No strings attatched

The Accidental Homewrecker

I roll over to investigate the chime from my mobile. Squinting, I stare intensively at the harsh glow radiating from the phone. Someone had apparently liked my post. I sigh. It's only about thirty likes. But how? Then the realisation gripped at my mind -maybe I had actually uploaded too often. Maybe I was even losing followers??.... Never. 

     A short exhale of annoyance escaped my lips.  I shift my focus to the string tied loosely around my pinky finger, and wiggled it as I gazed at the black acrylic nails that showed against the cool khaki of my skin. I bury myself in my covers, but the hope of sleep was dwindling, so I decide I could either: stalk potential suitors, or look at my own page. My eyes were glazed over as I tap on the small icon in the corner, and with extravagant motions of my hands, looked through my posts as the acrylics tapped noisily in a deafening silence. 

     There was me in Ibiza, arching my back as I strutted up stairs, my new hair, neatly braided into a mess of a blonde bun, me and James-

      A warm scarlet flood of light emitted from the string, as it heated up in temperature. Is this a sign? I don't really know, but all of a sudden, I feel instantly cheerier as I scroll excitedly through his account, smiling with his frozen grin, chuckling at inside jokes I never had a part in. Does Lisa and James have a couple derivative? I quizzed myself. Limes, Lasa, Lima, Jasa- not perfect, but Limes has a better ring. I giggle. He's only a block away, so it'll be easy to just tell him. I could imagine it, like a scene from a love story although it's snowing so I'll freeze my tits off waiting for a bloody announcement. I'll text him before I go then. Dork.  I peer outside my curtains. 

     The street below was shrouded with a veil of snow, with the uncommon car cautiously driving through at a snails pace. The light from them would spill into my room and leave like an uninvited guest. Specs of white would gather on my windowsill over the false flowers, the clumps gradually increasing in mass. I felt like a dragon as I stick my face outside; scarlet from the cold, exhaling wisps of smoke from my lips. I felt weary. Some part of me didn't want to go to James's house. It's cold. The prospect of daydreaming and scoffing down crisps at this time of night seemed more appealing than sitting outside a guys house for an hour in the snow.

     As I spin around to my bed, the string tightens and begins to pull me like a puppy on a leash. I did try to resist, but then I just got dragged along, stumbling down the stairs, skiddering Across the ice on the sidewalk, and practically flung around the street corners. But then I forget to breathe as I see the familiar grey door. I walk slower, and the string tugs more gently, almost as if it understood the situation. I skim my right hand over the snow shrouding the terrace, watching it glitter and I gasped gently at the sting of the cold. I step onto the shining marble steps and shelter under the doorway, warm and toasty. I knock.

     Before I could asses anything, the door opens and a girl is looking me in the face. For a second too long, she looks at me up and down, and I realise that I was still wearing my nightdress. The satin shimmered under the light. My feet are numb from walking barefoot. Then it hits me- is she his girlfriend? i felt like a homewrecker. My heart sinks, as I look ashamed to my string, tighter than ever, and pulsating in multiple colours. "What's that?" she asks, her eyes narrowing as she gazes at my hands also. My heart starts to patter. Does she not have one? I would ask, but it seems rude to ask. Maybe later.

     She was cute. Her hair was a nest of jet black curls. They were as dark as her eyes, which were were large and puffy, probably from being woken up at two in the morning. An eye mask could be noticed buried in her curls, and her caramel skin matched perfectly with her peachy lips, round and glistening from lip gloss. My cheeks warmed up as my heart began to race. I think I'm nervous. Probably because announcing to someone's girlfriend that they're not in fact the one has never turned out well. I swallow in fear.

"What?" Her eyes looked up at me in a challenging manner, as if I were in fact here to fight her. I try to speak, yet my mouth feels dry and my jaw refused to move. I sweat nervously. She stood there, leaning against the door, her dressing gown as white as the snow outside. Her hair fell in tumbling, frizzy waves, and All of a sudden a huge thump sounded from behind her, as if something heavy was dropped from the top of the stairs. She whipped around, alarmed, and I took note of the stretch marks trickling down her legs like tattoos. Her thundery dark eyes were illustrated with fear. 'JAMESSSSS?"

For a few seconds, the tension was thick like full fat cream. The silence felt like a storm building up to wails of distress. I didn't know what to do, as cold beads of sweat trickled down my forehead. Seconds felt like minutes.

I could hear the skidding of feet in the hallway.

"You NONCE!" The girl hollered, but she was smiling as she did so. I could feel my cheeks lift in a grin as well. It was infectious. James then appeared, stumbling and struggling, as he was pulled towards the doorway to me. He stopped a few inches from my face.

     His aqua eyes looked around with the comprehension of a baby. Basically, he looks like he's stupid. His nose was buttony, and round at the tip. His skin looked soft and glowed under the street light, dotted with amber freckles. His features were sharp, yet his cheeks looked fuller and like a child's, and his greasy brown hair curled down to his ears. In short, he looked hot.

"Lisa, what are you doing here?" He gasps. I take it that he was stupid. Rolling my eyes, I show him my string, as it untied itself to create a heart. He suddenly gave the dorkiest grin I have ever seen. Before I knew it, he had gripped my hips and lifted me up into the air in delight. His girlfriend let out a giggle. I could see her eyes were watery. I glance at her apologetically and she merely waved me off, and handed me a note. I pocket it.

He tilts his head, and strands of brown curls swing over his eyes. That was cute. "Wanna go on a date?" He questions, his eyes full of what seemed like empathy. I nod, looking up at him once he had let me down onto the ground . "Movie Night?" I smile.

"I get off my shift at eight" I reply. His shoulders, broad and toned under his tight shirt, become hunched as he finger guns at me with a snap. "I'll pick you up then." He closes the door as him and the girl walk back inside. I keep straight faced until I hear the latch close and I erupt into squeals of delight in an empty, and bloody freezing, road.