Sweet sounds of distorted guitars played through her small, plastic speakers. Drums played a steady, simple beat and with a voice that could not be mistaken, the sound weaved through her room it brushed over her cluttered desk, danced across her tall standalone wardrobe and bounced off of her ‘off-white’ walls. A voice whispered into her ears, a familiar one. The brunette had grown accustomed to his voice, memorized it, and etched the lulling tones into her skull. Her brother would always listen to them; she guessed it was his coping mechanism.
“I wanna watch you bleed.” She sang along, smirking into the mirror of her small vanity. With a quick application of her lip balm, Dominique headed for the door.
“You’re always late.” The girl’s voice brought her back into the present, “You live so fucking close too.”
“Isn’t that always the case?” Dom had missed the first half hour of her class.
She let Farrah speak, let her drabble on about her weekend. The girl enjoyed the sound of her own voice. Truth be told, Dominique couldn’t care less about who she had hooked up with, and the endless comments and nagging that she “should have come” because it had been an excellent night or some shit like that. Shifting the weight of her bag, she continued walking, the blonde walking alongside her. Farrah had sat down quickly, dropping her books on the table that had been their table for years. Dominique mirrored the girls actions but with less harshness, with more fluidity in her movements. Dominique took her seat opposite the girl and relaxed. She let her muscles loosen and she shrug off her oversized denim jacket. She tugged at her short tunic, feeling slightly insecure now that they were in the courtyard. Dom breathed in, inhaling the air of the beautiful day, letting it suffocate her lungs. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun embrace her pale skin. For a second or two, she escaped. Flew away to another place, where everything was nice, simple, warm. A place where she was who she wanted to be, exactly what she wanted to be, and everything was perfect. Farrah’s voice shattered that world though, crashing it like it were a simple shard of glass.
“Dom, are you even fucking listening?” her face had contorted, she looked as though she might spit at her, like a mule might.
“Uh..yeah Fare-Fare.” She smiled at her, the corners of her lips turning upward. “You ended up jumping into the pool and everyone else followed.”
The blonde’s face changed for a second, flashing a somewhat confused face her way before contorting once more, this time she looked pleased, happy that the brunette had been listening after all. Her lips opened once more, carrying on with her tale of the party but Dom was easily distracted. Maybe it was just the way the girl had talked, the lulling sounds of her voice that could easily fly right over your head, either way, she caught sight of a boy. She knew his name, knew that he was trouble. Or at least that’s what people said. Tate Landon or something along those lines. Blonde, a few months younger than she. He mainly kept to himself but she guessed that rumors were more powerful than the obvious. She couldn’t help but stare at him, his dark clothes contrasting with everyone else around him. Dom bit down hard, wondering about him. She had a strange habit of making up wild stories about people she didn’t know, strangers in the mall or at school, her father’s friends, her brother’s. She imagined him to be nice, warm, welcoming. Maybe he had a secret passion for classical music? And then her mind muddled everything up, what if he was the polar opposite, full of hate, abusive, angry. Either way, he looked intriguing, this would be the third time she’d imagined a life for him, once he was s secret agent, another time, he had been a pirate on a ship, sailing the seas. Dom was strange, she knew that. She was just good at hiding it.