Chapter 4
When the sun starts to set, I head back to the farmhouse.
Bee is putting on pretty pink lipstick that reminds me of cherry blossoms in the warm winds of spring. I meet her eyes in the mirror. She looks me up and down, from my sandy tracksuit bottoms to my chunky bomber jacket covered in patches. She raises an eyebrow at me.
"What?" I ask, twisting my body away from her. She wears black tights, a long sleeved grey shirt with a slim white dress over the top. Her cute red pumps look brand new, my converses have holes in them.
"How do you manage to look so homeless?" she asks me, turning her attention back to her reflection.
"Why are you so dressed up?" I retort, "Putting on a show for the cauliflowers?"
"I'm going to the saloon." she ties a white bow around her hair without meeting my gaze again.
"Why? isn't it just the town drunks and middle aged couples that go there?" But then I remember what Abigail said, it's the only place in town to hang out on a Friday evening. Would it be too much to show up at the saloon the same day she invited me? Would that be too eager?
"Some of us have a social life Bree. You should try it sometime, unless you don't think you can talk to people?"
"Wait for me," I say, slamming my bedroom door behind me as I go.
What does one wear to a saloon? Back in the city, I'd only go to a bar when my friends made me. Though, they eventually got tired of my panic attacks, leaving me uninvited instead. I didn't have many going out clothes then, I sure as hell don't now.
My clothes from the week litter the floor, among the odd coffee cups, mostly half full. I ran out of book shelf space last week when my shipment of old books from back home finally arrived. Now I have hazardous piles planted around the room. Can't forget the dead plant that still sits on my bedside table. I thought that maybe it was the Joja office air that killed it, that maybe some fresh Pelican Town air would do it some good. But it's still very dead, deep brown leafs scatter the dirt like fallen stars.
I have to hurry, I could see Bee getting impatient with me and leaving me behind; but I know that I won't step foot in that place without her. I can't. I open the door and everyone turns to look at me, then what? What would I do? Wave like a moron? No. I'd probably run away, continuing my legacy of that other farmer, not the pretty one who gets along with the whole town. No, the one who doesn't talk, doesn't really leave the rolling green of their farm. Don't get me wrong, moving here for the quiet life was the goal, but I can't keep being the lesser twin.
I spot a pair of fishnet tights under a yellow wellie. I pull it out and wipe the dried mud from it. Then I spot a dress hanging up in the wardrobe. One of the only things still hanging up in the wardrobe. The dress I only bought with me because my mother insisted that everyone needs a nice dress, no matter where they're going. I disregard the clothes I'm wearing into another pile on the floor (I'll sort this room out tomorrow, that's my plan) and pull on the fishnets, dragging the black dress over the top. It's probably the only slim fitting item of clothing I have. It reaches to just above my knees, which does make me self conscious but I don't exactly have many other choices. I put my bomber jacket back on over the top of the dress. It's comfort washes through me and I start to feel slightly more certain of myself. I put on eyeliner, black wings reaching to just below my eyebrows, and I think it might be over kill, but it's the only make up I like and the only make up I'm good at. My Lilac hair is ruffled and slightly sandy from where I fell asleep on the beach earlier. I shake it out the best I can, bringing my fringe back to my forehead. And finally, I put in my lucky duck earrings. With the ritual of getting ready over, the anxiety sneaks back into my chest. My room is cold, but heat creeps across my neck and face, shaking fingers against clammy palms. I take a deep breath. And another. I don't have to stay there long, just long enough to prove to my sister I can hold a conversation with someone other than the chickens. To prove to the town that I'm not a complete social recluse.
Gingerly, I open my bedroom door, eyes sweeping the living room with fear that my sister has left me. But she looks up from the sofa as I step into the living room. Her eyebrows raise again and I expect more teasing from her.
"Wow Bree, you can still wash up nicely," she says, standing up from the sofa and holds a hand out to me. I smile at her and take her hand, and it's like the sister I had before her heartbreak is back again. We leave the farmhouse hand in hand, stepping into the poorly lit cold air. My anxiety is still present, but Bee makes it a bit easier.
I expect Bee to drop my hand as soon as we get into town, but she doesn't. She holds my hand until we get to door of the saloon. She drops my hand and places her hands on my shoulders, turning me to face her.
"You don't have to push yourself. You can sit with me, Haley and Alex if you'd like to. Or you can sit with the other people our age. But if you need me, I'm here," She says, before dropping her hands from my shoulder and opening the old wooden door to saloon. People used to tell me that Bee babies me. But I never agreed with them. My sister, though we do bicker, knows me best. When you're a twin, you're always together when your younger, why make friends when you live with your best friend? Though, when you get older, you want to be as different as possible. We still share a look of ugh when we get referred to as "the twins." But even now, my sister can tell when I'm anxious, sad, even hungry. And I know when she's completely herself or shoving up a front.
Warm air washes over us immediately, the smell of sweet wine, bitter beers and fresh cooked food feels homey some how. I scan the room, Bee immediately runs over to Alex and Haley who light up when they see her. I stand awkwardly in the door way, close enough to Bee to hear her hiss a whispered "Be nice," to Haley.
"Hey...Bee right?" Haley offers me a smile, though I notice her eyes scan my outfit with a raised eyebrow. I smile back at her, heart pounding, and I'm certain my smile is more of a grimace. This was a mistake, I think over and over again. I eye the exit, why did I come here? There's nothing wrong with chickens. They love me, they let me pet their fluffy little heads, they don't look at me with judgement and distaste unless I let them out late. I Automatically start to drift towards the door. Bee stands back up from her chair, like she's about to follow me but I half-heartedly lift my hand in a stay motion. I won't ruin her evening, we just got here. I reach for the door as she sits back down with a if you're sure look in her eyes. But then the door opens before I can open it.
Abigail eyes widen slightly, not expecting me to be inches away from her.
"Bree! You're here! Good! I was telling Seb and Sam about you, they're probably already here actually, they always get here early, I tell them come on guys get a room at this point right?-" she cuts herself off , eyes scanning my trembling hands and wide eyes, "Are you okay? You're not leaving are you?" I can hear the disappointment in her voice and I can't afford to let another person down. So I give her a shaky thumbs up.
"Sorry...I get a bit anxious, I was going to get some fresh air... But I'm okay now," If she knows I'm lying, she doesn't show it.
"It's okay, I understand," she gives me a small smile, "It's probably overwhelming being new here when everyone already knows each other, it's nearly cult-ish right?"
That gets a small laugh out of me,"Kinda, Oh my Yoba is there a cult here?"
Abigail laughs, "Hell no, don't worry," she links her arm with mine and we start to walk to a separate part of the room I hadn't noticed before. It's a wide space with two vending machines, an old fashioned arcade game, and a pool table. Not to mention a sofa that looks comfy as fuck.
"Though, we do have a shrine to Yoba in the store my dad runs and that get's pretty culty on a Sunday morning when-"
"Abi are you talking about the yoba shrine conspiracy theory again? Everyone here is too boring to form a cult," A guy with long black hair tumbling over his face cuts Abigail off, only meeting her eyes after potting a red pool ball into the pocket of the table.
"You must be Bree," A guy with long blonde hair says from a very comfortable looking sofa, "I'm Sam. The pessimist kicking my ass at pool is Seb."
"I'm not a pessimist, this town is just boring as fuck. But thank you for acknowledging that I'm kicking your ass," Seb says as Sam stands up and pots a ball. The white ball. The others laugh at him and I can't help the chuckle that escapes from me.
I sit down on the very edge of sofa, not daring to take up too much space. Abigail sits down next to me, in the middle of the sofa, bringing up her ankles to sit cross legged. Her knee hits my thigh but I don't mind.
"Bree is from the city you know, but it can't be that great if she chose to move here," Abigail says, prompting me to join their conversation.
Seb looks at me with interest, confusion twisting his lips into an almost scowl, "Why the hell would you want to live here?"
"The city isn't all it seems. I do miss the ease of ordering food and such but there's far too many people there," I'm not ready to share my true reasoning of hating the city and half the people there.
"As soon as I fix up my bike, I'm out of here," Seb says with a shrug, not seeming to notice the pained glance from Sam.
"How are you finding it here?" Abigail asks me, shooting a glare at Seb, "You've nearly been here a month now right?"
"It's definitely different. I miss real coffee. But I could never have pet chickens in the City, so that's a plus" I wonder how the chickens are doing right now. For the past few weeks, my Friday evenings have been reserved to reading books to the chickens, I wonder if they miss me.
The front door to the saloon opens, sending a cold breeze our way, even though we're around the corner from it. A familiar face appears at the bar and I feel the all too common feeling of heat rising in me once again. He hasn't spotted me, which gives me the power of staring. He orders two glasses of red wine, and Leah appears next to him. Something bitter twists in my guts and I pry my eyes away from him.
"Bree....you there? Helloooo?" Abigail says a second later, waving her hands in front of my face. I duck my eyes to my lap. Then when I start to feel the pink fade from my cheeks, I look back to her.
"Oh...I must've...gotten distracted?" The squeak in my voice gives me away and Abigail looks up to where I was looking. I throw a glance back to the bar and see Elliott and Leah laughing with Gus.
"Leah? Yeah she's really nice! Quiet though, spends most of her time in the woods. Didn't think she'd be your type...though actually, woods and nature and stuff,"
"No, not Leah," I say quietly, digging my own grave.
Abigail scrunches her nose, "Elliott? He's pretty to look at I guess. Bit pompous though. He doesn't say much to us either."
"He's nice," I mumble, some of the heat returning to my cheeks once again. Is it normal to flush so much? Maybe I should visit Dr Harvey, maybe I'm coming down with something.
"Maybe you should go talk to him," Abigail winks.
"Maybe I shouldn't," I mumble.
"Well I don't think you have much choice, he's coming over," Sam says from the other side of Abigail. My head shoots up, and there's Elliott, smiling that charming smile of his, heading our way. I Stand up, too quickly, nearly sending Abigail off the sofa with me.
"Elliott, hi!" I say too quickly, but his smile widens.
"Bree, nice to see you again, I didn't know you came here on Friday evenings," He says, now a few paces in front of me.
"Funny, we were just talking about you," Abigail says from behind me, mischief curving the you in her sentence. So I step backwards on her foot, mentally sending her a shut the fuck up message.
"Oh?" Elliott cocks an eyebrow, interest glittering in his eyes.
"She thinks you're nice," Seb says not looking up from the pool table. Kill me. Please Yoba Kill me.
"Well I think Bree is very nice too," Elliott says, taking a sip from his wine glass. Red stains his upper lip and a part of me wants to lick it away. Get a grip, my Yoba you've spoken to him like three times.
I stare at him, dumbfounded, "I....Thank you.." Yeah. Great response Bree, you're so good at this.
"I've got to get back to Leah, but don't forget to come over some time Bree," He winks at me and raises his hand in a wave as he walks away.
Silence. Not even the sound of a pool cue hitting a ball.
I turn around to face my new friends who are all looking at me, slightly agasp.
"What?" I ask, sitting back down next to Abigail, who turns so quickly to face me that her deep purple hair smacks Sam across his face.
"You're totally banging, tell me you're banging," she says, so quickly I don't know how she doesn't trip over the words.
"Oh my Yoba, No! We're not doing...that. What!?" I do like my pale complexion, but I don't think my face will ever go back to that colour. Embarrassment shoots a hoarse noise, that I think was supposed to be a laugh, out of my mouth.
"He invited you to his hut," she says tersely.
"Yeah, to go help him with his plant!" I bury my face in my hands, I'm never going to live this down.
"Is that what we're calling them these days," Seb looks down to his crotch, earning ravenous laughter from Sam and Abigail.
"I hate you guys."
"No you don't," Beams Sam.
"Just mark my words," Abigail says in a serious voice, "It's gonna happen, You're so gonna bang."
As the evening fades, I encounter several penis/vegetable puns, and as embarrassed as I am, I'm happy I've made some friends.