The Shoebox Paradox

Story Three: More Of Thorne

Thorne had found me after school waiting in the school parking lot, looking completely and utterly lost. She made sure to point it out to me, telling me I looked like a sad, scared puppy, before laughing at her own joke. I went bright red, causing her to laugh even harder at me. If it had been any other person, I would have socked them right in the nose, but this was Thorne, and somehow I didn't get annoyed with her relentless teasing. In fact, I found myself laughing along with her. 

And that's how Thorne's brother found us. Both doubled over laughing, totally forgetting what it was that we were laughing about. 

"Hey, guys!" He called out through the window of his van, in a low, but not gruff voice. I looked up at him, wiping the tears out of my eyes. The van was a huge black mess of paint, covered with skulls, obviously hand painted. 

"I have to apologize for the car..." He said, "I bought it from a junkyard for the space inside. I haven't gotten around to fixing the...paint problem...I'm Nathan, by the way." He grinned, flashing bright white teeth. It was beginning to dawn on me that Thorne's parent must be models, as Thorne and her brother both shared the "movie star" gene. He had sandy blonde hair, a bit darker than his sisters', with natural streaks of  brown and dirty blonde. His green eyes sparkled like his sisters', but his sparkled with wisdom. He looked as if he could read everything about you with one glance. He made me uneasy, for a reason I couldn't understand. It was like I didn't want him looking at me, in fear of him finding something out about me that I didn't want him to know. 

I stood there dumbly for a few seconds before Thorne grabbed my hand and pulled me into the van. The backseat of Thorne's brother's van smelled like a mix of sweat, cigarettes, and another sour smell that I couldn't quite identify. Thorne sat next to me, her black combat boots resting against the headrest of the seat in front of her and she flipped a pen casually into the air. I sat in silence, as if I would screw everything up if I opened my mouth. Which, honestly, would most likely end up happening.

 And now there I was, sitting awkwardly in a hot girl's car, hoping desperately that she didn't think that the situation was as awkward as I did. It didn't look like she did, to my relief. In fact, she was chatting away with her brother about how her day went. 

"Oh my god. Remember that kid, Maxwell?" She asked him, the glint in her eye shimmering with mirth. 

"How could I not? He sent you 50 roses on the second day of school!" 

"Wait. What?" I cut into the conversation, unable to help myself. I regretted it at once. Did I say it wrong? Did it come out too harsh? Thorne turned to me. 

"That's a long story. Let's just say he has a bit of a crush on me." I sighed with relief. If it did, she didn't notice. I had to relax..it wasn't like this or anything...right? 

"A bit?!" Nathan laughed. "Right." 

"Anyways, Maxwell. He came up to me today and invited me-get this-on his father's yacht!" 

"No!" Nathan yelled from the front. 

"Yes!" Thorne replied. 

"Wait," I asked. "This Maxwell guy...he's gotta be rich." 

"Good one, Captain Obvious." Thorne said, rolling her eyes playfully. "His dad is Miles Rider. His mom is Kimberly Greene Rider. Ever heard of them?" 

Have I ever heard of them? Of course I had. Both Miles and Kim were massive celebrities, the owners of a gazillion of Oscars and the stars of countless Blockbuster movies. Maxwell Rider, their only son, was on the walls of every tween girl in America. He had been a singer when he was younger, but had since retired and had taken a full time job as "Young Teen Hunk Of The Year" It was those kinds of guys who disgusted me. Mostly because I could never get the same amount of attention from girls as him. I mean, he always seemed like a jerk to me. But he had a pretty face, and that's what matters to people in this world. 

"That guy goes to our school?" I was really out of things. You'd think I would have noticed someone like that. I really needed to be more observant. 

"Dude, where have you been?" Thorne asked. I shrugged just as Nathan pulled the abomination of a van into Thorne's house. Notice how I used the word: house. Because it was. A real house in Manhattan. Not only were houses in New York City rare, but also expensive. Like, millions of dollars. It was a big for a house...but not big enough to look like a million dollar house. In fact, it would be a normal priced house anywhere else. But this was New York, and everything was messed up here. 

"Here we are." She said. "Home sweet home." She hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. I stepped out too, or at least tried to. The van was a lot higher than I had realized, and I found myself falling out rather ungracefully. I had hoped Thorne hadn't noticed, but of course, she did. Her laughs rang out into the air, and didn't stop until we had gone inside her house and taken off our shoes. 

"Come on." She said, gesturing to me. Her house was modern. Black and white from floor to ceiling, it was absolutely immaculate, like a page out of a Home Improvement magazine. Art hung from the walls, and twisting black sculptures stood on the ground next to a glass coffee table in the center of the living room. 

"Dang." I said, under my breath. 

"It's awful, isn't it?" Nathan said. "There's no life. It's like a desolate graveyard of any emotion." 

"It's not that bad." I said, shrugging. It looked cool to me, actually. 

"Can you imagine living here? That's why I just stay in my room all the time. That's the only place in this whole house worth being in." Thorne said, from behind me. "In fact, let's go there right now and escape this place." She took my hand and led me upstairs. 

The upstairs hall looked like a different universe altogether. Clothing were scattered all over the floor, and there was crayon on the wall. 

"My little brother." She said, pointing at what looked like a grapefruit with teeth drawn on the wall. "His name is Harry. Nate and Harry share this hall." 

She pulled me up another, shorter flight of stairs into the attic. I emerged in a small space room. Thorne's bedroom. I'm in a girl's bedroom. I couldn't help but think, as she flopped onto her bed. 

"Alright. Pink Floyd. And....begin."