Theea
one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive
And I just wanna feel alive
I listen as we walk, eyes scanning the treeline for that soft wash of yellow I’m half-convinced I imagined. Calypso’s voice is easy to follow—light even when it dips into something heavier. I can feel how fresh it all still is, even if she’s trying to laugh it off. Fledgling lovers, maybe, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t real. I’d seen them at the party—the pull between them. The sting when it frayed.
“You know,” I murmur, lips twitching into something wry, “it’s kind of incredible how many girls I’ve talked to in the past month have said the exact same thing about boys.” I glance sideways at her, amused. “At this rate I’m thinking I should stay far, far away from boys altogether. Like, a full cautionary tale level of distance.”
A dry chuckle escapes me.
“Still... for all the drama, I actually had a really good time.” I nudge a bit of driftwood aside with my foot, eyes flicking back to the trees. “I don’t have a ton of friends. And I’m not… great at people. Like, at being around them. Or knowing what to say, or how not to be really fucking weird.” I shrug with my arms opening, hands still tucked in my jacket pockets. Self-aware but not self-pitying. “But I’m trying to learn. Second time drinking at the Hanged Man, and sometimes it feels like I'm reading one of those narrative books about nature and animal behavior in the wild."
I grin a little at the memory. “Jack made me a really good drink though. He’s always been kind to me, actually.” That still surprises me, though I don’t say it out loud. “And there was this woman—you-level beautiful, just grabbed me and looped me into your group like we’d been friends for years. And your brother was nice. It's still disorienting sometimes, to be included.”
I glance back at her and smile. “So yeah. Birthday party success. Especially since the party pooper got tossed out on his ass—metaphorically, anyway.”
“You know,” I murmur, lips twitching into something wry, “it’s kind of incredible how many girls I’ve talked to in the past month have said the exact same thing about boys.” I glance sideways at her, amused. “At this rate I’m thinking I should stay far, far away from boys altogether. Like, a full cautionary tale level of distance.”
A dry chuckle escapes me.
“Still... for all the drama, I actually had a really good time.” I nudge a bit of driftwood aside with my foot, eyes flicking back to the trees. “I don’t have a ton of friends. And I’m not… great at people. Like, at being around them. Or knowing what to say, or how not to be really fucking weird.” I shrug with my arms opening, hands still tucked in my jacket pockets. Self-aware but not self-pitying. “But I’m trying to learn. Second time drinking at the Hanged Man, and sometimes it feels like I'm reading one of those narrative books about nature and animal behavior in the wild."
I grin a little at the memory. “Jack made me a really good drink though. He’s always been kind to me, actually.” That still surprises me, though I don’t say it out loud. “And there was this woman—you-level beautiful, just grabbed me and looped me into your group like we’d been friends for years. And your brother was nice. It's still disorienting sometimes, to be included.”
I glance back at her and smile. “So yeah. Birthday party success. Especially since the party pooper got tossed out on his ass—metaphorically, anyway.”
look mama, i can fly
