The Precise Art Of Staying Alive

Chapter 1 - The Precise Art Of Beautiful Monsters

The rain assaulted my head as I shuffled across the wet tarmac, moving as one with the crowd of school kids, our bodies pressed closed together, the warmth offering a slight respite from the bitterly cold afternoon. My boots splashed through puddles, the glittering lights of the city reflected in them, shining through the haze of rain. All around, the street was loud with the sounds of the pupils of Queens High talking and laughing, the words blurring together in an incessant wave of chatter. Somewhere in the distance, police sirens blared, creating a chaotic symphony that I relished. I followed the stream of students across the road, holding up cars and eliciting various honks and insults. Beside me, my closest friend Nicole pushed damp tendrils of hair out of her eyes, tucking them back into her tight bun before scowling at the sky.

"God I hate this weather," She remarked bluntly. "It dampens the world, deadens it. Makes me feel dead." I frowned at her, confused. For me, it had the exact opposite effect.: it made me feel alive; wild and free, and as for the world itself; everything was sharper, clearer, more intense. I tipped my head up towards the sky, the towering skyscrapers obscured by clouds of mist, and breathed in the frigid air.

"I know. You've only told me about twenty times or so. Besides, you'd better get used to it, given where we're going." I said, looking back onto the dark crowd of people in front of me.

"Snow's different. It covers everything, conceals, but not deadens. In rain, we may as well all be bugs in a storm water drain, or something equally helpless, like toddlers."

"That was oddly poetic. Ever consider a career in literature?" I asked, smiling as Nicole threw an unimpressed glare at me.

"God forbid. Besides, if you truly want to be poetic, try talking about the shimmering stars or other beautiful, ground-breaking things." Nicole said, sarcasm seeping into her voice. I snorted and a smile began to grace Nicole's face. Her hatred of English was no great secret, and a consistent joke between us. I looked out into the crowd, a figure catching my eye.

"Speaking of beautiful." I murmured, almost inaudibly, and Nicole looked down at me, her eyebrows raised.

"Nothing." I murmured, having anticipated her question, and already turned away, my gaze sweeping back to the crowd, searching out that familiar face. In the drab crowd, she was a beacon of vibrancy, of life. Elements of her stood out; her loose, black curls tumbling over her shoulders, almond-shaped eyes and the flecks of sparkling golden eye shadow in the corner of them. They all combined to make a captivating picture, someone so stunningly alive, so beautiful and yet still so human, so imperfect, that it was impossible to look away. But I did. I at least had some grip on reality, no matter if it wavered briefly when I looked at her.

Nicole was looking around the crowd too, her eyes snagging on her boyfriend, Will, who was forcing his way through the crowd to her, his blond hair falling over his eyes. Nicole elbowed someone, shoving them out of the way, before stepping up to him. Despite Nicole's tall frame, she only came up to his nose, and she stood on her tiptoes to look up at him, a half smile on her face, before turning away, hooking my arm through hers and shoving her way through the crowd.

"Walk with us. We're going to be late, and we need you as a battering ram." She offered, tossing a glance over her shoulder at Will. Will trailed behind, his eyes on Nicole's back, and I almost rolled my eyes. It was a little tragic how much he liked her, but then again, I couldn't talk, and it wasn't like she didn't reciprocate his feelings. I held out my arm to Will, and he took it, the three of us pushing through the crowd to get to the end of the street, my boots sliding on the slippery, wet ground.

We reached the car quickly, Will shielding me from the brunt of the crowd, and as we approached the others, I squeezed out some of the water in my skirt, hoping that was enough to make a good impression. Unfortunately, the only person by the car was a guy, his cold, grey eyes studying the ground, utterly disinterested. I recognised him as Theo, a relatively quiet boy from some of my classes. He had a tight-knit group of friends, and rarely spoke to anyone outside of the group, more out of choice than social isolation. He almost seemed to think as though he was above us all, superior, in some way. People inexplicably liked him though, so I tried to suppress my scowl towards him. He must've had some redeemable qualities, right? It was just that barely anyone ever saw them. Still, that didn't mean that I needed to afford him anything more than the same coldness he showed everyone else.