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The only girl who was my style was Tom’s girlfriend, Jadie, who was gorgeous, with purple eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and a winning smile. She wore torn jeans and an oversized shirt, and still stood out with her raw beauty.
Tom—the vocalist for Ryan and Alex’s band—was also the kind of person you couldn’t miss. He was one of those guys who didn’t look good per se, but was still attractive. The sex appeal was in the way he carried himself. Kind of like Adam Driver. Super tall. Super thick voice. If you saw him in a lineup, you would never guess you’d want to ride his face, but give him five minutes to charm you, and, well, his ears would be ringing from your thighs through the next weekend.
They made an oddly sweet couple, Tom and Jadie, and I immediately liked both of them.
We were just waiting for the demonstration to start (side note: if everyone is there, and the signs are there, and the police is there, and the guy with the megaphone is there, and the geese are there, hadn’t the demonstration technically already started?).
Jadie asked me where I was from, questioned me about Ryan to see if there was something between us, and I slammed that idea down pretty quickly and efficiently, grateful that Ryan scurried with Tom and Alex to the other side of the lot, along with some other guys, where they smoked cigarettes and dutifully looked like they were carrying the burden of all the sinners in the world on their pimply shoulders.
“So, you’re single then.” Jadie concluded. There were other girls around us, but I got the feeling they were going to talk to one another exclusively and not let me take part. I got it. I was a newbie. The alpha-female was the one who would welcome me. Sniff under my tail to see if I was fit. And that person was the quintessential Jadie.
Jadie, who was beautiful, accomplished, dated the hottest guy in the punk rock scene they were a part of, and—this I found out during our brief conversation—also came from money. A lot of money.
Her dad was the CEO of a company who imported frozen goods and distributed them to supermarkets.
Including meat and poultry.
Yup. Shit doesn’t get any better than this, folks.
Before I knew it, the demonstration started.
Gang, I don’t even know what to tell you about what happened during the demonstration. I don’t remember much of it. I do remember that at some point, things got a little heated and there was shoving involved. I was well and far away from said shoving, but the fact that police officers and demonstrators were going at it made my tummy ache.
Or maybe it was all the salad I shoveled into my mouth.
Gosh, vegetarianism sucked. Veganism was going to suck even harder.
“Okay, time to bail.” Ryan popped out of nowhere, grabbed me by the hand, then ushered me to Alex’s Volvo by the elbow. I started running like my ass was on fire. Because even though I was all in when it came to stopping animal cruelty (still am), I was so not into getting punched in the face. Especially being anemic and all and eating mainly lettuce and bread all day. There was a real chance I was going to faint and never wake up.
Okay, there wasn’t, but I still didn’t want to get punched in the face.
Things were getting out of control. One protestor slapped a police officer, and the officer pounced on him. There were shouting and screaming everywhere. People pushing others around to see what was going on. Someone stumbled on top of me, and Ryan shielded me with his body so I wouldn’t fall.
“Where’s Alex?” Ryan asked.
“I have no idea,” I mumbled, looking for him frantically. And I do mean frantically. Because suddenly, all I wanted was to go home to my bed, MTV2, our fridge that was full of yummy things, my square parents, and even my annoying brother.
Then I spotted him. Alex.
He was perched against a chain-link fence, talking to one of the punk girls who’d ignored me earlier in the evening. She had a Chelsea hairstyle—super thick purple bangs with a bit of hair on the sides and a shaved head—and she wore fishnets and an oversized shirt as a dress. They shared a cigarette. She giggled at everything he said, leaning against him with her entire body.
I wanted to throw up.
I’d been jealous before, of course. Plenty of times. But not like this. Never like this.
My chest burned with anger.
My palms became sweaty.
I honestly would have keyed the hell out of Alex’s stupid Volvo if it wasn’t for the fact I needed a ride back (also, if my parents had to pay for my little revenge stunt, I would have been grounded into the next millennium).
