Long Live the Queen

Eight: Spiderman and Alpha

HOBBES

She came back at exactly the stroke of nine at night, her hair slightly parted to the side from wearing the hoodie she preferred to wear when she went out. Her eyes seemed to dart everywhere, avoiding my gaze until she sat down with her head in her hands, discarding the bags of her girly needs to the side, right on top of her magazines. I didn't say much, just watched her hair fall in front of her face as she remained quiet. I was about to scoot over and wrap her in a hug, but she raised her head, staring me in the eyes, her own seeming dull.

"Hobbes, is this the right thing to do?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, and I could've sworn she hadn't said it, because a moment later she was reassuring herself it was. It was, it was, it was. Over and over until I could see her beginning to stare into the distant memories. I inched closer to her until our faces were only an inch apart, and I could feel her clammy breath on my face.

"You're doing fine, we're doing fine. What they did, they deserved what they got. The bastards, they got what they-"

My reassurance to her was cut off by her lips pressing against mine with a passion that always came after these moments. I lived it up, feeling the heat of her lips mixing with mine and the sensation bubbled through my entire body until I was gripping her back and deepening the kiss. God, she was beautiful, her lips were beautiful, her face was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful and my hands were rising up her waist until she pulled away suddenly, making one into separate beings. I felt cold as we parted, missing already the kiss and her warmth and her beauty.

I was itching to kiss her more, my body wanting her to continue, but she turned away from me, lying down on her mattress that was covered in her comforter, her head turned so she stared across the warehouse. She didn't speak, and I let her be, giving her some time to herself while I went on the laptop, scrolling through social media.

I saw a direct message from Trevor, and as I opened it a picture of him with Braxton and Walt showed up, him showing off a new pipe, smoke billowing out as they were locked in space. He wished me a good visit with my mom and said I was missing out (I wasn't, and he knew that-- unless there were cigarettes), and I gave a good chuckle to myself as I thought of how jealous they'd be if they actually knew I was here.

I still couldn't believe that over a week ago we were talking about how hot Maia was, and how being a nerd maybe finally paid off, and now here I was, with her in close vicinity. I was loving it, and I know Maia was too, even if she did get her off days. But that's just normal things girls do, they're always so goddamn hormonal and shit. She'll get over the bad days, at least after we get revenge on the bastards who hurt her. I thank God none of my friends were there, or else I would've gone to their houses directly and beaten them up. No one hurts the hottest chick at school like that.

The moon shone through the broken windows that had been shattered ever since Vic and Max threw rocks and stones in here back a couple years ago. The warehouse used to be a popular place to hang out, with older kids making it a hangout until they graduated and the younger kids slowly made their way up. But then back maybe three years ago, Peter Selward and his group of buddies molotov'ed this place up. I don't think anyone died, but I know a couple of the people hanging out got pretty burned. Now it's abandoned, and that's a good thing, too, because otherwise we'd be in a lot of trouble. It's good it's also out of town and all, people only able to walk through the forest trails behind old Pockerd's farm, or drive up the old path to get here. Easy to locate people coming.

Anyway, an owl hooted from outside and I took a blank picture of the darkness with the laptop, sending it back to Trevor, captioning it, 'You wouldn't believe how great it is'. Not a lie, but unless he thought something was up, it seemed harmless. I liked my mom, I did. My little half-sister liked me, or at least the pancakes I made for Sunday breakfast when she was there with my mom. They were cool people, I supposed. I picked lint off my own comforter as no more news showed up.

There was nothing to do here. Really, aside from the endless mind-numbing status updates of 'getting my eyebrow pierced omg', or 'I just want a boyfriend who loves me for me #ugly #beauty #love #pretty', and aside from kissing the perfect lips of Maia DeRosa, there was absolutely nothing for me to do.

I settled for closing the laptop, setting it at the head of my mattress. Standing up, I took a few steps away from Maia and turned my back, changing into better clothes. Kicking my pants off, I heard Maia shuffle around.

"Hobbes, you better not be doing what I think you're doing. Maybe another time, yeah?"

"I'm literally changing my clothes, babe." I loved calling her that. From geek to cool in a week, I was now on 'babe' terms with the most popular girl at school. I slipped on track pants but lingered on putting on my shirt. I wasn't pasty, nor was I a stick-thin nerd who carried around textbooks for fun, and I knew she hadn't moved from her position, so I let her take in the view of my back until I finally put on a shirt and made my way back, grinning at Maia as I did.

She gave me a small, devilish smile, and I kicked my mattress so it moved near hers. I bent down, picking up my blanket, and made myself comfortable beside her. It wasn't late, and if Maia wanted to get up, she could, but I felt relaxed like this, my mind drifting off with thoughts of Maia, her hot breath lingering on my neck as her body was pushed near mine. What a fantastic life it was.