Ethel 'n Opal

one

e t h e l   d i x o n

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The opening lines to "Essence" by WizKid sounds through the stifling air, fueling the frenzied energy that's so fucking suffocating in this random kid's house. Who's? I'm not even sure. All I know is that Amanda had invited me here to "talk", and now here I am.

Speaking of Amanda, I watch her in her element from a distance. She grinds herself on this nigga I have no clue who he could be. Now that I think about it, maybe I have seen him before. In class? During lunch? At practice? I dunno.

Maybe he's the reason she's been distant. The reason she automatically loses interest whenever we're doing something together because she just has to check her phone.

Maybe he's the reason I'm standing alone in this corner of the in-house bar. Feeling bitter, cheap, played, and heartbroken.

But then again, maybe he's just this random guy she met ten minutes after what went down upstairs. And like the good ol' samaritans they were, they hit it off pretty well if my eyes ain't deceiving me.

Either way, my tipsy brain gave up long before I could even dig up the nerve to think about this any more. So I sigh, wrapping my arms tightly around myself - afraid I'll break down if I don't. I don't care when the drink in my solo cup sloshes a little onto my two-piece outfit. I just hold myself, wedging the metaphorical knife deeper when I force myself to watch them start making out.

How does she commit to us for almost three years? Late night convos, staying up till 3 a.m. because her insomnia was at it's worst that night. Being there for all the little milestones because I wanted to - no one was forcing me to do that shit. She introduced me to her family, talking bout some "I feel like the important people in my life should know each other". That one right there really got me - lying ass bitch. She was my best friend, of course I couldn't keep anything from her. When she would hold me, I'd spill all my secrets and insecurities, thinking that she'd never throw that shit in my face. I thought wrong.

"You're just so angry all the time."

"People think you're stuck up. That's why my friends never wanna hang when we're together."

"Would it kill you to not act like a bitch for once?"

"I'm just not ready for anything serious... and ya'know, I don't think you are either."

God I really thought wrong. A part of me wished that this was just one of our moments. Like how we usually fuck up to make up. Sure we're young but I don't care, she's my person and I'm hers. At least I used to be. But there was no making up this time. How do I commit to her for almost three years, only for her to take it all away from me under the whim that she's "just not ready for anything serious"?

"Ethel you good?" A concerned voice startles me out of my daze. I look at my brother, Marc, and he sways a little. Or maybe I'm the one that sways.

I can't help to feel all icky from the pity I see in his eyes. He probably saw everything I saw too. I muster up all the remaining energy I have and plaster on a megawatt smile. It wobbled a little -but only a little. "I'm fiiine, watchu need?" I quickly wipe away a tear that threatened to escape, hoping that it came off as me merely scratching under my eye.