THIRTY-ONE - The Language of Leather

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Lincoln showed up at school today wearing his dad's old leather jacket from the 70s. It was black and kind of beaten up and covered with faded BSA, Norton, Triumph and Royal Enfield motorcycle badges. It also smelled very faintly of pipe tobacco. Apparently, Lincoln's dad was a "bit of a lad" in his day, or so the story goes. Lincoln said he doesn't see him much anymore, because he lives in the south of England, but he was pretty badass when he was younger, and used to hang out with Billy Idol and Sting in dingy London dive bars.

Anyway, Lincoln wore the jacket all day. He'd also styled his hair differently. I think he was going for a Harry Styles kind of look; he certainly used a lot of product. He must have spent at least an hour on it. Who has that kind of time in the morning?

I suppose the jacket was cool, but I was shocked to see Ivy swooning all over Lincoln during lunch hour like he was some kind of freaking vampire-movie-star-bad boy-dickwad. Scarlet was just as bad, but I expect that kind of shallow behaviour from her.  But, Ivy? I mean, wasn't she slow dancing with me all goo-goo eyed only two weeks ago?

I guess my mood was pretty dark, because after school, Ivy asked me what was wrong, and I said nothing, and she said, nothing, my ass. So, I just told her I thought Lincoln had taken the whole intuitive reading thing a bit too far, and that I felt a little sorry for him if he thought a hand-me-down leather motorcycle jacket could actually change his life.

Ivy said it wasn't the jacket that was so attractive; it was his new-found confidence that was hot. I guess I snorted or something because she kind of got a little hot under the collar and said I was being a bad friend, and the only reason I was bothered by it all was because I lacked confidence myself. Of course, I disagreed, but she just looked at me the way you would look at a toddler who was misbehaving, and then touched my arm in a very condescending way. She told me that is was okay, and not to worry about it because she knew that adolescence could be especially hard on boys.

What the actual f***?

When we got to the village, I lied and told her I had to meet my dad, but really, I just wanted to be alone. I waited until I was sure she was gone, and then I bought myself a bag of Doritos, and ate them angrily as I walked the rest of the way home.

Desmond and Snowflake were in the paddock when I got home, along with the new llama, who Misty had named Audrey, after some beautiful (now deceased) actress who had possessed a very long neck and well-defined eyebrows.

I leaned on the fence for a while, and watched Desmond and Snowflake posturing in front of Audrey. Desmond definitely had better hair, but Snowflake had exceptional fleece. In the end, Audrey grew bored with both of them, and went back into the barn, where "Moon River," a famous song from a movie called, Breakfast at Tiffany's (apparently one that the old actress, Audrey, had been in) had pretty much been playing on a loop for the past two days. (I was getting a little sick of it. Ten bucks Audrey was, too.)

I felt bad for Desmond and Snowflake. They just stood out in the middle of the paddock, looking perplexed and slightly agitated. Embarrassed, even. I told them it wasn't their fault; that I was learning that women were just unpredictable, but that things might be different tomorrow. They spoke llama to me, but I have no idea if they were thanking me for my gentle insights or telling me to fuck off. It's hard to know with even-toed ungulates.

I sauntered around the fence and went into Misty's barn, hoping that Norm might be working on a car or something, and might want to talk a little about guy stuff, but when I opened the door, I found my father and Misty slow dancing to the Moon River song. My dad had both of his hands on Misty's butt and Misty's hair was messy and had hay in it. Thing is, they didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. They just laughed and said there was absolutely nothing wrong with a little "afternoon delight." Then Dad looked at Misty and said, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, and she laughed like he had just cracked the best joke in the world.

After that, I went back to our cabin, ate an entire box of Captain Crunch cereal, and thought about how pathetic it is that my forty-four-year old balding father is getting more action than I am.

I didn't even bother to talk to Peterson about my day today. I just didn't think I could face his little leather jacket.

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