And His Jacket Smelled of Cigarettes

04 · Phones

    
     "Shay, I'm a fucking idiot," I yelled, falling backward onto my bed. I let out a long sigh, putting Shay on speaker so I didn't have to hold my cellphone.
    
     "Wow, did it really take you this long?" Shay responded, the sound of chips crunching on her end.
    
     "What am I gonna do? I totally forgot Nick didn't work today. He's gonna ruin everything!"
    
     "You could always knock him out. Give him the ol' silent but deadly."
    
     "Are you sure that's a thing?"
    
     "Totally."
    
     "Damnit, Shay, you aren't helping," I sat up and looked into the mirror I had mounted on my wall, my light green eyes staring back at me. My hair pointed every which way, and my petite build made the dark sweatshirt I was wearing practically hang off of my body.
    
     "Do you even have anything other than that sweatshirt you wear 24/7? Like, girly shit. Y'know, stuff girls wear."
    
     "You mean stuff you wear."
    
     "Exactly. If you would've called me sooner, maybe I would've lent you something."
    
     "You're like half a foot taller than me. Nothing would fit."
    
     "Not like it'd be anything different than that sweatshi-"
   
     "God! Quiet, already! I won't wear the sweatshirt, alright? You've made your fucking point," I huffed, standing up and walking over to my closet. As I swung open the door, I almost expected a tumbleweed to come bouncing out of it. About five dark colored shirts on hangers were pushed to the left side, and three pairs of black jeans were pushed to the right. If my closet could starve, it would be famished, and probably dead. A giggle came tauntingly from the phone, which was still sitting on the bed.
    
     "You're fuckin' screwed," Shay laughed, drawing out the last word.
    
     "You're a horrible friend."
    
     "Sorry, girly, I tried. Fuck, just take the damn sweater off. At least then you won't look fucking homeless."
    
     Sighing, the sweatshirt finally came off. I walked to the mirror again, studying myself. Black jeans, gray t-shirt. Flat chested, short, and lastly, boy-ish.
    
     "Why do I have to look like a twelve year old boy."
    
     "Oh, shut up, Jen. You don't look twelve."
    
     "Really?"
    
     "I would've said eight, but y'know," she paused, finishing off a mouth-full of chips, "I think you're still cute. Maybe if you wore some makeup once in a while, you wouldn't have that old lady down the street always asking you how old you are, or saying that you 'really are your father's son'."
    
     I picked up a brush off of my dresser and combed through my hair, attempting to tame it, even though I knew it was useless. My short hair in the front feathered back and out of my face, but some pieces in the back and everywhere else stayed sticking up, no matter how many times I brushed over them. A groan escaped me as I set the brush down, not feeling very accomplished. Carefully running my hand across the pale skin of my face, thoughts of makeup entered my mind, causing me to sigh once more.  I had never been good at it, although I had never practiced putting it on, either. I was a total tomboy, and it was hard to be anything else.
    
     "C'mon, Joshy boy," Shay teased, "time to woman up."
    
     "Fuck you," I growled, angered that she could be doing this during a time that was important to me. "I'll call you later."
    
     "Wait, Jen, I'm sor--" I tapped a button to hang up the phone before she could finish.
    
     I sat on my bed for a while, hearing my phone vibrate every couple of minutes, which I assumed were texts from Shay. She could be a real asshole sometimes, but she was one of the only people that actually liked me.
    
     Picking up my phone and turning it on, I went to my messages app. Shay's conversation had twelve unread messages, and there was one brand new conversation with two.

8:39PM   
     Unknown: Hey. This is Athan.
     Unknown: Mind giving me the deets to get to your place?

     I quickly opened up the on-screen keyboard to text back:

8:44PM
     Jen: hey. and yea np
     Jen: 1853 jaynid dr. it's like right down the street from school lol
8:45PM
     Athan: Sweet. Be there in a few.
     Jen: cool. see you soon

      I dropped my phone on the bed and ran to the door of my room, swung it open and raced into the living room. My older brother, Nick, was sitting in my dad's chair, furiously tapping on an xbox controller.
    
     "Nick."
    
     "What's up, Jenny? I'm a bit busy," he said, his eyes glued to the television.
    
     "I need you to do me a favor. It's urgent."
    
     "After this game, we can negotiate."
    
     I moved in front of the screen, holding my arms out. "Now, Nick. I'm serious."
    
     "Jesus. Fine. What, did you rob a gas station or something?"
    
     "Don't be an idiot," I crossed my arms, "I just need you to leave for a couple hours."
    
     Nick laughed, "Um. Yeah, no. Get out from in front of the TV, shrimp."
    
     "I'll unplug your stupid xbox."
    
     "Move."
    
     "Come on, it's only for a few hours!"
    
     Nick stood up and approached me, his jaw clenching with anger, "Don't think I won't fuck you up just because you're younger than me, or smaller than me. Or that you're a girl."
    
     "Nick, please," I tilted my head back, my eyes becoming locked with his, "I'll give you every cent I have. I just need a few hours."
    
     "Every cent?" Nick's eyebrow raised.
    
     "Yes, fuck. I've been saving up for a laptop and doing extra chores around the house. That's about 200 dollars, cash."
    
     "Deal," Nick's facial expression instantly relaxed and he smiled, turning off the gaming console, "that gets you three hours. Mom and dad won't be back 'til the end of the week, so you won't have to worry about them."
    
     "Thank you, Nick. Thank you!"
    
     "Whatever, don't go all gooey on me. I'm going to Andrew's house for the time being," Nick walked to the front door, grabbing a jacket off of the coat rack, "and I don't wanna see any newspaper headlines of my seventeen-year-old little sister being raped or killed, 'kay?"
    
     "Nick, I--"
    
     "Just be safe. I expect my money by tomorrow, too." Slipping his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, Nick opened the door and walked out. "Message me if something goes wrong."
    
     Waiting until Nick got onto the sidewalk and started down the street, I finally closed the door. I couldn't contain my joy.
    
     "I.. I did it. I can't believe I fucking did it! Haha! Woo!" I spun around, danced, and leapt onto the couch, my cheeks burning from smiling. In the back of my head, though, I couldn't help but think.
    
     Let's just hope this guy is worth a new laptop.