Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

She was a rumoured lunatic, apparently tough to the bone.

“She’s got the goth look today,” Jace commented. “How the hell is she not sweating in that jacket?”

“I heard she knocked out Colin Friers in the park. They were arguing over a pack of cigarettes,” Zippo said.

Jace scoffed. “Just because it’s said, doesn’t mean it’s true. People lie, Zip.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. She’s pretty strong for a girl.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jace asked.

“Well, guys are tougher than girls.”

“Not Chyna though! She’d pop your head like a grape.”

Stripe ignored them as they bickered, she was glued to the original topic. Cameron was dressed in a black leather jacket, tight black pants, a Henley shirt and chequered sneakers. Her dark hair was shaggy, Stripe wondered if a drunken hairstylist had attacked her locks with a hatchet instead of scissors. It hung over her slender nose, covering her strong jawline, which Zippo had said was ‘too thick for a chick’.

There were constant rumours flying around about the notorious Miss Storms; that she belonged to a cult which practiced animal sacrifice, that she snuffed cocaine in the toilets and she’d been in a house fire which was why she never wore short sleeved shirts.

Smoke and mirrors, Stripe thought. Everyone has rumours.

Cameron locked eyes with Stripe as she made her way to the back of the gym, probably going for a smoke. There was something about her stare that unnerved Stripe. It was powerful and threatening, as if she knew she’d been watching her. Stripe could’ve been overthinking it. Everyone made assumptions, but this particular one had been bothering her for quite a while.

Stripe went to her locker after English class and pulled out her books. The corridor was hectic. Students sometimes brushed each other to get to their destination. Her shoulders quivered when she saw Cameron a couple of lockers up the way. Stripe tried to act busy as Cameron slammed her locker shut.

“I like your jacket,” Stripe said.

“Excuse me?” Cameron stopped, looking at her.

“I said, I like your jacket.”

Cameron glanced at her outfit, smirking as she gave her a once over inspection. “Thanks. Nice…pants.”

Stripe’s heart froze. She’s mocking me. She turned, feeling like a complete idiot.

Cameron’s warm skin pressed against her back. Keeping still, Stripe waited for her to move along, then she heard a massive intake of breath. Cold air brushed the back of Stripe’s neck and the warmth of Cameron disappeared.

“You’ve got to be joking! Seriously? She smelled you?” Jace exclaimed as soon as Stripe had finished her story.

“I think that’s what happened,” she replied nervously, clutching her books to her chest.

“Well, she is a freak and… I’ve heard she’s gay too. Maybe she has a thing for you?”

Stripe wanted to laugh right in her best friend’s face. “Not with the dagger eyes of death she sends me. What should I do, Jace?”

“If you want it to stop, maybe you should speak to her.”

“Are you insane? She’ll probably hit me!”

“Then quit thinking about it.”

Soon enough, Stripe was walking to the back of the gym, trying to keep a quiet dignity about herself. It wasn’t working. Why did I let Jace inside my head? Why did I listen? I must be crazy. I should forget about this. Yes, that’s a really good, healthy idea. Forget about it. Yes, forget about it and go to the library and study.

She heard loud yells then she caught sight of Cameron and her sheepish followers. Cameron was smoking a cigarette, laughing along with her group. She was sitting on the ledge, her lanky legs hanging off the edge. Her friends switched in unison when Stripe approached cautiously. She felt like a timid zebra tiptoeing past a herd of stirring hungry lions.

“What do you want, Susan?” Christopher Maxwell asked, blowing smoke into Stripe’s eyes.

Stripe coughed, waving it out of her face. “Enough with the tough talk, Christopher. It doesn’t suit you. I just want to have a quick word with Cameron.”

Every head turned like a corkscrew to gape at their leader.

Cameron smirked, leaping from the ledge. “What about?”

Her friends started to giggle. Cameron sure had a spring to her step. Maybe it’s the cocaine. “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”

“Yeah okay,” Cameron uttered, stomping around the corner.

Stripe escaped from her friends, she heard them laughing, mocking the way she spoke and walked. The phrases, stoo-pid, frid-ged and ug-lee were kindly used.

Cameron led her to the bike shelter and she leaned up against the wood crossing her arms. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

Stripe stepped towards her, twiddling her fingers.

Cameron sparked up one of her cigarettes, tipping the packet. “Want one?”

“No thanks. I know we’ve not talked much but-”

“We don’t talk at all,” Cameron said.

“Actually, we have. You asked me for a pencil in Math a few weeks ago.”

“Did I?” Cameron frowned. “Funny. I don’t remember. Anyway, get on with what you were gonna say.”

“I..I was wondering, as this has been bothering me for a while. Umm, are you...” Stripe stumbled over her words. “Are you... a lesbian?”

Cameron breathed in the smoke and blew it out, she didn’t look fazed or insulted. “What’s it to you? Are you a lesbian?”

“Of course, I’m not,” Stripe muttered. “I mean, if you are, there’s nothing wrong with it, but I’m just here to tell you...that I don’t swing that way, and I want you to stop.”

“Excuse me? Stop what exactly?”

“You’re always looking at me and today you brushed up against me and smelt my hair! It freaks me out and I just want you to quit it!”

“I was getting something from my locker. I wasn’t fucking smelling you! What the fuck is your problem?”

“I think you’re the one with the problem, not me.”

“Wrong, sweetie.” Cameron laughed, blowing out the final thread of smoke. “You came interrogating me, remember?”

“Don’t sweet talk me!”

“Conversation’s over,” Cameron muttered.

She pushed past Stripe, making sure to give her a bullying nudge to her shoulder before she disappeared round the corner.

The bell chimed at