Operation: Fix It

​

Agreeing was something people usually did with me, but not this time. This time, people disagreed when I said he was cute. I mean, he wasn’t like Chris, who was hot as hell. But I thought Andrew was cute. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but after a few days of him being here, he got a few, his little click. It took me a while to figure out the dynamics of the school, and when I did, I was horrified. How could I have been so damn blind? Every school is similar in one way, the clicks. You’ve got the Populars, the Jocks, which sometimes run together… Then there’s the Band Geeks and the Computer Nerds… The Skater Boys… The Dopies… Every school is the same. I was in the Popular group, and Andrew was in the Loud and Annoyings. So I figured out my click and at first, I was proud of that fact. Until I realized that being a bitch was a requirement for being popular. I wasn’t raised that way and was ashamed to realize what I had become. Humiliated? Yes, I was very. Arrogant? Also yes. I was determined with a blazing passion to change. I had to fix it. I was the kind of person to write down everything. So when I figured out this fact about myself and the clicks, I wrote it down and made some points on how to fix it. Then I named it, Operation: Fix It. But where, oh where, to begin? First, I talked to the Band Geek, which wasn’t nearly as difficult as I prophesied. I made close friends with Nathalie. I told her about Operation: Fix-It and she hopped on board, showing that she wasn’t really as geeky as she looked with her appearance and social static. Next, I spoke with Computer Nerds. Odd, they were, but also smart as hell. From that group, I discovered Bree; who I would never fully unravel the mental awareness or personality of, as she changed too often and was too complicated to completely keep up with. The Wannabe Cools followed in my work. They really weren’t’ at all what I expected. They could be cool, except for the obvious fact that they were bitches and assholes, and that was a requirement. Evan was who I made a connection with from there. But then one night while I was doing homework, my phone rang. It was Kyle, one of the Populars. I missed him, so I answered casually. I had never experienced crying from Kyle, but crying he was.

“I’m fucking done with them!’ He screamed, and when I asked what was wrong, I realized what was happening, was only a crack in his dam. He really broke then; for three hours he went on about how Chris had accused him of being gay and Kyle’s best friend didn’t stand up for him. The thing was, Kyle was gay, and I was the only one who knew. I explained my situation to him, and about the pack I accidentally created, and from that point on, Kyle was with us. The thing was, everyone in our pack didn’t belong anywhere else. Sure, we had our groups and clicks, but truly, we never really belonged. Nathalie, the first addiction was extremely anti-social and had a stutter so bad, she didn’t talk for two years straight. She got heavily bullied for it, and one time, got shoved off a swing so bad, she broke both her arms. Bree called herself a “Little”, which meant when things got too hard or too stressful; her mind reverted to a child-like state-of-mind. The innocence made things easier to handle with her anxiety. Evan dealt with severe depression. People nicknamed him “Hoodie” because he always wore hoodies, even in ninety-degree weather. Truth be told though, was that he was just trying to cover up the cut marks on his arm, also the reason he never wore shorts. Four times, he’d tried committing suicide, and that was only the times he told me about… Kyle, of course, was gay; which in their opinion, lowered his status. The only click I hadn’t talked to in my mission of proving I wasn’t a bitch, was Andrew’s. I was scared. Talking to his pack meant talking to him and talking to him meant facing my fears, and facing my fears was the one thing I could never do. Andrew was cute though. Brown with tents of red, his curly hair was. Light, but not pale, was his skin. Pimples dotted his face heavily, almost covering just a few odd in freckles. His nose was big, his lips were small. Grey and brown blanketed the irises of his average eyes, of which would have to look down quite a way to see me. As he was five-foot, eight-inches, and I was five-foot-even. He was a normal weight, not much muscle, and had big feet. He didn’t look like any of my friends. Kyle had blonde, thin curls, and was tall, skinny, and had big lips to cover his crooked teeth beneath his long, skinny nose, and brown eyes. Nathalie was very pale, with thin lips over her braces, lying below her classes to aid her baby blue eyes. Long, stringy, pale brown hair leaked from her head to her lower back area, of which she was constantly messing with. Bree was “chubby” with green eyes behind her glasses, beneath her thick, chocolate brown bangs. She was a good height of five-foot-five, with big cheeks and small lips.

Evan was mixed with Hawaiian and was gorgeous. He had bright green and blue eyes—his left was blue, his right was green—and black, shaggy hair over his golden skin. He was tall, with a tad bit of muscle. Since I’m telling description of everyone else, I might as well to me too. I’m short, pale, freckles, and have big lips, curly red hair, and curves for days. My eyes are hazel and my nose is biggest, but not huge. I’m pretty, I guess, but there is prettier. At lunch one day, while gazing over at Andrew, he casually turned and I ducked my head quickly, blushing, of course. As I could blush at just about anything, anywhere, and anyhow. You name it, I could blush to it. “You like em’?” I looked up to see a tiny girl with black hair, big glasses, and a cute nose. “Maybe,” I answered. I recognized the small girl, everyone called her Meanie Minnie. Weighing one hundred and sixteen pounds, only five-foot-one, she was a firecracker of muscle, cusswords, tattoos, and cigarettes. “He’s nice. You should talk to him.” She sat next to me. “Imma sit kay?” And from that moment, Tiny was a big play in our pack. Maybe, with this many people helping, Operation: Fix It, would be a success.

 

The Sleepover

 

It seems I forgot to tell you my name. I’m Kyra, I’m fifteen, and I live in Erlanger, Kentucky. It’s not a huge place, I admit, there’s a lot of highways. But it’s home to me and the good folks here. I wasn’t born here but moved here at the age of four. Erlanger is the only home I’ve ever known. When Andrew moved here, of course, I was too scared to speak with him. So I eavesdropped a lot. I know, I know, it's rude. But I was curious about him, so I asked around, and listened in on conversations until I had a basic knowledge of him and where he was from. Andrew was from Dayton, Ohio. He was fifteen and had one older brother, whose name I was uniformed. Andrew was funny, amazing to be around, liked cats, and was highly inappropriate (one of the things that made him funny). “You should invite Andrew,” Bree pushed as I mixed the ingredients for my well-known cookies. We were having a small get together, movie night, sleepover at my house since my parents were out of town. There was no alcohol, just scary movies, my basement, pizzas, and my cookies. But there were boys staying, and that’s why we had to wait until my parents were gone. I know most kids wouldn’t think this was a huge deal, but it was to my parents. “I’ve never talked to him.” “Don’t worry, I have.” Tiny chimed as she texted on the basement couch. “And I already invited him. He’s on his way.” I spun around. “You what?!” My heart began to race as she repeated her sentence. I hadn’t showered, my hair was a mess, I was in fucking pajamas! And Andrew was coming to MY house! My house was a mess, and the movies we got were cheapos, and I ordered the craziest pizza in town, and there was no alcohol, and he was going to think I was a loser!

Kyle grabbed my shoulders, noticing the sudden panic in my eyes. “Hey, Kyra, you got this!” I looked around at the destroyed basement quickly and he followed. “Look, if this guy can’t see how completely awesome and baller you are, with or without the mess of your life, then you shouldn’t waste your time on him. If he’s going to like you, he’s going to have to like the good and the bad. The crappy pizza, homebaked cookies, smelly basement, and a flat ass. He should like you for you.” Though he called my ass flat, I smiled.

“Thanks, Kyle.” Just then the doorbell rang. I looked at Tiny. “You’re the only one who’s talked to him, I think you should bring him down.” She rose, still texting and not paying much attention.

She came back down the stairs with Andrew while I was bent over the DVD player trying to get the dumb thing to work. Kyle came to help and I stood, throwing my hands in defeat. Then I saw Andrew and my stomach knotted with butterflies.

He grinned, “It not working?”

“No, it’s really old—I mean, I dropped it.” My cheeks filled with blush and he walked passed me, going to the DVD player to examine it. Then it suddenly whirred up and began working.

He peeked over his shoulder at me, “It wasn’t plugged in.” I wanted to curl into a ball and die. How could I have been so stupid?

“Oh.” Was all I managed to say. He looked around the basement. ‘It’s not much—“’ I began to say, but he held up a hand.

“Looks nice compared to mine. I have no basement.” He sat on one of the couches and smiled. “I’m Andrew, you’re Bree?” I froze and he smiled wider. “I’m kiddin’, you’re Kyra.”

“Yeah.” As I replied, the oven of the basement kitchen dinged and I ran over to pull out the chocolate chips.

“Cookies?” Andrew asked, and I gulped.

“Uh yeah… I have this really good recipe, and as cheesy as it is, everyone loves them and—“

“I love cookies, what kind?” I played with my hair.

“Chocolate chip.”

“Do you have milk? I can’t have cookies without milk.”

“Yes, it’s in the fridge.” I pointed but then turned to get it for him, realizing it was rude to make him get it himself. He was already there, pouring himself a cup.

“I would have got that for you.” I blurted out, and he smiled.

“It’s okay, you’ve got your hands full. Need any help?” He took a drink of milk and then set it on the counter.

"Umm," I grinned. “You could make popcorn?” I motioned to the unpopped packets in front of the microwave.

“Aye-aye captain.” He soluted and I giggled, blushing. He smiled and turned towards the microwave.

​

Spin the Closet

 

Why had I agreed to play spin the closet? Spin the closet was like spin the bottle, but you had to go into the closet to kiss, and usually, it intitled other things happening in that closet. It had yet to land on me, though there had been close calls, and now it was my turn, no way to avoid the closet. I closed my eyes, spun the bottle, took a breath, and opened my eyes, before freezing.

Andrew smiled widely, “Lucky me.” He whispered, and I felt the heat rush up my arms, to my neck and face and ears. I’d never been more embarrassed. My stomach twisted as he both stood and everyone laughed. Once in the dark closet, I assume he turned to me.

“We don’t actually have to kiss or anything, we can just say we did.” He offered, and I gulped, reaching out and trying to find where he was. I found his hands and glided my own up his arms, finally finding his face.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, beginning to breathe heavy, the closet so small.

“Really, you looked terrified, if you don’t want—“ I ripped his lips into mine, and he sighed heavily, kissing me back. His hand slid into my hair and mine slid into his. Andrew was an incredible kisser, his lips moving against mine like waves, pulling my bottom lip into his, and then pushing it out again, before starting the rotation over. He gently shoved me up against the closet door and I sighed, kissing his harder.

He drew back first, breathing heavily. I felt his eyes burning into mine. “You are an amazing kisser.” He murmured, and then kissed me again, twice, and finally, we pulled apart. Standing there, trying to unscramble my racing thoughts, I blushed. He called me a good kisser, he kissed me very hard, seeming to want me as much as I wanted him… Did this mean I could really have a chance with Andrew? Maybe… Maybe not.

I went to fix my hair, and he did the same. “Are you wearing lip gloss?” He asked.

“No.” He opened the door and everyone looked at us.

“So?” Kyle pressed, arching a brow.

“So we continue the game.” I declared.

 

That night, sleeping in various places on the floor of the basement, I rose to get a glass of water. When I turned, Andrew was there. I jumped and he smiled, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” I leaned back against the counter and he got a glass of water also. Then he looked at me. He said nothing.

“What?” I finally asked, embarrassed.

He smiled. “Go out with me.” I froze.

“What?”

“Will you go out with me?”

“Like… on a date, or like dating?” He thought for a moment.

“Both? I guess?”

“We don’t even know each other.” He came over, setting his hands on the counter on both sides of me.

“Let's get to know each other.” He hovered over me, and I had to grin.

“Okay.”

“Okay to dating or…?”

“Okay to everything.” He smiled and kissed me. I sighed, kissing him back. Then we returned to the living room, laid down, and talked till everyone woke up. In the morning, everyone helped make breakfast, and looking around, I could see, I didn't need to be popular, or fit into one click, I could make my own. And sitting there, with Andrew's arm over my shoulders, and Bree's feet in my lap, eating pancakes, eggs, and bacon, I could tell that's what had done.

We had made a pack of our own.

​

THE END