Killing Keats

Destroying Northanger Abbey

"I've found Morrissey's Achilles heel," Celia said as Imogen arrived that Monday afternoon. "If you sing Taylor Swift he loses it. I got a blank space baby and I'll write your name."

"Maybe it's the fact that you can't sing," he said, covering his ears.

"Where's your charm bracelet?" Imogen asked. 

Celia looked down at her wrists. She didn't wear bracelets so that had to mean..."Richard's out with a friend. He'll be here soon."

"You two look like you had fun last night," Morrissey said, pointing to her neck. 

"That's an actual bruise not a hickey."

"Why couldn't you two wait until Richard got here to start your hate-fest. He's a much better referee than I am," Imogen said.

Celia and Morrissey looked at each other and laughed. They had sorted out their confusing relationship when Imogen was ordering pizza the week before. 

"On the contrary dear Watson. We quite like each other due to the fact that we are completely honest with each other," Celia said.

"Why am I Watson?" Imogen asked. 

"You're too nice to be Holmes," Celia said.

Imogen was convinced that she and Celia would be intellectual equals. Though it was clear that Imogen had the social skills. She'd be Watson there was no point in thinking she was assertive enough to be anything else.

Imogen pulled out her copy Northanger Abbey. Celia saw the title. "I have a question. Who would you rather do, Mr Darcy or Mr Tilney?"

It felt like such a nerdy question but Imogen had her answer in five seconds. "Mr Tilney. Mr Darcy's a jerk."

"But if you compare him to Heathcliff or Mr Rochester, he's a saint," Morrissey said. 

Celia sat there with a stunned look marring her visage. She tried to say something semi intelligent. "I related to Catherine."

"I did too with the whole 'wanting to leave home and go some place else'. It's a shame that the book took so long to get interesting. I swear though, as soon as I finish my education I'm out of here. I need to be where everything's happening. Where I can have a fresh start. Where nobody knows who I am," Imogen said. 

"Take me with you," Morrissey said. 

"That'd defeat the purpose of new people," Celia said. Morrissey rolled his eyes. "I'm just calling out stupidity when I see it."

"Moving on...You know the one thing I hate about hanging out with you guys is that I feel like I'm in my mother's book club," Morrissey said.  

"You're just as intelligent as we are," Imogen said.

"Are you kidding me?" Celia said.

"Now we're taking the honesty a little too far," Morrissey said. 

Just as Morrissey was contemplating leaving, Richard arrived. He was holding cupcakes. What kind of friend was he meeting? Celia almost knocked him to the ground in order to get one of the cakes.

"I was going to offer," he said. 

She took one and lent back contently, peeling the wrapper back. Richard handed the container around. He sat next to Celia and noticed the bruise. He raised an eyebrow.

"My sister threw a book at me thinking I was her boyfriend," Celia explained. 

"I thought I heard something last night," Richard said.

Now that Richard was there Imogen began the destruction. She was started to get bored of the burning. There was no exhilaration like there had been. There would be one more to go. Keats. Keats would be worse than burning Salinger. Some English lit professor in university was going to hate her. 

"Well this is done," Imogen said. "See you guys later."

Morrissey hated grocery shopping. He especially hated it when his mother forced him to go to the local Woolworths with her. The shop seemed to go on forever. Maybe it was the agoraphobia kicking in but he feared Woolworths.

Imogen hated grocery shopping too. Her mother dragged her along, convinced that she wasn't out enough. 

Morrissey and Imogen hated meeting people they knew. Imagine the absolute horror when they bumped into each other. Imogen gave him a small wave which he returned. 

His mother found the need to leave him with the trolley. She ran over to Imogen. Imogen sent a distressed look at Morrissey. His mother let go of her and moved back to her son. She slipped ten dollars into his hand. He looked at her quizzically.

"Imogen my son keeps complaining about being here. Would you be a darling and take him to the cafe, feed him and babysit him?"

She ripped the ten dollars out of Morrissey's hand and gave it to Imogen. "Okay," Imogen said.

Imogen and Morrissey walked to the cafe across the road from Woolworths.

"I think my mother wants you to have my kids," Morrissey said.

"I like her."

"I'm glad someone does."

Imogen playfully pushed him. Until she knew his real name nothing remotely close to baby making would be happening. She was still afraid to touch his hair. It still defied gravity! 

They entered the cafe and Morrissey ordered. He and Imogen sat at one of the tables closest to the exit. 

It is an awkward first date, Morrissey thought. They sat in silence. Damn I never should have mentioned kids or my mother.

Their drinks eventually arrived which eased some of the tension. They sipped their drinks in silence. Imogen had babysat before but it had never been that awkward. Even the waitress psychoanalysing them (she was right when she picked up the anxiety and musician. All from the callouses on his fingers and her jittery legs), provided some relief.

Imogen's leg was shaking, an anxious habit. Her fist was clenched on the table top. Morrissey took her fist.

"Immy, it's okay," he said.

To prove it, he removed his headphone. He let it drop to the floor. He felt drowned in anxiety but he masked his fear well. She smiled a little. Results achieved!

"You know what I reckon you're really sweet but you hide it for who knows what reason," she said. 

Damn it. She'd worked him out. There was nothing left to lose. 

He lent over and kissed her chastely. "Don't tell anyone," he said before turning and leaving.

Imogen sat there stunned. That douche.

"I picked it!" the waitress cried.

A/N: Hey guys. Thanks for reading. Tell me what you think. Vote. Comment and follow.

Euphoria :)