Innocent Murderers

[1] things go wonderfully right (or horribly wrong)

The ocean breathes in perfect timing with the hammering and incessance of my heart. The two off-beat melodies crash in their own immaculate chaos somewhere far away from where my mind is. Waves pulse as my eyes flit back and forth, an elysian representation in colour and nature of the delicate in and out the tide emulates. My lips are parted, barely, in a gentle frown. I clench my fingers in a daring stance, like I'm struggling to contain the truth. I am, but the idea of letting go of such a thing as the truth is what has brought me here anyway.

A breeze strokes my cheek like a loving mother, but it doesn't comfort me. Instead, I look up and grimace at the storm clouds above. Dark and looming, like an upcoming test or other horribly normal occurrence.

The first droplet lands on my cheek, like a tear. The second on my head, like a teasing shower. The third and fourth and hundreds other throw themselves at me like my apparent unluckiness and I don't bother to shield myself from them. I have no shoes on, they're up at the house, so I clench my feet into the sand, requesting warmth and shelter.

I only turn and start to run when thunder scampers across the sky. I grin when the rain gets heavier, and heavier until I am completely drenched and shivering. Barefoot, I sprint to the path and see red bricks, made diminutive by distance. The house is welcoming in a forlorn kind of way when I swing the heavy doors open and step inside. Shelter sends courteous warmth into my clothes and I lean against the shut door, laughing.

And then normalcy strikes a bombardment of memories free, feelings I tried to forget and the people I left behind. A single tear escapes on a mad dash down my cheek.

The only raindrop that isn't as cold as my past.

T H R E E M O N T H S E A R L I E R

The street is painfully quiet this late at night, like everything is watching me break the hundreds of rules my parents have drilled into me since I was but a tiny baby. Mel's hand is clutched into mine, like I'm a thief, and she's the precious item I stole. My best friend is laughing, exuberant like me in the pursuit of rule-breaking, very-wrong activities. Luckily, both of us decided against heels because of blisters, but this now seems more of an appropriate reason: running through a very rich neighbourhood at ten o'clock at night. Luckily, my navy blue converse have already been worn down to the last thread, making them exceedingly comfortable and easy to run in. I hop over a pothole as we turn a corner, just five houses down we stop, and catch our breath.

"Come on," Mel says, already recovered, "This is his house,"
I look up, the house is nearly as over the top expensive as mine, just without the creepy angel baby statue balancing precariously next to the steps.
"Looks nice," I compliment, finally standing up straight. She turns and smirks.
"It's okay, Kennedy. I know you're only saying it looks nice because it's Noah's house."
I punch her lightly in the arm, but I know she's right. Noah and I have been almost in a relationship for three years. We've kissed four times, almost had sex two and made suggestive eye contact almost every day. He's hosting a party tonight for his birthday and Mel seems to think this is the night we finally get together.

She lifts up the lion knocker and drops it onto the door twice. A few seconds later, the door swings open and ear-shattering music echoes out and smothers us. I inhale the smell of alcohol and smoke before I even start to register Noah standing before us. Of course, I start coughing and Mel slaps my back to get me to stop.
"Are you okay?" A voice startles me into standing back up straight and Noah is staring at me with annoyingly pretty brown eyes.
"Yeah, sorry." I clear my throat, "Hi."
"Hi, come in," He replies, combing a hand through the blonde hair flopped onto his forehead.

One tentative foot after another, and I'm in his house. Not that I can see much through the darkness broken only by flashing lights, but the hall we've stepped into is surprisingly modern for the Victorian exterior acting only as a mirror for the majority of the houses in the neighbourhood. I rub my hands on my arms, and then smooth out my shorts. Noah lays a hand on my shoulder, and shivers travel down my spine.

"It's okay, follow me," He whispers in my ear, which I can only just hear against the pounding electronic music shaking the building. I am lead into the kitchen, where a huge pile of Coke cans is situated. My eyes light up, and he laughs behind me.

"I knew you'd be here, so I went crazy."
"But it's supposed to be your birthday!" I protest, frozen in excitement. Parties are fun. Noah steps forward and throws me a can which I only just catch in my shaking hands. I fumble to crack it open and when I do I raise it to his beer bottle.

"Cheers," He says, and I wonder why my own British accent never sounds so charming.

"To you," I grin back, goofily. Our drinks collide in mid air and we laugh. I am suddenly deaf to the music, and blind to the people around us as we step closer to each other. His eyes bore into mine, and he takes hold of my elbow.

I place my arms around his neck, my coke can hanging with my hands. I feel a light tap of his bottle against my back as he pulls me close to him.

"Noah, I," I start.

"Kennedy, I like you." He finishes for me.

I step back and look up at him.

"I like you too,"

We don't kiss, and fireworks don't explode because this isn't a movie.

A few hours pass of us goofing around and sharing stolen moments behind walls and outside behind trees, but we don't kiss. Not once.

It somehow makes it more special.

When the sun starts to rise, Mel comes to me looking dazed and in love, but it could just be the alcohol.

"Hi, Kenny." She says to me. I laugh and take her by the shoulders.

"You should take her home," Noah says from behind me.

I nod, but I still have a question.

"Are we, you know, boyfriend and girlfriend?" I ask, quietly. For a moment he focuses on the floor.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I smile and walk away, with Mel blabbering beside me.

Now, it's time to face the wrath. But it'll be okay.

I have a boyfriend.

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