Karissa

Poor Thing (aaah - these Sweeney Todd songs translate so well to titling this!)

"Hi, McCutcheon!" Lavender squealed and hugged me, her perfect mouth a flawless ruby red that set off cheekbones high enough to give you vertigo. We were sort of friends from that one horrible year I caved to my dad's pressure and played football; she was a varsity cheerleader. Ages ago, I would have flipped – I would have died – being so close to her fabulous body, but now I'd grown out of my obsession. Sure, she was still unfathomably hot, but she was dating Jesse. There's no apology for bad taste.

"Hey, Blondie," I said in reply, tugging on her ponytail. Jesse stood a couple of inches away, rolling his eyes. He didn't exactly approve of our brother-sister type relationship, still afraid I was going to try to hook up with her because she was semi-famous and sexier than anything, but he trusted her and didn't protest.

"There you two are!"

He'd startled Dominic and Rosemary, who seemed embarrassed to be caught holding hands, even after a year of dating. I heard Karissa's sharp breath and remembered that while I was used to this practically seven-feet tall, exceptionally good-looking half-black Puerto Rican kid, who knocked girls over with his sparkling white smile and dark indigo eyes...she wasn't.

"Dominic!" Jesse almost squealed, and I reminded myself why I couldn't stand him, the top reason of many. Sanchez's ADHD had mellowed out, - and he'd never been that bad, really; his difficulties affected his academic performance more than anything social, most of the time - but Jesse was still jittery and hyper, an unintentionally obnoxious drama queen who never stopped talking faster than the highest-speed Internet unless you physically made him shut up. Even threatening to would sometimes work. I saw Sanchez giving me that cold stare he reserved for when he had to be in my presence, but we'd been dancing this dance for years now, and I glared right back, almost without thinking. He turned away, leaning against Rosemary casually, and glancing at an indistinguishable spot on the ceiling, asked, biting back a smile that couldn't help sliding onto his lips.

"Isn't that a room up there, over the pie shop? If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out? That should bring in something...."

(Oh, no. This was one of their musical moments. I should get out while I can.)

Her eyes widened.

"Up there? Oh, no one will go near it. People think it's haunted. You see, years ago, something happened up there, something...not very nice." Her voice was caught in that limbo between dialogue and song when Jesse halved it smoothly as something flashed in his eyes.

"Not that one. Besides, anything from Sweeney is my song." The remark, a clean sign of Jesse Beaumont's bossy streak, slashed across his personality like a scar to flaw it, stirred my annoyed hatred of him enough to make me speak without thinking.

"Hits too close to home for you, Beaumont?" Something had happened recently, like in the last year, and everyone (meaning even Jesse's friends) was fuzzy on the details. Last year was hard for all of us - we'd lost a friend - but we sensed this side of his suffering didn't come from grief. We weren't sure what occurred (but it was serious) and we weren't sure who to blame (though the remaining members of the foursome were pretty sure they could pinpoint a culprit), but we knew that an assault of some sort had taken place. You could see the change in Jesse. The overcoat of shame he always wore about his person was thicker. 

"Stop it, McCutcheon." Rosemary had quickly advanced, being uncomfortably close. I could smell her apple-scented hair, a thick auburn and tossed over one shoulder, feel her soft curves as she used her body to push me out of their circle...when had our former fat girl gotten so pretty? Her body still had that intimidating solidity to it; combined with her height, it gave her almost a regal quality – she was sexy and I couldn't ever admit it to anyone. I had a sudden desire to sleep with her, to stare into her piercing, light green eyes as her head lay next to mine on the pillow, to strip her of her lingerie. (Black was my guess, because it was slimming and she was self-conscious – we made her self-conscious - about her burdensome woman's body). It made me embarrassed, thinking about another girl (especially this girl) in front of Karissa, and considering her boyfriend was right there, too.... For once, I was glad to shut up.