The Whisper Between Words: Chapter 2

Throughout the day, I drift in and out of thought in school. He won't leave my mind. The boy with no name, as Victoria calls him. I ended up telling her about him a little bit into theatre. She giggles and won't stop prodding into more than the vague details I gave her.

"Corvus!" she begs, tugging at my sleeve. "You've gotta give me more details! How old did he look? What was he wearing? Jesus, at least tell me what his eye color was!" She squeals in anticipation as I attempt to calm her down.

"Look, it's not that big of a deal. He looked like a boy with blonde hair. Maybe brown eyes, something dark. He looked around seventeen, or maybe a bit older. He was wearing a jacket and some jeans I think." I feed her unhealthy obsession with my knowledge of him

Victoria grins slyly as she imagines him, her hands fiddling through her pocket for a candy. "He sounds like someone my type. Did he say anything?" She finds her guilty pleasure, saltwater taffy, and offers me a piece though I deny, trying to keep the peppermint taste still in my mouth.

I pull back the remainder of information that stuck with me. His voice was deep but sweet, like a dark chocolate cake with a honey glaze. I nod quietly at her.

"Yeah..." My voice has a dreamy tone to it, I'm guessing because Victoria is already prodding again.

"Oh, so was he even more handsome than I thought. Especially if you, the almighty asexual goddess, finds him attractive."

I nudge her in an attempt to silence her "It's a nice voice, but I definitely can't recreate it."

She huffs, and throws back a long river of hair. "Just like, tell me what it sounded like. Describe it to me, y'know like you like doing."

My eyes gaze at hers, and I look back up at the ceiling. "You know what honey tastes like? It was smooth, and sweet, kinda like that. But at the same time it was gravelly, like sand..." I slip back into my head, listening to his voice again. It was milky and sweet, reminding me of those kinds of actors voices, or the cute audio book boys voices. Not super old, yet not super young. Victoria begins walking to the school parking lot, the skies having cleared up.

"So, he sounds like a white Morgan Freedman." She finds my car easily and waits patiently with her hand on the latch.

"Hehe, not really. More like... a cake. Like a chocolate cake... With cream cheese frosting." I unlock the car and inhale the scent of tobacco as it swirls inside my nose. I scrunch it up, trying to look disgusted, despite not being affected by the smell at all. Vic opens her door and scrunches her nose, actually affected by the overpowering scent of cigarettes.

"It still smells rank in here. Get some air freshener or something, make this horrible scent go away." She presses the neck of her shirt to her nose, trying to block out the smell. I nod and open the windows as we begin driving to her house. Vic pulls her head out the window and smells the fresh air instead of my sweet stained tobacco walls.

I turn on the CD player and her mix-tape sings into the half-fresh, half-tainted air. Vic smiles and begins singing along, bringing her hair over her shoulder and swaying her head from side to side to the beat. "Lace up your shoes! Ey oh, ey oh! Here's how we do!" She sings and points to me, motioning me to sing the chorus. I smile and follow her lead with the chorus to Check Yes Juliet.



It's been our song since the eighth grade. We bonded over our choir fascination and our love of music. I remember her being an eighth grader too, still beautiful and still amazingly charming. Her brown eyes hidden behind purple contact lenses, claiming she had Alexandria's Genesis. I remember hating her slightly, being envious of her life, her sweet voice, and everything she did in true honesty. While she was popular and amazing, I was a soft spoken emo kid, stuck in the corner wearing only black clothes and pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail while a large section still stuck out covering a good portion of my left eye, making me halfway blind throughout all of the entire two years of my middle school career.

I remember sitting in my seminar class, with a grey shirt and black jeans, earphones blaring Check Yes Juliet so loud the kids across the room could hear it. She had come in for a minute to talk to my teacher about any extra credit work while I had my nose buried in my favorite book; Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. She was wearing a knee-length baby blue dress, with her bangs pulled back by a pink bow shaped barrette. I guess she was unsurprisingly able to hear my music playing loudly and once she had finished talking to my teacher, she tapped my shoulder. I had pulled one of the buds out and she was grinning widely at me. I glowered slightly, though I was still slightly flabbergasted that such a beautiful girl decided to talk to me.

"What?"  I grumbled, a couple concerned eyes looking at Victoria worriedly as she smiled at me.

"Is that We The Kings?" She asked sweetly, almost naively.

"Yeah," I huffed at her "What of it?" Now every student started whispering and gossiping amongst themselves, eyes darting between us and their small group of friends. Even the teacher looked concerned.

"I love We The Kings!" She exclaimed, making me jolt back slightly. "Do you like Fall Out Boy too?" she asked again, even more excited.

"Uh... y-yeah." I stuttered and she squealed even louder, groping my hands

"Oh thats awesome! Hey d'you wanna hang out with me during lunch?" Her eyes had lit up so quickly and so brightly it made everyone a bit concerned. I nodded to her inquiry and she squeezed my hands.

"Your name is Corvus, right? I'm Victoria! I'll see you later, okay?" She rushed out giddily and I sat there, confused and dazed. Excited girls ran up to me, their eyes lighting up as they bombarded me with questions about how I knew her that I couldn't answer.

As the day continued on I did actually decide to hang out with her, finding her inside the cafeteria with a posse of cute girls and handsome boys. I shyly stood off the the side before she called me over with enthusiasm. Her friends chattered amongst themselves, sending me odd looks. Their primp and precious handbags and backpacks bedazzled in diamonds and ruby's bought with daddy's credit card made me sneer slightly as I sat beside Victoria. She began a conversation with me about my favorite kind of music. We talked and talked until our lunch hour had finally ended.

She had given me another smile and shimmied off with her middle school hubby to her next class. I started off to my next class as her friends smirked at me, pushing me into the lockers. I already hated them and they just gave me more reason to hate. Victoria and I had become friends over those past few weeks, her friends slowly despising me less and less.

Though I'm not still friends with all of them—splitting our separate ways and finding different people—I was glad I was able to have at least a few friends in my middle school life.



I drive through Victorias suburbia, white picket fenced neighborhood, searching for her house through the thicket of identical homes with identical families.

"Awe," She cries "We're going to my house?"

"Uh-huh." I nod, still glossing over the rest of the nice houses. I reach hers—a creamy two-story house with a large front yard and a small flower garden by the sidewalk—on the left and pull over, parking my car in front of it. Her lovely brown eyes meet mine, with a puppy-dogesque trying to guilt trip me into turning around and driving to my ghetto home. I take the keys out of the ignition and open my door, "You can't make me feel bad any more, Vic." Stepping out and shutting the door, she follows in a mopey fashion.

"You're so cruel Corvus..." She huffs crossing her arms and hanging her head low. I smile and wait by the front door.

"We went to my house last week. You can't like my home that much. Its ghetto-y and all dirty and such."

"It feels more homey than my home. It has more character."

"Character meaning someone might've died in it before we moved into it a couple years ago."

Victoria pauses and then nods, "Yeah, pretty much."

She pushes her key into the lock and twists it, opening the door. Inside is a large living room, with a TV hung above a wood burning fire place, a leather couch staring at it from across the room. A coffee table sat neatly in front of it, with an arrangement of hydrangeas and babys' breath in a large clear vase centered upon the coffee table.

I'm greeted by the sweet face of Mrs. Metting. Her sweet 48 year old aging face with smile wrinkles that show off her lovely maturity. Her hazel eyes glimmer in the receding day light and fading red hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She's no taller than 5'5, and is a rather delicate, and lenient flower. She sends me and her daughter a kind and gentle grin.

"Hello girls," She coos stirring her tea on the couch "How was your day?"

Victoria sneers slightly and tosses her backpack to the side of the entrance way "Fine, Mom."

I smile back to her, "It was well, thank you Mrs. Metting. What about yours?"

She blushes and chuckles below her breath. "Please, Corvus. Call me Jen. And my day went very smoothly, thank you."

I nod and follow Victoria upstairs, bidding her mother farewell. Victoria pulls me into her room, past the hallway filled with her baby and childhood photos. Closing her poster covered door, she clicks on the television, flipping through to the cartoons. She has an average teenage bedroom. Room coated wall to wall with her art, posters of her favorite bands, a dresser covered in anarchic writing, a TV placed atop it, and a twin sized bed with blue pillows and huge Hello Kitty comforters.

"See what I mean? She's always prying into my life," Victoria pulls one of her pillows close to her body, crossing her legs on the messy bed. I drop my backpack to the side of her room, and lay back on her bed. "She's just being nice. She wants to know how your day is going, like a good mom."

Her eyes move back to the colorful cartoons on screen, her mind drifting off into her own fantasy, "What ever, you don't see the way I see so it's useless to try to make you." she mumbles quietly like a pouting child.

I pull out a sheet of Geometry homework and scrawl down the answers, hurriedly reviewing the question and revising my answers accordingly. We might be friends, but she and I do fight on a semi-average basis. Its usually about something stupid, but it always ends in one of us giving in and making up over junk food and binge watching Hulu.

I spend a couple more hours over there, bringing some Sour Patch Kids and cinnamon bears up to her room and bonding over South Park. The sky darkens quicker than usual and my mom calls my phone.

"Where are you? Its six already, get home soon," She pushes angrily.

"I'll be home in 15," I reply with a sigh. Victoria looks helplessly at me as I end the call.

"You have to go home now? Why not five more minutes?" She whines childishly. I pat her head like a little puppy and smile.

"Because my moms rule is law, and I can't break the law,"

"Tell Linda I say hi when you get home, okay? Oh and don't forget to pet your cat for me!"

"It's not my cat, it's a stray that just sometimes comes over and eats whatever food I give him." I sling my backpack over my shoulders and trot downstairs. Victoria yells from her bedroom, "Bye cutie!"

I respond sweetly back to her "Sayonara my beautiful!" As I being running down the stairs, Jen sends me another delicate smile. She looks up from her novella and cocks her head, "Off so soon? I would've been happy to let you stay the night." I smile, lingering on the thought of the last time I slept over here, though I shake my head.

"No, my mom insists I come home tonight. We have clean up work to do on the house, so its either I don't show up and I'm grounded for the next month, or I come home and I get to hang out with Victoria again," I slip on my rainbow painted Vans and glance back up at her as she props a bookmark into her book, shutting it with a light thud.

"Oh well thats too bad. Tell your mother hello for me, and make sure to take care out there tonight. There are crazy people driving on the roads." She smiles even wider, making me feel even more compelled to stay.

"I will." I thank her again, and tell her goodnight, walking out into the breezy cold air. The door shuts behind me and the patio light is an uneasy yellow. I get into my car and start the ignition. As it warms up, the CD begins playing again, familiar songs with familiar beats help lighten the mood. Driving down the road, I relish in the scent of smokey cherry tobacco. It manages to boost my mood slightly, more that Jen or Victoria despite their unlimited kindness given to me.

I press on the gas, trying to get home fast enough so my mom doesn't scold me. As I enter my neighborhood, trash billows through the dusty navy sky, sickly specks of stars barely illuminating the moonless night. My headlights struggle to hold a hazy white on the road barely allowing me to see around the car. Scattered bums and homeless people silently hold their heads low and sleep while illegal trash fires burn close by. The rundown houses with chipping paint lay quietly in their humble trash and rat infested filth. Chain link fences hold back ravenous dogs waiting to sink their teeth into whoever draws too close. A few idle gang members walk the street with red and yellow bandanas wrapped around their arms marking their turf. Peoples screams are the glamorous songs outside the radio here. Yet Victoria's never seen that side of my home.

Pulling up into our small humble homes driveway, I stop the car. Before getting out and listening to my mom lecture me angrily again about curfew, I pull out one more cigarette.