Some Place Better Than Here

Chapter 27: Smells Like Teen Spirit

The long wet grass slid across my ankles as I skidded, freezing into a standstill. In a sober state of mind, I would have just kept walking, but drunk and high Mary thought that if she froze they wouldn't notice her. But it was too late. I heard Tanner and Fat Jordan mumble something, and then Tanner said:

"Where's your queer boyfriend?"

Now, I get it. One would think that in the presence of a new girlfriend (side-hoe, hookup, whatever), you would leave your ex alone. Especially if the new hoe was a major downgrade. Like, bitches be crazy, right? You'd think she'd start punching his chest when he even dared to look at me.

"Huh, Mary?" Tanner said, and then his voice took on a sudden threatening tone. "I've been meaning to fuck that kid up."

All three of them, much taller than me, stared down as though I were the one they were about to beat up. Derbs, the only true tough one in the Crew, standing next to Tanner like a pillar, flexed his long arms locked at the elbows.

The Crew had been a nuisance in my life since the tenth grade. Always causing more shit than they were worth, always too friendly to make enemies with anyone they could. Derbie picking fights with kids from different high schools (for no reason), resulting in a season of someone getting hurt, someone's windows getting smashed, so the Impala getting keyed. One battle after another. From fifteen to nineteen, and easy to bet that well into and after their twenties, these guys would not change.

"I told you, Tanner, not to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to your retarded ass. I just have a big wad of spit for your face."

"And I'll call the police."

"How was sleeping with some rich kid for money?" Tanner said, making the Crew laugh. In his high, slimy voice, Fat Jordan mumbled, "The rich bitch."

Tanner then continued, "You thought you were all top shit, huh? Now where is he? He got what he wanted and dumped your slutty ass? Serves you right for being a gold-digging whore."

In the younger days of one born with female genitalia, promiscuous accusations may be one of the most shocking and upsetting things you can hear. Then, you grow up and realize that men are actually just too dumb to think of anything else to say.

Tanner then abruptly broke away from the Crew and stomped up right in front of me. I then lunged out to the left, trying to get away, but he bolted to stand in my way, not allowing it. Every time I dashed to break away he continued to block my path, all the while reprehending me.

"Remember, Mary, no matter what you do in life, you're trash. Worthless trash, and you'll always be trash, like your fucked up family. I can't tell you how happy I am for getting the fuck away from your life. Go admit yourself and your dad to the same mental ward, you lunatic."

My neck muscles stiffened as I looked up and stared him right in the face. An overwhelming strength that could only have come from a determined drunk mind weighed any tears down. Tanner's face flickered with a hint of weakness. Maybe even he realized that any and all emotional power he'd once held over me was gone. His habit of provoking me via my family was getting old. He wasn't deserving of my spit in his face. I would never enable him to spit back at me, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Staring him deep in the eyes, giving him nothing; not a parcel of any emotion other than deep indifference, I lifted my hand up from my waist, softly landed my fingers on his chest, and then with a gentle force, pushed him aside. Compliantly stepping back, Tanner moved out of my way, and I walked forward. A self-satisfying glory pumped through me. No one, nothing, would ever break me again. It felt good knowing that somewhere along the way I had matured; I was stronger than before.