The Pantaloon
Too Hungover To Feel
The sixteen year old blew out the smoke, rolling the cigarette around in her ash stained fingers. Marty blew a strand of hair out of her face, annoyed at the brightly dyed orange curl, instantly reaching up to rub the shaved side of her head. Letting her hand drop to her side, she put the cigarette to her lips, pushing off of the alley’s brick wall, shoving the one hand into the pocket of her raven colored sweatshirt and stepping out onto the sidewalk. Throwing the unwanted suicide stick onto the ground, she rubbed out the small flame into the dirt, until the only thing that was left was a stain. Just like her. As she sped quickly down the pavement, her eyes led to a book standing alone in the front window of a bookstore, the same book that had led her to her first boyfriend, Brandon. God, she hardly even remembered what his appearance was. Probably something idiotic. You would fall for the stupidest people, Marty chided herself, frowning at her thoughts and bending her head, pulling the hood over her hair and quickening her pace. Not like she had a place to go back to anymore. Stopping, Marty turned to bang her head into the nearby wall, internally groaning. The hangover from last night had blocked her thoughts until now, forcibly reminding her that her parents had finally kicked her out. Serves me right. Sleeping on the streets didn’t seem like a good idea, since it was in the dead of winter and the temperature was dropping fast. Marty had stupidly blown all her money on alcohol the night before, but not like that was out of the ordinary. Just then, a dirty pickup truck came speeding down the road, whizzing past her, but backing up quickly, going onto the sidewalk. Marty stopped wallowing in self pity for a moment as two teens that looked a little older than her jumped out from the side, both boys. The girl’s heartbeat started to quicken.
“You look like you’re having a little trouble,” One spoke, a slight Italian accent flowing into his speech. His raven colored hair covered his eyes, though the other boy had sunshine locks and a grin. Marty’s mouth flatted.
“Who the hell are you?” She snarled, hangover pounding through her mind.
“I’m Nico, and this is my boyfriend, Will,” The boy motioned, pointing to himself, and then the boy next to him. Each were wearing ruffled orange tee shirts, strange lettering and hazy vision making Marty not able to see it.
“Look, I don’t know if you’re just in my head or not, but why are you here? What do you want with a homeless, wasted teen girl?” Marty’s eyes fluttered slightly, Will laughing. “You think this is funny?”
“Jesus, calm down. We just know what you’re going through. We wanted to take you somewhere, a place that can help you,” Nico outstretched his arm. Marty flipped him off, before hiccuping.
“Listen, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I need to quote en quote fixed. And for the record-” Marty reached out to poke Nico’s chest, only stumbling. Why was it so hard all the sudden to walk? “-I don’t need help.” With that, she puked all over the sidewalk, Will’s face forming into one of disgust. Wiping her mouth lazily, Marty sighed.
“I feel better now,” She spoke to herself, Nico taking her arm and gently leading her to the car, Marty too tired to see what was going on. A florist down the road watched with large eyes as the truck sped away, the orange haired girl taken and gone.
“Hello? Police? Yes, I’d like to report a kidnapping that happened a few seconds earlier…”
