Toxic Us.

:E:

Kevin sat at the kitchen table weary eyed, his hair messy from sleeping on it and he wore yesterday's clothes. I sat across from him, pecking through a small fruit salad to make our mother happy. I knew I'd throw it up when I reached school; fruit seemed to have an untold disliking to my digestive system. All those acids brewing inside me like a witch's potion before coming up again.

"Kev - you alright - I mean you look fine it's just well you look kind of like our car when it has no fuel and it winds up broken down on the side of the highway" I grew anxious even around my own sibling, my mother and father were the only two I could manage a normal sentence too and even that was a struggle.

"I'm fine Eve, don't worry ok?" He placed his hand on my arm, bringing down the pulse raging inside of my weak body.

"Are you sure - you really, really seem overly mediocre at life today" I shrugged.

He laughed.

"I'll try to be sufficient enough for you tomorrow then" He grinned ear to ear.

I nodded.

Picking up my bowl and throwing the leftover contents into the dust bin a few meters away. I stumbled over a pair of tennis shoes that I still hadn't bothered to put away from the summer. Our mother wasn't strict on cleaning; as long as she didn't trip on them my wellbeing would remain fine.

Our mother drove us to school after that, the wind picked up skimming my face without the hood over the jeep. As we both sprung free from the icy clutches of the vehicle Kevin wandered over to his small friend group. They mostly contained overly instrument enthused boys, a girl sat with them playing a banjo like she was something straight out of a bad western movie.

It was odd how Kevin actually didn't own an instrument of his own; he'd just borrowed the others. He came home with a bass guitar one day and our father played it appallingly for three grueling hours.

I left them in the middle of the field to play their deranged version of music that was a collection of techno crap with the out of place banjo strumming in the background. Walking behind the back wall I sighed leaning on it before sitting down on the asphalt. The brick walls grooves clutching at my parka that acted like a pillow to soften the stone. I still felt the icy whip of the winds it stung my eyes almost bringing me to tears.

"Mcfly"

I sighed.

"Do you follow me - Curtis, or do you just well turn up every waking place I visit" I said, my eyes closed.

"That doesn't sound like she'd do anything for you Curtis" A vaguely British voice rang, chuckling deeply.

I opened my eyes turning to the left to see not a soul.

I blushed before turning to the right; Curtis saluted me with a single finger smiling his almond eyes creased at the sides. The boy sitting next to him nodded at me, hazel eyes squinting as they looked over me.

"This is Carmichael, feel free to ridicule him about his fucked name"

"How - did you're your parent's come up with that all by themselves?" I laughed.

"No actually they had help from a play, Jungle Fever" Curtis interjected and the light brown haired boy sighed, smoothing back small curls from his forehead.

"It sounds like a sex joke already, don't enlighten her sorry ears to the facts" After he spoke I nodded slightly, definitely British of some kind.

"His father is a perv" Curtis smirked.

"Yeah, that basically sums it up actually" Carmichael shrugged hitting Curtis in the shoulder.

"So do I call you that or do I - you know call you some odd foreign name that isn't your name at all?" I asked, my hands shaking but I buried them inside my coat. In the winter it was easier to hide the tremors that racked my small hands.

"You talk a lot for a quiet girl" He stated just as Curtis had.

"I know, I thought it was just me for a second. You know being fucked up and all can really screw with you head" He shrugged; lighting a cigarette before handing one to Carmichael who offered one to me.

"No" I scrunched up my nose looking away from the packet.

"Well shit I didn't no being you could have problems" He paused leaning in to my ear "He's actually not a bad guy, call me Mike"

I nodded, watching Curtis's face.

He had a strong jaw and soft eyes.

His eyebrows rose before he exhaled the smoke killing his lungs.

It was a pretty sight, grey whips of nicotine floated from between his rosy lips and up into the air. It was much more fluid compared to when Mike tried to achieve the same look. He wheezed and spluttered.

He looked like a child compared the air Curtis had, it was relaxed unlike Mike forcing the smoke away before he gagged.

I guess that was how they balanced each other out in the grand scheme of life. Mike was more prone to attract women, he was attractive and forward, and sadly the boy would always have to marry a girl that wasn't pretentious about his name being placed on their marriage certificate. Curtis was a boy next-door type, he was simple and then again wasn't.

I sat next to Mike watching him cough up a lung and Curtis just pat him on the back laughing. Then there was me, I was the offset of the balance. I was odd seemingly so then they appeared to be.

Yet they tolerated it.

It said it in their smiles, which they really didn't concern themselves with how I lived. They just let me be, sitting in the laughter content since it wasn't intricate or demanding. It was effortless.