Simpatico Outcasts

❝Everyone thinks that the outcasts are the rejects, don't fit into groups or societies; they're the ones people don't want. But they're wrong, because outcasts do belong somewhere. Together.❞


For 17-year-old, Cecil Jones, the Simpatico Outcast group had become her world. A world in which she could avoid her home, her family and anything else she didn't want to think about. She'd found comfort in having a group, and even a boyfriend, despite never knowing where she was going to sleep at night. But after one weekend, everything changes again and she's forced into the realisation that you can't just ignore the wounds before they've healed. And no matter how hard you try to bury the past, it comes back to haunt you.


4. Four ⦁ Lips and Eyes


⦁ Reggie ⦁ 

“Kiss me,” she whispered. 

My whole body was tensed as her face hovered inches from mine. She looked peaceful but mischievous and beautiful all at the same time. I couldn’t breathe. 

Her eyes fluttered open again, her brown eyes stared in to mine. “No one will know,” she said slowly and there was an edge of mystery to her voice. 

I still couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I was stuck fast to my position. I watched her shift her body, her leg moving over my lap so that she could place herself in front of me. Her legs were either side of me, pushed close to mine. Goosebumps erupted all over me. Everything in my head was saying this shouldn’t be happening. Yet as I looked back at her as she leaned in closer, excitement and nervousness rippled through my body. 

I hardly had time to take a breath before her lips crashed on to mine. It was soft but forceful at the same time. Nicotine and lipstick and fire. I couldn’t pull away. I knew it was wrong but I just let it all happen. I kissed back, her fingers wrapped through the back of my hair and pulled me closer. It was like we were stuck in a fight, our lips moving quickly like if we stopped the world would end. 

My hands were suddenly on her legs, bare skin on her thighs, ripped denim fabric further up. I could feel my hands tingling as I moved them. She pulled back for just a second, to throw her hair out of her face and as I opened my eyes I caught a glimpse of her smile. Her hair billowed around her like black waves in an unruly sea. 

Then her lips hit mine again like water onto the shore. It wasn’t cold though; it was inviting, warm, alive. I liked it even though I shouldn’t. I wanted more and more. 

I slowly felt her pull on my shoulders, guiding me so I was standing up. I pulled back for breath as I watched her pull off her hoodie and throw it away. I could have stopped it there but I couldn’t, I was mesmerised and stuck and I liked it. 

Her hands were on me again, pushing me back on the sofa as she climbed on top of me. Her breaths were coming out fast as she leaned in again, reuniting our lips. My hands gripped her thighs and as we kissed again and again, I slipped one up the back of her t-shirt, feeling the hairs raise on her skin. It was warm and soft to the touch. I caressed her skin as she seemed to mould more easily into my body. 

There was so much heat radiating between us. I could feel the tingling, the pressure in my crotch building and I almost felt sick. There was so much excitement in me but nerves too. One niggling doubt that this was wrong, I needed to stop... But I didn’t. 

She suddenly broke off the kiss and it was like there was fire in her eyes. Her lipstick was smudged and she moved her hand to wipe it away. She looked back at me and she grinned, this perfect but almost sad smile. 

“Sometimes I just do things because I don’t want anyone to tell me I can’t,” she whispered, her face closer to mine again. My breaths were heavy from the intense moment. I couldn’t stop looking at her. 

Her lips brushed gently against mine, so soft, almost teasing. I swallowed hard, a hand moving to the side of her face. “You can,” I whispered back and my voice came out almost husky. A smile played across her lips. I could feel mine tingling, wanting hers on mine again. It felt wrong but also right. She was luring me in to her gaze and I couldn’t stop it. 

“Kiss me, Reggie.” 

And I did. Like my life depended on it.

It was a few seconds before I realised my face was wet. Cecil pulled back and I saw the tears all over her face. I swallowed hard and looked back at her, questioning and nervous.

"What's wrong?" I asked slowly as I felt more of her tears drip down on me.

She dropped her head to my shoulder, relaxed into me. Her tears stained my t-shirt. I didn't know what to do but put my arms around her and hold her tight. I waited until she spoke again.

It was in a watery, sad voice that cracked as she spoke. "I'm a bad person."

I swallowed hard again as her words seemed to echo hauntingly round my head. I was a bad person. I let this happen.

"You're not. I am." My own voice cracked.

I felt her shake her head against my shoulder. "I just... I do things before thinking of consequences."

I had nothing to say, the air restricted in my lungs.

She spoke again, lifted her head slightly, looked at me sideways. "I'm sorry."

I moved my head so I could look at her eyes better. It tormented me how sad they were. "It's okay," I replied quietly.

Her lip quivered and more tears pierced her eyes. "I just can't stop," she whispered and her lips grazed against my cheek. "My mother always said I was a reckless person, and I know I am."

Her lips trailed down my jaw line and to my neck, causing me to intake breathe sharply. Tingles erupted down it and I wondered whether I should sit up, push her off, stop it all but I couldn't. I was trapped under her. She was sad but mysterious and soft against my skin, like a kind of maddening spell. I was confused but exhilarated at the same time.

I wanted to say something as she paused over my face again, eyes looking in to mine, but any words that could have come to my mind were swallowed down. She kissed me simply and then smiled slightly. Then she slowly retreated away, climbing off me. I watched her, pushed myself up into a sitting position as she padded across the room to retrieve her hoodie from the floor. She pulled it on, half off one shoulder as she turned around again, looked across at me.

"No one has to know about this, okay?" she muttered. She seemed sad still but she didn't seem guilty and I thought it should bother me but it didn't.

I found myself nodding, still unable to rip my eyes away from her.

"Good." She smiled again, and her eyes cleared slowly from the overwhelming sadness. She moved across to get her bag, and then to the bathroom where she closed the door behind her. When I heard the lock click I leaned back into the sofa, brushed a hand through my hair.

What the hell just happened? My breathing was still unsettled, goosebumps still down my whole entire body. She had confused me. She was excited but then sad and then happy and enchanting and everything... just everything. It messed up my brain.

I slowly got to my feet, downed the rest of my now cold coffee and tried to calm myself down. I went to the sink, watched the last dregs off coffee fall down into the plug hole. She had been here for not even half a day and things were already complicated. There was still Saturday and Sunday and not to mention driving on back to school where I would have to see Archie. I would have to pretend like nothing happened. How was I supposed to do that? How was I supposed to act normal?

But I always did that, didn't I? It was like Cecil said. A facade. Those people, they didn't know who I really was. I was just the band t-shirt guy who was always quiet. Always looked depressed. That was who I was to them... But Cecil. She had seen me. She had got under my skin. She had made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time. And I wanted to feel that, again and again. But I couldn't. I shouldn't have let it happen in the first place.

I swallowed hard, busied myself with washing the mug and turned to put it back into the cupboard. I almost lost my hold on it as I jumped. Cecil had walked back into the room without me hearing her. She was relaxed in to the armchair, watching me. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and warmness creep up my face.

She'd taken off all her makeup, so that her features looked softer. Her hair was pulled back from her face, into a pony tail and she'd pulled on a large white t-shirt and grey pyjama shorts. It was weird to see her in them. She was always in dark t-shirts and denim shorts, ripped fishnet tights. Now she looked completely different but she still held herself in the same way. Her eyes were still the same inside. Mischievous but sad and mysterious.

"It's quiet," she commented and I nodded.

I forced myself into movement again, shutting the cupboard. I moved back to the record player, chose another song and sat on the sofa. I got out another cigarette, threw her the packet and lighter without a word. I didn't exactly know what to say. Taking in large drags every few minutes, I expelled the smoke into the air. The room was soon filled with the lingering smoke as we sat and listened to the songs. We said nothing, we just sat there for the next few hours, the room slowly getting darker.

After that, she said she wanted to sleep so I let her take the bed. I relaxed back into the sofa. The room was quiet now but I felt like the silence was loud. Loud with thoughts. It was like I could feel her active brain behind that curtain. I knew she was still awake. I was wide awake too. Guilt was swirling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't know what to do about it.

I reminded myself that I couldn't do anything about it. It had already happened. I couldn't stop something that had already happened.

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