Emo Kids

by Melanie Ezell

 

Part I: Last Caress

 

Marcus wasn't gay. If he were, things would have been so much easier. Less confusing, for one thing. But he wasn't. It was true that Marcus liked men, and was only interested in how other girls looked out of jealousy, but then again, that was exactly the problem. It was normal for girls to like bous, it just wasn't normal for them to be trapped in the body of one.

As he sat at the lunck table, sipping his milk and pushing the unidentifiable yellow-brown lump that was supposedly Lasagna around on his tray, he began wondering, why him? Or, to be more accurate, why her? Had she done something in a past life that was so bad as to warrant this kind of a punishment? Maybe that was it, and this was just karmic retribution for not giving enough to charities or something. Or, as she thought was more likely, maybe God or whoever it was that was up there had one seriously fucked-up sense of humor, plus one hell of a sadistic streak. She-wait, he had to stop himself from thinking about this kind of thing. After all, it was the last day of schook, and he would have the entire summer to sulk.

Technically the Class of 2005 had gotten their diplomas a week earlier, but those of them who had missed too many days still had to show up in order to keep them. Due to a combination of being "manic-depressive" and having a weak immune system, this included Mrcus. Sometimes he felt that every Emo song ever written had been made just for him. All the Emo kids, with their makeup and slightly haunted expressions, boys and girls alike wearing clothes that mismatched and clashed in such a way to be oddly dissonant, yet beautiful. Trying so hard to be different, and only managing to make themselves that much more like everyone else. Upset by even the most menial things, they had no idea what it was like to truly suffer. As he cried no mascara would streak his face. His pillow, while stained by tears, would not have makeup on it. "Only fags wear makeup," as his dad James said, "and I ain't gonna have no faggots living in my house." That aside, oftentimes Rachel, his mom, would rush into Marcus's room at night to comfort him, and attempt to ease his sobs and cries, and only manage to calm him down enough to keep his father from trying more desperate measufes to shut him up. She was the only person in the entire world he had ever told of his problem, and while she didn't understand, nor pretend to, she loved Marcus and wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

Marcus might not dress Emo, but he most certainly lived it.

 

 

Part II: The Taste of Ink

 

Rather than riding the bus on the last day of school, Marcus had arranged for his best friend, Derek, to give him a ride home instead. It not only kept him from having to listen to all of the hicks on the bus discussing hunting tips or which one of the school sluts they planned to fuck that night, which was his official reason, but it also gave him a few precious moments alone with Derek. Derek, the misplaced surfer. Derek, his best, and in honesty, pretty much only true male friend. Derek, who s/he had crushed on since the seventh grade, but never told out of knowlege of rejection. Derek, the very model of tall, blonde, and handsome.

Enough daydreaming. If he didn't hurry, then he'd be left to catch the bus. If only s/he had been born female. As it was, it was better to have him as a friend than not at all.

He managed to reach Derek just as the loast bell began to ring. Marcus just had to laugh at the look of disgust on Derek's face as he got in his mom's little Geo. It was small, economical, and bright pink, none of which appealed to him in the slightest. Marcus just thought it was cute.

that was another thing his parents didn't understand. Why go to all the trouble to get your license, and then not use it? No matter how hard they tried, he kept firm in his belief that driving just wasn't for him. For one thing, even thinking about controlling something going faster than maybe twenty miles an hour scared him to death, and for another the care and upkeep of a vehicle would just be too much. So, to ease his parents up a bit, he had struck a deal with Derek: Derek would give Marcus rides anywhere he wanted to go, provided Marcus didn't need to go anywhere he wasn't already planning on heading towards. The arrangement worked, primarily because just about any place that Marcus had reason to go Derek could find an excuse for driving to, as long as a little "gas money" was supplied. Marcus knew that the "gas" usually turned out to equal "grass," but didn't mind as Derek was the safest driver he knew. Today's ride was free, as tomorrow was Derek's last day in Arkansas before heading back to Texas. It was the Thursday Marcus had been dreading for six weeks, and it was less than twelve hours away. No more Derek until Christmas was just plain cruel.

Maybe his summer job would help distract him, though he doubted it. He started the day after Derek was going to leave, and yet the only thing that ever came to his mind when he thought of his job was one word. Eww. Not because of his employers, they were family friends, or necessarily what he would be doing, cooking for Summer Camp Stormywoods at dinner. It was more the mere thought of having a job when his summer plans had originally consisted entirely of sitting around feeling sorry for himself, which seemed a much better use of his time. College was coming up just a few months away, and there was so much he needed to do before then. The money would be nice, but having no one other than his parents to drive him shopping pretty much ruined any chances he might have had to pick up anything like new underwear, or even a cute pair of jeans or something. Trying it with his dad in the store would not only be stupid, it would be absolute suicide. He could see just how that conversation would sound:

"Hey, son, found anything good?"

"Not really, dad. Nothing, actually, just some clothers for school is all."

"Ah. Wait a second, are those panties in your cart?"

"What? No, dad!"

"What the fuck! What are you, some kind of queer or something? No son of mine is gonna go prancing around like some kind of fairy in girl's underwear in my house, unless they want their ass beat ant thrown out in the street, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Then again, if Derek ever actually saw any of the things Marcus bought, he would probably strand him in the parking lot. But that was one of the good things about Derek: he loved to drive, but hated to shop, and would usually just stand outside whatever store Marcus dragged him to, and wouldn't care what was bought, so long as his gas was paid for. He never asked, and Marcus never volunteered the knowege of the contents of his bags.

Oh, well. It would only be for just over two months, and he needed to save the money for books or something anyways.

 

Coming soon: Parts III and IV!

  

  

  

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