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There she stood.
As scandalous as ever.
Her long black hair was straight. Her blue eyes were rimmed with black. Her white shorts were short enough and her summer top was cut low enough. The innocent pink color of it was not enough to camouflage its attention seeking message.
As she gracefully walked towards me every girl’s head in the room turned, face scowling and every boy’s eyes fallowed, lips seductively curling. She threw her stiff sun kissed arms around me, my right arm remained lifeless, and my left arm patted her softly on the back. She pulled back smiling revealing her perfectly straight pristine teeth. I bit my lip, how I wanted to turn my back right there and walk away. How I wanted to hold my head up high and ignore her presence. My mind fantasized snubbing her in front of every one, but I didn’t, and I never would.
I love her, I hate her.
I could feel every last pair of eyes on the two of us. I could hear every syllable muttered in a dull whisper by on lookers. She looked at me with her large doe eyes her composure intact. I knew that she felt the same way I did, but she refused to acknowledge it, in true Ebony fashion.
“Everybody is staring at us, do you feel that?” I question out loud to her. She looked at me, emotionless. I wonder whether I should have voiced my insecurity.
“I do. Like old times.” She smiled again, laughing mildly. She managed to look as if me and her were having the most intriguing conversation ever.
“Every girl hates you right now.” I said solemnly. I could sense the cattiness from the females in the room, even the ones who would never admit to even glancing in Ebony’s direction.
“Yet every boy wants me.” She winked, raising her eyebrows. Every movement she made was being scrutinized. She acted like she didn’t care. It was unbelievable. I could not bring myself to smile.
“Ha.” I finally choked out, it was half hearted and far from my regular obnoxious laugh.
We stood for a moment. Her hand on her hip, perfect posture. I felt angry. How could she come here? She was hated and she knew it. At the same time she thought she was loved. Who was she to believe what she wanted? We all knew who Ebony is, and we don’t intend to forget. She was the talk of the town, and the regret of the student body. She was loathed, but never self-loathing.
“Let’s get out of here.” She said putting her manicured hand on mine, and somehow entwining them in my own. I fought the urge to pull away, but I didn’t. I let my hand rest in hers. She looked at me, nodding towards the door. She smiled in a warming way, like she was welcoming an old friend. I looked into her eyes looking for anything.
Here I was, boarding the love hate roller coaster. Like I have time after time, every chance I get.
I couldn’t figure out why I let her lead me out the door. I felt like I was being taken against my will. Although, I was not. It was with my silent consent that we took our first steps towards the door while eyes watched and whispers fallowed. Her white shorts riding up and getting shorter with every step, her top swaying and pulling every inch.
I want to walk away and leave her, I do. But I won’t and I wouldn’t.