ᴀᴅ ᴍᴇʟɪᴏʀᴀ ~ ᴅᴘꜱ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴇᴋꜱ)

5 - strike out

"Does this look ok?"

I twirl for Amy, showing off my outfit.

She gives me a quick glance up and down before turning back to the small mirror hung above her dresser.

"I mean, yeah. I don't see why you're getting all dolled-up. I guarantee all of them are just going to show up in their school uniforms."

"Just because their standards are below sea level doesn't mean mine have to sink as well."

Amy looks over her shoulder and playfully rolls her eyes. "Let's see how long that attitude lasts."

She finishes brushing out her long black hair and uses her thumb to smudge the rouge on her lips. I've never been the biggest fan of makeup, but something about the way Amy so elegantly paints and accentuates her features almost makes me reconsider.

She faces me and crosses her arms. "You got us permission to leave campus, right?"

"Of course. I worked that out with Duvall Friday."

"Alright, so we're set. Let's head out. I want to beat them there so I can sneak in a cig before Cameron starts shaming me."

-

As we walk, I recount my first week of school.

It went by quickly. The days blurred as I anxiously anticipated the weekend. Amy began warming up to me, slowly appearing at the dorm more frequently around mealtimes so we could leave together.

I don't think she knows I've noticed. Let's keep it that way.

The weather steadily improved since my science class Monday. Now, as I once again fall in step behind Amy to some unknown location, there's not a cloud in the sky. I take a deep breath and savor the temperate evening air.

Four blocks and three wrong turns later, Amy and I find ourselves in front of a bowling alley.

Amy leans against the wall and reaches into her bag, producing a pack of Marlboros. I instinctually settle beside her. She offers me a cigarette, already beginning to retract it before I can decline. She knows I'll say no, but she still asks to be polite.

We stand in silence, absorbing the soft murmur of the evening crowd around us. In previous years, I wasn't too privy to leaving campus. Bee and I always managed to make our own fun on the weekends we weren't swamped with schoolwork. I never really stopped to take in the beauty of downtown Montpelier before now.

Our moment is ruined as a series of exaggerated coughs cut through the quiet. I turn my head to Amy. She's got her cigarette to her lips, taking a long drag while staring off into the distance. I follow her gaze until it connects with a boy. He's doubled over, wheezing violently. I push off of the wall to go help him, but Amy's arm extends across my chest to hold me back.

"Just wait," she says.

I start to complain, but before I can get a word out, the boy composes himself. He straightens his posture, revealing a heavily freckled face, ginger hair, and an unusually proper outfit for downtown Montpelier on a Saturday evening. I then notice the group of equally overdressed boys around him, all grinning in matching blazers and slacks.

"You're so funny, Cameron. Have you ever considered stand-up?" Amy asks, no amusement lacing her voice.

"Just giving you a glimpse into your future if you keep smoking those things," Cameron retorts.

"Smoking isn't bad for you, dunce. Haven't you seen the commercials?"

"Jury's still out on that one. Haven't you seen the studies?"