Future Imperfect by K. Ryer Breese

Author:K. Ryer Breese
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: YA Science Fiction/Fantasy
ISBN: 9780312641511
Publisher: GRIFFIN
Published: 2011-04-15T05:00:00+00:00

FIVE

We sit in silence.

Far away a car backfires or someone is shot.

I turn to Vaux and put a hand on her knee. It’s gutsy but it feels right.

She doesn’t pull away.

I say, “I know that I love you.”

Vaux’s eyes don’t widen. Her lips don’t quiver. Her cheeks do flush, though. She says, “I don’t know what I can say to that, Ade.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want to say it.”

“Two years, huh?”

“Two.”

“And you’re sure I’m the girl. I mean you’ve never been mistaken before.”

“I’m sure.”

A tear forms in the crease of Vauxhall’s left eye. Just a bubble at first, but it spills over and down her cheek quickly. Just glides down. And I want to reach up and wipe it off with the softest part of my hand, but I don’t.

She lets the tear go. Says, “You don’t know how hard it is for me. To be me.”

“—”

Vaux clears her throat. More tears fall. “Do you want to know why I transferred here? Why I came to Mantlo?”

I ask, “Not for film?”

“Not just for film.”

Vaux stops there and cries. Openly. Tears pour down her face and spot her shirt and I sit watching, starting into her eyes. My hand still on her knee, I squeeze it. Vaux turns away. Wipes her face with the back of her hand and laughs.

Vaux says, “You won’t believe it, but I came here to quit.”

“Quit?”

“Like you did. Cold turkey. Abstinence. Hasn’t really worked, though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the—”

“You saw me at the party,” Vauxhall says. “I’m weak.”

“You’re not. Not at all.”

Vaux smiles, tears bending around her cheeks. “That’s sweet, but I am. I thought when I came to Mantlo that things would be different. Different people. Different scene. The pressure wouldn’t be there, you know? But it’s already started. I can just feel myself slipping back…”

“—”

“My last school, I was kind of run out,” Vaux says, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Not like you see in movies or anything. No pitchforks. No torches. It was psychological. Over time. Really, it was a small group of girls, just five bitches, but the principal wouldn’t take it seriously. Not the teachers either. Not the parents. No one tried to stop the name-calling. The torment. They called me ‘easy’ at first. Like that’s genteel. Didn’t last long because then it was ‘slut’ and ‘whore.’ Even my friends, people I went to school with since kindergarten, were saying horrible things about me. This is out loud. This is in the hallways they’re saying it. Shouting it. At a party, once, a group of guys tried to rape me. I’d avoid lines because inevitably some guy would try and grope me. They all acted pissed when I’d shout them off. They’d say, ‘Why so suddenly stuck-up?’ and ‘What sort of tease are you?’ I was going home crying every day. Not wanting anything to do with school. Sobbing on the bus to—”

Vaux closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath in.

I don’t know what to say.

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