The Great Wide Somewhere
Title taken from the lyrics of Belle's Reprise in Beauty and the Beast (Disney). I do not claim the rights to the lyrics.
Author's Note: thanks for reading! I'm putting up this second chapter because I'm on a writing ROLL! Hahaha. Oh, bouts of inspiration, how I love thee. Please review and let me know what you think. I'm thinking about re-writing the entire first chapter. It moves too fast for me. I was in a rush to get everything out that the chapter just has too much character detail. GROSS. Enjoy, read, write, and eat!
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He sat on the Levitt's porch railing, looking out over the woods surrounding the family's backyard. It was a quiet summer night, the air crisp and a light breeze keeping the woods cool. He had the urge to jump the railing and trot into the woods, but he knew he couldn't. There were too many memories in those woods that he was not willing to revisit.
Laughter spewed from the house, pulling at his attention. He kept his head straight ahead, staring into the woods. Roosevelt was a small town with little light pollution. Looking up, he could see all the stars in the night's sky. It made him feel smaller than ever, staring into the beautiful abyss. The stars twinkled and winked at him, beckoning him to the sky.
"It's really nice out," she said, grabbing and keeping his attention. He turned around quickly, caught off guard and vulnerable. She stood with the light from the house pouring from behind her through the open door. It gave her a glowing illusion and made his heart stop. "The sky's brighter."
Abrigail sat on the Levitt's porch steps, watching the sun set through the trees of the woods. The sun was glowing orange and red, contrasting with the deep greens of the leaves in the trees. Fall would be coming to Roosevelt soon.
The Levitt's weren't home, having all gone to Florida to visit Jackson at school for the weekend. Since middle school, Abrigail would come and go about the Levitt house without a second thought. The house was her second home, if not more of a home than her parent's house. The house was large and old, built of burgundy bricks and grey stones. The house sat on the largest piece of land in the entire town and stood as a monument. It was the third house to go up in the town, and the one of few original homes that still stood.
Abrigail sat on the porch, feet stretched in front of her and leaning back on her arms. There was nothing for her to do. The first week of sophomore year had come and gone, and there was barely enough homework to keep her busy for an hour. There was a party at someone's house, but Abrigail was not much of the party type, usually.
That night was different. With the Levitts gone, Abrigail's only friends were already getting dressed to party the night away. She'd have to join them if she didn't want to die of boredom on the Levitt's porch.
In Florida, sitting in the back seat of a rental car, Johnson sat between his brothers. He was always in the middle of things—figuratively and literally. At that moment, he felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. Jackson was tense to his right, clearly in a bad mood, and Jamieson was oblivious to his left. Johnson knew, assumed really, that Abrigail was also in a bad mood in Roosevelt.
When Johnson, Jamieson and their parents had left for Florida, Abrigail had avoided them. Any conversation about Jackson put her in a sour mood, and Johnson could not understand why. He knew something had happened between them, but he didn't know what.
Was it romance? Johnson nearly laughed out loud at the thought. Abrigail wasn't the romantic sort of girl. In fact, she was reserved and quiet towards boys that tried to romance her. She neither denied nor implied any interest in romance.
"I'm just trying to get through high school," She'd say if anyone asked. It was obvious that Abrigail didn't like anyone in Roosevelt. She didn't swoon or sigh over any of the "popular" boys and had never gone out on a date with any of them. Abrigail was still a tomboy at heart, and Johnson liked to believe that she still thought boys had cooties.
"Stop smiling like a dick head," Jackson said, giving Johnson a dirty look. "You look stupid."
"I'll smile if I want to, dick head," Johnson replied, glaring at his brother. Jackson scoffed at him before throwing his chin in the air and turning towards the window again.
"Boys, language," Mr. Levitt said from the driver's seat. "Your mother has gentle ears."
"Oh, shut up, Larry," Mrs. Levitt said, laughing. Johnson continued to smile. He pulled out his cell phone and texted Abrigail.
Abrigail received the text message while walking to the party. She was dressed in a billowy top and black faux leather tights. She wore black tennis shoes on her feet.
"Who texted you?" a girl named Courtney asked. Courtney Galliger was no one of particular importance to Abrigail. Courtney was pretty, with big blue eyes and blonde hair, but she was boring. She liked radio music and scrapbooking. Although she was boring, Abrigail often socialized with her out of common courtesy. Courtney was always around, and everyone tried to shun her. There was nothing really wrong with the girl, so Abrigail took it upon herself to befriend the other girl.
It was hard to stay friends with Courtney.
"Johnson," Abrigail replied, smiling to herself.
"Jackson's being a dick. What happened?" The text message read. Abrigail rolled her eyes.
"I told you to ask him," she texted back. She didn't get a reply until after two cups of jungle juice and a beer. She was sitting on a bed, tangled in someone's sheets with a boy she barely recognized. He was tall, skinny and an amazing kisser. Abrigail had felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket and it woke her up from whatever stupor she was in.
Abrigail brought her hands up and pushed the boy off of her. She sat up and adjusted her clothing and ran her index fingers under her eyes to make sure her make-up was okay.
"Hello?" she said, answering the phone call.
"Don't get my brothers in the middle of our business," Jackson's voice growled at her. Abrigail immediately hung up the phone, her heart racing.
"What the hell?" The boy on the floor asked her, rubbing the back of his head. He was brown haired and pale, someone that Abrigail didn't recognize from school. She assumed he was from the neighboring town.
"I have to go," Abrigail replied quickly, without giving him a second glance. Her heart was racing, making blood rush from behind her ears. She could feel the alcohol drag her feet to the floor—making her clumsy—but she was too determined to get home.
Jackson's voice had shaken her world, the way it always had. Her phone vibrated in her hand again. Jackson's name showed up. It made her want to puke.
"Leaving already?" Spenton asked, suddenly appearing in front of her. She crashed into him with a thud, throwing her hands up to balance herself. He grabbed onto her hands with his, their fingeres intertwining. He chuckled, watching has she struggled to find balance. "Maybe you should leave, drunky."
"Shut up," Abrigail growled, shaking his hands away from her. Spenton let go, but quickly put his hand on her elbow when she lost balance again. Abrigail's head felt heavy and her world was tilting. She was drunk and she couldn't deny it. "I need to sit."
"Don't throw up," Spenton said. He pulled her to the living room where party goers were dancing and laughing. Abrigail wasn't the only person sitting in a stupor. "How much did you drink?"
"More than usual," she replied.
"Florida with his dick head brother," Abrigail replied with bitterness laced in her voice. She sighed and her face fell into her hands. Her head was pounding and her world was spinning very slowly. "I have to go home."
"You're not driving," Spenton warned.
"No shit, I don't have a car," Abrigail mumbled, rolling her eyes. "You're an asshole."
"You walked?" Spenton asked, ignoring her insult. He was completely sober. Everything at the party did not appeal to him. He wasn't the type to go out and drink his mind to oblivion. He didn't even like going to parties. The only reason Spenton was there was because Roosevelt was boring and there was nothing better to do.
He was surprised that he was being so nice to Abrigail. The girl was annoying since the first time he had laid eyes on her. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but she acted like no one liked her. She walked around saying hello to everyone, but there was something about the way she stood or sat that showed he was uncomfortable in her surroundings. She had the façade of a bully, but he could see right through her. She was hurting herself more than she was hurting others.
"Yeah," Abrigail sighed. "I'm gonna go."
"Walk in the street! Maybe you'll get hit by a car," Spenton said, watching her get up. Abrigail flicked her middle finger at him as she walked away.