Blink

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Punk Girl


Al doesn't want to get all girly for the rock show, but his friend Michelle insists. Are they both ready for the consequences?

Blink
Melanie E.

-----

Newton’s Third Law states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

As such, it should have been no surprise to my friend Michelle when, after she suggested I wear one of her outfits for our night out, I promptly let out a terrified yelp and tried to hide in her closet.

“Come on, Al! It’ll be fun!” Michelle’s voice called, muffled by the door I held steadfastly shut.

“Fun?!” I scoffed from the safe darkness of the closet. “That’s what you said about the time we took your brother’s Vespa for a joy ride!”

“That was fun!”

“Says you! I still owe him 80 bucks for the damages.”

“Al!” She cried, in that whine that implied I was the one being unreasonable. “Leslie told me that Ted’s gonna be there, and you know I’ve been trying to get his attention forever, and it’s NOT gonna happen if I show up with another guy.”

“Then go without me!” I threw back, tucking myself further back into the floral-scented safety of my hidey-hole.

I expected an immediate snarky response. Instead, I got silence that lasted just long enough to start worrying me.

“Michelle?”

More silence, punctuated by the telltale ping of texts flying back and forth.

Shit.

“’Chelle, if you’re posting those bunny costume pics then I swear to God I’ll--”

“Isaac’s gonna be there too.”

I choked on the words that were halfway out of my mouth, instead letting out a strained gurgle before getting my voice back under control. “So?”

“So?” She asked back, in a playful tone. Even with the door closed, I could see her in my mind’s eye, standing just outside it with her hands clasped behind her back and rocking side to side. The teasing smirk went without saying.

“No.”

“But he really liked you when--”

“NO.”

“—and you were so flirting with him when we ran into him when--”

“NO!”

“—And Leslie told me he was really looking forward to seeing you tonight and--”

“GAH!” I cried, throwing the door open and marching toward Michelle. “Gimme the phone, ‘Chelle.”

“Nope!” She crowed, dancing away from me and hopping up to stand on her bed, holding the phone overhead. “And I already told Les to let everyone know Allie was coming tonight.”

“...You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Double shit.

“So?” She asked again, waggling her eyebrows mischievously.

-----

“You’re always so slow with your eyeliner,” Michelle griped from behind me as I carefully drew the pencil across my upper lid.

“Yeah, well, we coulda left almost an hour ago if you’d let me wear my boy clothes.”

“But you look so much better like this!”

I pouted into the mirror, but with the purple lips and stark makeup all it did was prove her point.

Finishing my eyeliner, I stepped back and did a quick assessment of the damage.

I’d discarded my boy’s jeans and hoodie, and in their place I was wearing a pair of cuffed, purple denim shorts over fishnets and two tank tops, a tighter black one underneath a baggy white one made from an old Hollywood Undead tee we’d stolen from Michelle’s dad a couple of years earlier. I’d used some of her spray-in hair color to add purple tips to my hair and finger-brushed the results into a shaggy but cute pixie-cut-ish look. It was a pretty close match to Michelle’s look, except she was wearing an old Def Leppard tee and black shorts, a better match for her long dark hair.

I was still wearing my own boots, though, a pair of scuffed Demonias I’d inherited from Leslie when she’d outgrown them.

With a few cheap “silver” costume jewelry pieces tossed into the mix, I looked like any of the rest of our girlfriends who would be at the show that night.

I whimpered just a little, really not looking forward to what that meant.

“Oh, come on! You’ve always had fun when we’ve done this kind of thing in the past!”

“Yeah, but--”

“And nobody’s gonna give you any shit, you know that.”

“I know, but--”

“And if you don’t get Isaac now, then some other girl might--”

“MICHELLE!”

“WHAT?!”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, already exhausted beyond belief, and we hadn’t even left her room yet. “You win. I’m going. Just promise me that you won’t abandon me at the show, okay?”

“Have I ever?”

“Promise.”

Michelle laughed. “Alright, you got it. I, Michelle Blythe, do so solemnly swear not to abandon one Allie Reagan to the wolves.”

“Thank you.”

“Unless Ted wants to--”

“HEY!”

“All right, all right, all right! Geez.”

I let out a sigh of relief, but in the battle between Michelle’s flightiness and her sense of honor, I didn’t hold out much hope of a victory.

Screw it. If things went south, I’d get a ride home from Leslie, I guess.

“Let’s get this over with,” I mumbled, wincing only a bit at Michelle’s happy squeal.

-----

As was expected, the place was packed when we arrived. The Green Goblin wasn’t the biggest club in the world at the best of times, and being the only one in the city that allowed underaged clientele meant that it was always a standing-room-only ordeal any time they had a half-decent act coming in. I was of the opinion that tonight’s act – a semi-local ska-punk group called Darkslide – were maybe a third decent at best, but even then, they’d already moved half the tables out to make room for the larger-than-average crowd they expected to attend.

And there, right in the middle of the floor, were our friends.

Leslie and Demi were there, wearing outfits not all that different from what Michelle and I were. Leslie was a tall blonde, and Demi was a bit of a short stack, so they were both getting plenty of attention from the guys in the room, something they’d have lots of fun with later when they inevitably made out with each other in the middle of the floor just to mess with folks.

Standing not far away from them, and scanning the room, presumably in search of us, were Ted and Isaac.

Ted was decked out in his normal skinny jeans and ratty hoodie, half his face covered by his mane of shaggy ash-blond hair. He managed to stand out from the crowd purely by grace of literally standing out from the crowd, his nearly six-and-a-half-foot height being enough to get him on most sports teams with talent as a technicality if it weren’t for the fact that he was skinny enough he’d make a better bat than a baseball player. Even with the tiny bit of a slouch he always seemed to carry, he stood close to a head above almost everyone else in the room and was using that height to periscope around.

Isaac, on the other hand, looked more vampire than skater. He was over half a foot shorter than Ted, but with his straight black hair and what was honestly a pretty decent teenage attempt at a goatee, he liked to play at more of a Dave Navarro kind of look and pulled it off pretty well, I felt. Well enough to be getting plenty of attention from other girls in attendance, all of whom seemed displeased at his seeming lack of interest.

Both of their sets of eyes found us at the same time, probably in part thanks to Michelle’s frantic waving from our position near the entrance.

Both of them gave us – me -- huge smiles.

Whoo boy.

“Come on!”

I didn’t dare fight the gravitational forces at work as Michelle grabbed my hand and dragged me toward our friends. The room was loud with the sound of canned music blaring over the speaker system while the band set up combined with the inevitable noise of dozens of teens and young adults crowded together into a hot, dark space, fueled by hormones, caffeine, and a functional absence of adult supervision, but even so I could still hear my own heart pounding in my ears as we slid through the crowd.

All right, Allie. You got this.

I whimpered anyway.

It only took about half a song of pushing, pulling, and elbowing to reach our targets. Michelle went to say something, but I cut her off, hoping to keep things from getting too awkward.

“Ah, hey, guys! Michelle thought it’d be fun to drag me along, hope that’s okay. She was really hoping it’d make pairing off a bit easier, I think,” I added, with a sudden flash of inspiration.

“Oh? Oh, sure thing!” Ted said, giving a little nod and smiling at both of us.

“No problems here,” Isaac added, still with only a half-interested look at best, though I could see the slight uptick at the corners of his eyes that showed he was good with things.

“Well, then,” I said, cutting Michelle off again. I stepped forward and took Isaac’s arm. “Let’s dance, shall we?”

Without waiting for an answer, I led him just far enough out into the crowd to separate us from the others. Leslie gave me a bit of a confused look as we passed, but Demi just grinned evilly.

Sigh. Well, here goes.

We had about twenty minutes ‘til the band would start playing, which was enough time to get a couple of dances and a cooldown in before the main event, so I kept Isaac running as much as possible, and as far away from our friends as I could. Michelle could have her space, and I needed to have a talk with Isaac before--

The music cut off with a screech, causing a pained complaint to rise from the crowd.

Another screech followed shortly after, and that was followed by a reedy-voiced announcer. “Sorry folks, issue in the sound booth. It’s close enough to concert time that we’re gonna go ahead and take a bit of a break while the band finishes getting ready. Don’t forget. Sodas are buy-one-get-one at the counter if you show your student ID and no outside drinks or food in the club. Thank you.”

Shit.

I looked up into Isaac’s eyes, but before I could say anything, his hands were on my hips and pulling me in.

“Isaa-” I was cut off by his lips as he kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth and lapping up the words.

What the hell? I closed my eyes and raised my arms to his neck, holding on tightly and ignoring the occasional sound of disgust or amusement around us as I enjoyed the kiss.

All too soon, but not soon enough, he pulled himself up and away from me, grinning like a crazy person.

“That what you wanted?” He asked me.

“No. I mean, yes, but… listen. We need to talk before--”

“Wow, you two!” Michelle crowed, not nearly far enough away.

Double shit.

I turned my head, and there she was.

And standing next to her, a confused-looking Ted.

“Ah, hey!” I said back, looking worriedly between the two of them. “Um… sorry?”

“For what? This is great! You’ve got Isaac, and I get….” It was about that time that Michelle turned and looked at Ted.

Ted, who was spending every other beat either glaring at Isaac or looking at me like a puppy I’d just kicked.

“Ah, I wanna see if we can find a way backstage. Coming, Isaac?” I asked, not waiting for an answer as I began to drag him away from the other couple, who were now looking at each other with a mixture of emotions I didn’t want to try to suss out.

“Sure thing,” he said, following me happily.

Get out of earshot, get out of earshot, get out of--

“So you didn’t tell Michelle you made out with Ted last week, huh?” Isaac asked me. If the music had still been playing, it probably would have been quiet enough, but with voices still tuned to Rock Out, it was more than loud enough to carry back through the crowd and directly to Michelle’s ears.

I knew tonight was going to be a disaster.

“You bitch!” Were the last words I heard before we slipped into the back hallway.

END

-==-

NOTES:
Just a short, silly one-shot, as always brought over courtesy of the BCTS Patreon! I'd normally post something like this on a Friday, but we're gonna be doing gaming tomorrow, so thought I'd toss it out tonight just in case tomorrow's a little hectic :)

On Patreon there were a number of comments suggesting I should continue this. I felt it was perfectly complete as is, but I promised I'd see what folks here thought too, so if you want to see more with these characters, be sure to let me know.

As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!

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Comments

Continue...

RachelMnM's picture

Please... The dialog, tension, pace... Brilliantly done. Great little story on its own, but leaves ya hang'n with the, "You bitch!"

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

That's another vote for 'more' then :)

I DO have some very basic ideas for where I could take a sequel (or sequels,) I just didn't want to commit to something if there wasn't interest.

Melanie E.

Leslie

Leslie is the common spelling for the girl's name in the USA, unlike the UK usual.

Straight to add comment

My5InchFMHeels's picture

Skipped over the story/comments... for some reason this is givin me Deja Vu.... I'm sure I'll get around to the story, but may need to wait until the Deja Vu has worn off.

continue

Please continue it
You just left hanging and wanting more

I enjoyed it

Nuff said.

Oopsie

Dee Sylvan's picture

Did Allie fail to mention that little fact? Lol. Your UK quirks in spelling and language are quite helpful in finding the correct geographical setting for these stories. Please continue Mel, this story is off to a wonderful start…. :DD

DeeDee

UK quirks huh? :)

It's not the first time I've heard that, but it's been a while!

I'm actually from Arkansas (southern US,) but according to Joyce there are a lot of southern states that are very British in their spelling and language quirks (up until you hear it spoken!)

That said, this is definitely NOT set in the US south and Britain is a good a locale as any.

The response to the story has been positive enough, and enough in the affirmative for more, that I will likely add another part or two to this.

*hugs*

Melanie E.

No offense

Dee Sylvan's picture

I hope you didn't think I was criticizing UK lingo. I actually find stories written by my English sisters to be very enlightening. Visiting England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland is high on my bucket list and hopefully I'll still be able to golf at a decent level when I do. I hope I will be able to converse like a local also. lol Please keep on with this story Melanie. :DD

DeeDee

No worries!

*hugs*

Mellanie E.

“You bitch!”

giggles

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