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 mistakes you make, sometimes you just can't stop making them over and over again.

7Likes
6Comments
1515Views

Author's note

A/N: Please be aware that some chapters contain adult/sexual content (why I have rated it R) so please don't read it you feel uncomfortable with that.
AA

17. Seventeen ⦁ Fate or something

⦁ Cecil

We sat out on the roof ledge outside the window again, looking up at the moon as we shared a cigarette between us. 

“Do you believe in God?” I asked, the random question popping into my head. 

Reggie lowered the cigarette and handed it to me, with a slight frown. “What do you think?” I could sense that the answer was probably a no. “Do you?” 

I looked back at the moon as I contemplated. “There must be something controlling the forces of the universe. I don’t think it’s specifically a god, but there must be someone or something deciding what happens.” 

I puffed out a breath and turned my eyes back to Reggie. He was listening very intently to me, like he actually gave a shit about what I had to say. Sometimes I didn’t think the rest of our friend group really listened to me. They probably just though ‘oh Cecil is just ranting about some shit again.’ 

“Fate or something,” he suggested. “That must have something to do with it.” 

I shrugged. “Some say every person you meet is out of fate, for some reason.” 

“So, us sitting out here together is to do with fate?” he questioned and I shrugged again. 

Maybe it is.” Then I passed him the last of the cigarette and got to my feet. I got my balance so I could make my way towards the window back in to the flat. 

“Where are you going?” Reggie asked, looking over his shoulder at me as I was climbing through the window.  

“I’ve got to go back to Archie’s, I’ve been gone too long already,” I explained and the mention of it didn’t send good feelings through me. I kind of just wanted to stay here with him 

Reggie chucked the cigarette butt over the edge and followed me back inside. I went to find my bag and scarf where I had dropped them earlier, wrapping it around my neck. I could feel him watching me as I pulled out a thicker jacket from my bag and wrapped myself up in it. When I raised my eyes, he seemed almost disappointed, like he didn’t want me to leave, but he knew I really had to. 

I tried to think of something to say but I could only look at him. Tonight had been passionate and refreshing, and just actually nice; to be able to talk with him. He had said nice things to me, even though I knew I was messed up. He didn’t seem to care. I knew the guilt was still there, but tonight he had pushed that further away. He had let me do things to him and they had felt good. 

I cleared my throat and turned to the door as I had probably been standing wordlessly there for too long, absorbed in my thoughts. 

“Goodnight,” I called and he followed me to the door, held it open for me. 

Before I could walk out, he grabbed my arm gently and I looked up at him. His eyes were questioning me. 

“What are we... How does this work?” he asked and he seemed anxious. “How do we keep it a secret?” 

I smiled up at him gently, and went on my tiptoes so I could reach his eye level. I could feel the excitement writhing in me, the anticipation at what we were doing, what we were developing into. It wasn’t a relationship exactly, we weren’t going to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was something. And that something excited me as much as it made me anxious; but I knew I wanted what we had between us to keep going. 

We’ll make it work, whatever this is,” I whispered and kissed him one last time before I pulled away. It was deep and passionate, but I knew I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t be tempted to go back in to the flat with him. 

He tried to make the kiss last longer, hands on my waist trying to pull me back towards him but I was forceful as I pulled myself fully away. I needed to go. If this was going to work, we needed people to be as unsuspicious of us as possible. Archie couldn’t find out. 

I winked at him, with a cheeky grin on my face. “Can’t have too much of a good thing all at once.” 

Then I turned away and began to walk off. I could feel him looking at me, watching me all the way down the corridor until I got to the lift. I waved before the metal doors shut and the lift started to sink. 

As I waited to reach the bottom, I leant back against the back wall of the lift, shut my eyes for a few seconds. It almost scared me how open I had been with him; I hadn’t really said that kind of thing to anyone. I imagined people would only warn me to behave better, to stop trying to be self-destructive. But Reggie, his reaction was different. He said I could be whoever the fuck I wanted and if that was a bad person, it didn’t matter. The lift binged and I opened my eyes, walked out in to the lobby and then into the cold, dark night. 

I began to walk down the pavement. Some people were obsessed with not being the bad person, but sometimes I didn’t really mind that much. And if Reggie didn’t mind either, that meant when I was with him I could follow every single impulse that my guilty conscious kept telling me to ignore. I wasn’t able to ignore it, I knew that now. I had tried to stay away from him, from the reckless things I wanted to do but in the end I couldn’t do it. I gave in and so did he; we did bad things together. 

Our friendship group had always jokingly used the word simpatico, but now, when I thought about Reggie, I really did think of that word. He was likeable to me and we just sort of seemed to have become so easily drawn to each other. It wasn’t just sex and desire, although I had to admit that was a lot of it. It was also this feeling that he seemed to get me, to accept me how I was and it was like we understood each other. We understood what being an outcast was like, what having parents who you don’t particularly see eye to eye with was like, what pretending to be someone was like that you showed to everyone else, what having walls was like to protect yourself. But we both broke those walls for each other and got in to each others brains, our emotions and feelings. We both saw that there was more below the surface than what we mostly portrayed. 

We were simpatico outcasts, but together we could feel like less of a outcast just for a little while. We could be unapologetically us, wild and free together. Not forced into the outcast box that made you feel like you had to shove yourself in a corner but also act out against everyone for it, which would only make you seem even more of an outcast. I was rude, harsh mouthed and just some piece of shit to other people. I didn’t care though, because being an outcast was the only way to not force myself to be like everyone else. I could be me, and like Reggie said I should be able to do what I wanted. So, I was going to just keep on being me. A self-destructive, reckless girl who just says and does shit because she just wants to. 

“Hey, sexy!” A loud voice cut through my internal thought process. A drunk looking guy was staggering towards me. 

I tried to ignore him and kept walking, quickening my pace a little bit. I didn’t want to have to deal with him. I found myself wishing Reggie could have given me a lift. 

The guy made a noise and then promptly smacked my arse as he trailed behind me. I instantly tensed up, whirling around to face him. I pushed him and slapped him across the face. 

He tried to grab my boobs and I smacked his hands away with a yell of, “get off me!” 

I saw him going for another approach but I reacted quickly, slamming my foot into his crotch area causing him to almost crumple, leaning back against a garden fence. I glared at him. 

Touch me again and I’ll cut your fucking dick off and ram it down your throat,” I snapped harshly and turned away. I hurried off. 

“And I thought you were going to be a nice girl!” he called after me. 

I took a big breath in, and muttered under my breath, “I’m not nice to arse holes like you.” 

I rounded a corner and he was gone, not following after me again. I pulled my jacket closer around me and tried not to shudder too much. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have so easily defended myself like that. In some ways I was glad I’d toughened myself up. Guys like him needed to be told no and taught a lesson. We’re not just a free for all to whoever thinks we look or seem ‘nice’ enough. Nothing gives the right for people to be like that, but people still were anyway. 

You’re a bad person too, my mind yelled at me and I squeezed my hand tight on my bag strap. I wasn’t like that man, I wouldn’t just try and force myself on someone. I wouldn’t do that. 

But didn’t you force yourself on Reggie that first time you kissed him? I couldn’t stop my brain asking me. 

I quickened my pace again, trying to shift the uncomfortable feeling in my chest. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t force it, did I? It just happened, and he kissed back. So, why did I still feel so bad? 

I knew I was a bad person, the cheating was bad but I wasn’t so much of a dick that I would completely force anything on anyoneI asked about the sex, got an okay from him before I did stuff to him. He did consent to it, but the starting of things, wasn’t that all just me? The flirtatious looks, the deep questions, the first kiss. Had I just lured him in to some kind of trap and made him unhealthily attracted to me? 

I tried to cast the thoughts away, told myself I was just overthinking but I still felt unsettled. I tried to focus instead on getting in to Archie’s house as quietly as I could, grabbing the hidden key from under the flowerpot (typical hiding spot, huh.) I went in to his room at the top of the stairs, taking my shoes and jacket off, being careful not to wake him as I changed into pyjamas. 

slipped into the right side of the bed next to him, settling down with my back towards him. I closed my eyes and tried not to worry myself about my thoughts. I was probably just needlessly trying to pick errors in things I was doing, like usual. 

“You smell of cigarettes,” Archie’s sudden whisper made me jump. I turned slightly to look over my shoulder at him. He was laying on his back but staring at me with his still half asleep eyes. 

I swallowed hard. It probably didn’t make sense that I would come back smelling like that from my home, where he thought I had gone to give my brother the pregnancy test. 

“I left my phone charger at Reggie’s, I had to quickly go and get it. He smokes you know,” I finally was able to lie. He seemed too tired to argue or question the authenticity of the story, fluttering his eyes closed. 

“I know,” he replied and then his breathing became shallower as he dropped off back to sleep. 

I sighed deeply and turned away. I felt like if I looked at him for too long I would feel steadily worse and worse about everything. Lying was just second nature though, and I really hoped he kept believing what I said to him. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...