I take out the tiny, plastic cup with filtered lid on top from inside my pocket and open the cap, setting the butterfly, which I meant to give her as a secret extra gift, free.

Why do I even try to change people’s perception of me? It’s a waste of time, so I’m done now. I won’t try to fight it anymore. Instead, I’ll just be who I’m supposed to be.

If you can’t beat them, join them.

***

Age 14

At times when Vanessa is not around, my heart feels like it’s turning to stone. I need friends, people to talk to, but everyone only listens to the rumors and then they’re scared of me before they’ve even talked to me. It’s like I don’t even get a chance. Just because I occasionally lash out at bullies. Is it so wrong to put your foot down and draw a line? I can’t help that people piss me off so much.

The only ones who will talk to me are the goths with their tats and piercings. They’re two years older than I am, but they offered me a smoke. I guess it’s their way to see if I want to belong to their group or not, and if I could fit in.

Soon, I’m spending most of my free time in their group, as Vanessa is growing more and more distant. I wonder if it’s because of the pressure her parents put on her. I don’t understand why she cares so much, but whatever. I guess achieving something is worth more than doing what you enjoy.

I’m standing at a corner around the building with the group, and they’re passing along a joint, so naturally I take it, too. I want to know what it’s like, and there’s no harm in trying it out. It’s not like I’ll get addicted after one whiff.

As I take a breath, I cough immediately, and the guys all laugh. I quickly hand the joint to one of my friends, whose piercings make him look tough. The way he takes a drag, standing tall like nothing affects him, makes me admire him. Maybe I should think about getting some piercings and tattoos, too. I’m already deemed a dangerous guy without them, so might as well fit in with the crowd.

When the second round of smoking comes, a few people walk by the gate, and I try to hide the joint in my jacket. Too late, though. Vanessa is walking by, and her jaw just dropped.

She stampedes toward me and then stops right in front of me as I stare her down. “What are you doing?” she asks.

The guys begin to laugh, so I grab her by the arms and push her forward so I can talk privately. “Not now, okay?”

“Yes, now. Is that … a joint?”

“Yes, it is,” I say, tucking it further into my pocket until only the bud is visible, so it won’t burn a hole in my clothes. “But it’s none of your business.”

She frowns and makes a face. “Since when? Why do you do this?”

“Because I like it,” I say, shrugging. “Nothing wrong with that.”

She swipes my hand off her shoulder as if she thinks I’m dirty. “It’s wrong, Miles, and you know that. Since when did you become one of them?”

“I’m not. I’m just doing what I want.”

“Well, it’s not good for you,” she says, placing her hands on her side, as if she’s all that.

“I don’t need lecturing from you,” I hiss, leaning forward. “And in case you didn’t notice, they aren’t the nicest people, so I suggest you don’t go yelling across the yard what it is that we're doing here.”

“Or what?” Her eyes narrow. “Are you threatening me now?”

“No, I’m simply trying to warn you,” I say, looking into both her eyes. “They’re dangerous.”

“That’s what they said about you, too, and yet I know better.” She swallows. “And so do you.”

I sigh, feeling worse than I already did just from the disappointed look on her face. I hate feeling this way … like I’m useless, like I’m doing everything wrong. “Maybe I don’t want to know better.”

She shakes her head, mumbling, “Never mind.”

And then she turns around and strides away on those high heels of hers, pissing me off. Why in the hell is she running away from me? It’s as if she’s so mad that she doesn’t think I’m even worth talking to. Fuck.

I jog after her and grab her arm, but she jerks loose, shoving me away. “Let me go.”

“No, I wanna talk.”

“You made your point,” she says. “I won’t bother you anymore.” She turns to walk again.

“No, wait!” I stand in her way and say, “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Why not? You’re doing the same thing.”

I frown. “I’m not walking away from anything.”

She places her finger on my chest, tapping on the place where my heart is. “You’re walking away from the right thing, and what you’re doing now … that isn’t it.”

I grab her hand and pull, causing her to step closer. “They’re my only friends, Vanessa. You can’t ask me to ditch them. That isn’t right, either.”

“You’re hanging out with the wrong crowd. They’re not your friends. Not good ones, anyway.” She looks up at me, tucking her brown curls behind her ears, and for the first time, I feel something more than just happiness when I see her. I feel anger … frustration … need.

Something wells up inside me, something primal, but I push it away because it feels bad.

“Then what should I do? Stay alone forever? Have no friends at all? Since I’m labeled as a piece of shit, they’re the only ones who’ll have me. In case you didn’t notice, I didn’t start out as well as you did.”

She makes a face. “That’s a low blow, and you know it. How dare you.” Her eyes are getting watery, and my muscles clench from seeing her hurt. “I thought I was your friend. But I guess that’s not enough for you.”

She tries to turn and walk away again, but I grab both her arms and shove her up against the wall with everything I have. I growl and breathe out loud, trying to calm myself down. All the pent-up rage is coming out as she’s cowering underneath me; her petite frame is easy to keep in place. Her chest rises with each breath she takes, directing all attention toward her ample tits, which have grown so big out of nowhere.

How did she get so attractive all of the sudden?

It’s like I never noticed how beautiful she actually is.

“You’re scaring me,” she says with a high-pitched voice, which alerts all my senses.

I lean in further, mesmerized by her sparkling eyes and her pink, parted lips. They make me want to touch her in ways I’ve never thought of before. The closer I move, the more she shivers, and everything in this world disappears except us. I can’t take my mind off her and off what she does to me. She stirs something inside me, something I’ve never felt before, but I want it. I need it. I have to have it.

So I hover close to her lips, waiting for her to push me away. I expect her to. She hates me for what I did, despises me for picking the wrong thing. And yet, she still lets me brush her lips with mine. Just that warm breath, the touch of her lips, drives me insane, to the point of me smashing my mouth onto hers in full force.

I’ve never kissed a girl before, but fuck, it feels good. It’s everything I expected and more. So much more, that I just can’t get enough. I kiss her softly, trying to feel my way to what she wants and likes. I want her to feel me, to see the real me. I want her to like me again … and I want her happy. This is the only way I know how to fix what I’ve broken. Us.

When our kiss ends, I feel like I should’ve done this a long time ago. She takes her lips off mine and blinks a couple of times, probably a little shaken.

I smile. “You are enough for me.”

Her head turns toward the sound next to us. There are girls looking at us, giggling, hiding their smiles behind their hands. Her eyes widen and her lips part. “Shit.”

“What?” I say.

She unlatches herself from my arms and pushes me aside. “I have to go.”

“What? Now?” I say, trying to hold onto her hand.

But the more I pull, the more she runs. “I can’t …” she mutters, and then she directs her attention toward the girls. “Please, don’t tell anyone,” she begs them.