Timothy was a timid boy, his dark hair and light green eyes seemed to draw people to him however. He was a timid boy up until 10th grade. What changed was the people he hung out with. They partied all night, went to school, then took small, hour-long naps at home after school, and the whole cycle would begin again that night.
Tim's grades dropped. But his social life grew. Soon, everyone knew him. Everyone seemed to want to be his friend. Wanted to hang out with the cool kid.
He was the cool kid until Tara Larson walked into the doors of the high school. Her icy eyes pierced any who decided to stare for too long, her long, raven black hair swished behind her like a tail. Her skin was flawless and a perfect cream color. Not pale, but not tanned either, just in between. Her eyelashes were long, and framed her eyes like eyeliner would. She wore dark jeans and low-cut shirts, tank-tops underneath hiding her cleavage.
"Wow, do you see her? She's a goddess!" Someone whispered. Timothy, not caring much for the new girl, clung to his cycle of day and night.
That night, at the large party at someone's house, Timothy was caught with Tara, their arms pressed together as each tried to get to kitchen through the sweaty bodies. Tara glanced at Timothy, disgaurded him, and walked away, toward the living room. Tim followed. Tara swayed with the sweating bodies, Timothy noticed she had glow-in-the-dark nail polish on. He gasped when he noticed the tattoo, printed neatly on Tara's shoulder blade, which was exposed due to a backless summer dress. A bloodied vulture eye. He chuckled at her flip-flops, which were colored with pink fluffy monkeys.
People separated from Tim, who attempted to dance. No one wanted to be seen next to the dork who couldn't dance.
"But I can dance!" Timothy found himself whining.
Tara laughed out loud, and whipped Timothy's hands above his head and helped him sway his hips just right, so they matched the beat.
"Great gaspion!" Tara cried out, hopping on one foot, where Timothy had stepped on her toe was already turning red.
"Tara, are you alright?" Timothy asked, frantic.
"Yes, I'm fine. Why don't you go back to your carolers," Tara barked, smirking darkly as she looked outside, pointing out Timothy's friends belting out tunes they didn't quite know, mumbling most of the time. They were drunk.
"No, they're drunk. They're never any fun when they're drunk," Timothy snapped back, but realized Tara wasn't next to him anymore.
Timothy realized that who had he thought were his friends, weren't at all. They talked about him all the time behind his back, and got drunk all the time, leaving Timothy alone to deal with the party.
When Timothy went back to school, actually catching a few hours of sleep that night, no one could point out where Tara had gone.
Had she just stayed one day?
All anyone knew, was that Tara just disappeared like cigarette smoke on the wind, and that Timothy became the straight A student everyone knew him to be.
Several years later, Timothy died from lung cancer.
A not-so-happy happily ever after.
