up. He chucks an empty bottle at me. I duck, letting it hit the wall behind me. I run out the door, dashing out into the street. I breathe heavily for a moment, then start walking towards the nine twenty bus headed for Washington Avenue.

    Cola lived in her own flat on Washington Avenue. She was filthy rich, with the drugs and all. She could live in any house in this town, but she liked the flat just the way it was. She was on the top floor, and her door had a red mailbox instead of a black one. I knocked seven times, the way all the gang members did. Just like we called Clark and his cronies Clark's gang, everyone else called us Jasper's gang. He was the public face of our friend group. Cola opens up.

    "Oh, Essy." She looked at the floor. "Your dad came home. I would've woken you up but you looked so calm... I just..." I shrug.

    "It's fine. I just can't go back until later." I step inside, and Cola pulls me into a hug.

    "I'm sorry." Cola was the only one who knew about my dad. It wasn't my biggest secret, the one on the list, but it was something that I definitely didn't was anyone else to know. I didn't really tell Cola, she saw. She was crashing at my house, in my room because my pops were home. He beat me good that night, for no real reason. She helped me patch up after. We didn't talk about it much but she was always there when I needed to talk. I hug her back.

    "It's fine." She ruffles my hair a bit.

    "If you say so." She smiles at me, in her sincere yet apprehensive way. She wasn't buying it, and I couldn't blame her. I probably wasn't okay, and that probably wasn't okay, but it'd be fine. "Wanna play Monopoly?" That was another thing I loved about Cola. She collected board games and books but also partied. She was the exact right mix of present and past.

    "Sure." I sat on the rug in the middle of the apartment. It was where we always played board games there, and it still had a stain from where she spilled wine on it last year.

    "Anniversary edition or normal?"

    "Normal." We played forever. We both won once and about halfway through a tiebreaker game, we realized the time.

    "Shit. It's almost eight. The brawl starts at eight-thirty. We better scram. Got your shortie?" I touch my pocket. Of course, I have my shortie. I never went anywhere without it. I nod, standing up, holding my hand out to Cola to help her up. "That ain't how it works. I'd knock you on our butt quick, short stacks." She stands, and I cross my arms.

    "I'm not that short..." She bends down, kissing my cheek.

    "Yes, you are." She leaves her lips lingering just above my cheek as she says that. She moves her face so that her lips are almost touching mine. I stand on my tiptoes, kissing her gently. She deepens it, pulling me in and pressing herself against me. Suddenly, the door springs open. We jump apart as Bubblegum walks out of her coatroom.

    "Hey, guys, ready for the brawl?" I nod anxiously.

    "Yeah, mhm," Cola says, calm as always. We all leave and get into Cola's Hummer. The brawl was going to happen in the overflow parking lot. It's only a few blocks from the apartment complex, so we get there pretty fast. Clark was standing there with eight other guys, way more than usual. We get out of the car slowly.

    "What's with the extra guys?" Bubblegum shrugs at my question.

    "You're gonna need to fight, but it's nothing you can't take." We all flick out of weapons. Bubblegum had a metal bat, and both me and Cola had blades. Three guys on the other gang had bats, no problem for Bubblegum to take. That left six others. I'd start with three, but probably end up fighting four. We all take steps forward. I lunge forward, going after the new one. I always started the brawls I was in. The new guy, who's the name I didn't quite know yet, was taken a bit off guard. I gab him quick in the hand. He winces.

    "Guess we're starting this thing." His deep voice matched his dark brown hair and mature looking features. He gets in a good hit to my side. While he does this, I slice his cheek, bringing up my foot, attempting to collide it with his other cheek. He grabs my foot, trying to push me back. I use this, stomping my foot in the ground with him still holding it. He falls, and I hear his hand crunch under my foot. He cries out. I put my knife to his throat.

    "Forfeit?" He smirks.

    "Not quite." He slashes my back with a knife in his good hand. He cut the entire length of my back, deep. I grab his hand and throw the knife away, punching his face. "Okay fine, shit. I forfeit." I back up, moving to the other guys. I end up taking the other three. By the end, I'm feeling really lightheaded. I lost a lot of blood from the cut on my back. Everyone screamed, everyone, that is, but the new guy.

    "You fight well. I'm Luke." He holds out his hand. When I don't shake it, he puts it by his side and continues. "I'm new in town, and I'm throwing a party next week. I'd love it if you and some of your friends could come."

    "Yeah, fXXX you. Got my back good out there." He looks upset.

    "Yeah? And you broke my hand. Imma has to get it checked out." He thinks a bit. "Just... Think about it." He walks off, and I'm left there. Bubblegum and Cola in the car, watching the new guy walk hopelessly away.