Rebel Girl 1

Rebel Girl

Content Warning

: This work has themes of illness, grief, loss, and domestic dispute. If any of these things are triggering to you, please, please read the tag at the very end of the story. It goes into more detail about what this story covers. Some spoilers, but it's better to be informed.

Author's Note:

This is my first real attempt at a full work that wasn't a short story. This is a coming of age story about self discovery and the love between a small town conservative Christian girl and a rebel skater girl. All characters are 18+ high school seniors. Just a warning, and to save people some time, this story is purely romance and not an erotic romance. If you're looking for wank material I'm sorry to say this piece is severely lacking. Also, this piece is entirely fictional, any place names or events that resemble real life are purely by coincidence. That being said, I really hope you enjoy it!

Intro.

My name is Ellie Blackman. What I'm about to tell you isn't a fairytale or a Disney romance where the girl rides off into the sunset with her Prince Charming. It's messy. It's complicated. It's not a lighthearted story where everyone lives happily ever after.

This story is different. It's about a girl who left an imprint on my heart so deep it could never be erased by time. She was wild and fearless and free. She was everything I wished I could be.

If you're still here, it can only mean that you are ready to hear the tale of how a girl forever changed the course of my life and opened my eyes to a world I never thought possible.

Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Part 1.

I remember the exact day I met her. It was Friday, September 7, 2007. I was a senior at Lake Vista High School in Dallas, Texas. The sky was overcast. Clouds blocked out the faint sun and a light drizzle colored the windows. I was sitting near the front of the packed 942 school bus on my way home after a long day of classes.

My parents had moved here from Marathon after my Dad, an oil worker, received a higher paid role as a safety compliance officer at the Pioneer Natural Resources headquarters. This had completely upended my life and left me separated from my best and only friend Maggie Thompson. Despite throwing several tantrums and one priceless family vase- that ended with a belting I'll never forget- I found myself shipped off to the 'big city'. Having lived in a town of less than five hundred and homeschooled my entire life, attending a school filled with over two thousand hormone filled teens seemed like quite a daunting endeavor.

I was an outcast right from the start. My family was the ultra-conservative, attend church every Sunday, pray away the gay, kind of family. To top things off, I was dorky, never wore makeup, still had my braces despite being eighteen, and had a curfew and no phone. Oh, and my entire wardrobe was filled with the most modest of clothing. God forbid I wear anything other than a knee length skirt and a cardigan. Needless to say, I had no friends.

Having loaded up all the students, our bus driver, Melissa or Melinda- whatever her name was, a stout lady in her mid forties with pipes that would make a drill sergeant proud, closed the doors and started the bus. The wheels had just begun to turn when there came a pounding at the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Uttering a few choice curse words under her breath, our bus driver stopped the bus and threw open the doors. "Don't bang on them doors missy! You keep it up and it'll be a detention."

A golden haired girl with dyed red streaks and dark eyeliner hopped onto the bus. "Sorry Ms. Mills, I wasn't sure you'd hear me." She said, chewing the gum in her mouth slowly.

Ms. Mills pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply. "Just get to your seat Kylie."

Kylie nodded and turned to head down the aisle, carrying a weathered skateboard. I stared at her openly.

She wore a beanie, black jacket, white top, and ripped black bell bottom jeans. She had a black choker around her neck and little skull earrings that dangled from her ears. She was exactly the type of girl my parents and Reverend White had warned me about. A troublemaker.

She caught me staring and her eyes narrowed. I glanced away immediately, averting my gaze. I looked out the window hoping she'd pass me by. The last thing I needed was to be associated with a rebel. From the corner of my eye I saw she had come to a stop by my seat. I looked up.

"Move." she said, looking at my bag and giving a jerk of her head.

I grabbed my backpack, put it on the floor by my feet, and scooted by the window.

Kylie sat down next to me, propping a leg up against the back of the seat in front, and taking out her iPod. She slid her skateboard under the seat before giving me a onceover. Seemingly unimpressed by my modest attire, her eyes briefly lingered on the silver cross that hung about my neck. She blew her bangs upwards and groaned. "Great. Stuck with Little Miss Sunday School."

My cheeks flushed and I stiffened in the seat. "You didn't have to sit here."

She made a show of looking around the packed bus. "Yea? And where else would I sit."

"I don't know, maybe on your broomstick?" I said, my teeth clenched.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Looking amused and a little impressed, she gave a small chuckle. "Dang, church girl's got some fire."

I hid a small smile and turned back to the rain-streaked window.

Putting her earbuds in, Kylie unzipped her bag and pulled out a battered looking notebook. She flipped it open and began to draw, her pencil making swift confident strokes across the paper. She stuck her tongue out to the side in concentration as she drew. Unable to help myself, I snuck a peek at her work. Her drawing was a detailed sketch of herself riding the back of a winged beast spitting fire across the sky. She clearly had talent.

"It's nice." I said.

She gave a noncommittal grunt and shrugged, not looking up from her drawing. "I like dragons."

"It's a wyvern." I said eagerly, leaning over to study her sketch more closely.

"What?"

"A dragon has four legs and a wyvern has two."

She stared at me, clearly annoyed.

Me and my big mouth. "It's just, my best friend loved to draw them too and she'd go on and on about the differences between-"

"Yeah? Is she a nosy bitch too?"

My voice caught in my throat and I looked down at my feet, hugging myself. "No." I said quietly. "She... she's really nice."

She noticed the sudden change in my voice and looked up. Her expression softened. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean... I just don't like people looking at my drawings. She doesn't go here?"

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. The silence was thick. I glanced back out the window fighting the lump in my throat. I felt a small tap on my shoulder and looked over. She was holding out one of her earbuds.

"Wanna listen?"

"I-" I hesitated, unsure what to say.

"What's the matter, church girl? Only listen to gospel music?" she asked, her lip curling up in a half smile.

Slowly, I took the earbud and placed it in my ear. I felt it before I heard it. The opening chords were so full of energy, so filled with an unapologetic drive to be free. The beats came in fast, fierce, and dripping with defiance. I had never heard anything like it before. To a girl who had grown up in a small conservative town and only really listened to Christian rock and the occasional mainstream pop song, the music came as a cultural shock. When the electric guitar came in, coupled with the singer's raspy voice, it felt like my eyes were opened for the first time. To me it wasn't just a song. It was... freedom.

I glanced at Kylie. She was grinning. She could tell I understood. This was the moment that would change my life forever.

"Yeah?" she said, her eyes glinting. I bit my lip and smiled back, my head bouncing to the beats.

"What is it?" I asked in wonder.

"

Rebel Girl

by Bikini Kill." she said, her skull earrings swinging from side to side as she closed her eyes, head banging the solo, her fingers shredding an imaginary electric guitar.

The songs she listened to were a mix of heavy metal, rock, and punk. Aerosmith, Beastie Boys, Bikini Kill, Joan Jett, and Lynyrd Skynyrd just to name a few. Not that I recognized any of them at the time. All I knew was, it was the greatest thing I'd ever heard. We shared her iPod until the bus pulled up to her stop. Kylie lived in a neighborhood where duplexes lined the street, their front yards framed by rusted chain-link fences. The paint on the porches was peeling, and a few old cars sat in the driveways.

"This is me." she said, grabbing the skateboard beneath her seat and putting her notebook back in her bag. I handed her earbud back. She pocketed her iPod and gave me a sly smile. "You're alright church girl."

"Ellie. Ellie Blackman."

"Kylie Bennet." she said, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "See ya around, Ellie."

She carried her board in the crook of her right arm and squeezed through the crowded aisle. As soon as she had gotten off the bus, she hopped on her board, coasting down the sidewalk.

The bus started moving again and we soon passed Kylie. I watched her until we had reached the intersection and turned the corner, where she disappeared from view. Though the clouds still remained and the drizzle continued to fall, it felt as though everything had become just a little brighter.

Part 2.

When I got back to my house it was almost 5 and my mother was chopping onions in the kitchen preparing a chicken casserole for dinner. She looked up as I entered, putting the knife down and wiping her hands on a towel. "How was school honey?" she asked casually. She had been asking me this everyday since school started. Probably concerned that I wasn't adjusting.

"It was good. I met someone."

"Oh?" she asked nonchalantly, trying not to sound too curious. "A friend?"

"I think so." I said, dropping my backpack next to the couch.

"That's good," said my mother, a relieved smile slowly spreading across her face. She came around the counter and placed her arm around me. "I knew you'd find someone."

"Thanks Mom." I said feeling a bit awkward.

"Is your friend a girl or a boy?" She asked with a bit of a grin.

"A girl, Mom..."

"Maybe you could invite her over sometime for a playdate?" She said eagerly.

"Mom... I'm not twelve. Besides, I wouldn't want to scare her off." Not that I thought that my home life would ever scare off someone like Kylie. Bore her maybe. If anything it'd be the other way around. I briefly imagined the horrified look on my mother's face if she knew what Kylie really looked like. I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

"By the way, your Aunt Daphne called. She's coming to visit this weekend."

"Yes!!"

I brightened at the sound of that. I always loved having Aunt Daphne around, although my dad certainly didn't approve. She was a free spirit. She was unmarried and had never settled down- preferring to travel and explore the world. And worst of all, at least in my dad's eyes, she didn't attend church. "She's turned her back on God" or "She's filling Ellie's head with dangerous ideas" were just some of the things my father would say to my mother when he thought I was out of earshot. I, on the other hand, loved to hear her stories. Having seen so much of the world, she had so much to tell. Her experiences marching for women's rights, anti-war rallies, and her protests against corporate drilling were all fascinating to me. I would sit there, starry-eyed, as she filled me with tales of her daring escapades. One of my favorite of hers was the time she had chained herself to a beloved redwood to stop logging companies from cutting it down.

"That tree had been standing there for over a thousand years, Ellie. Can you imagine? It was there before Columbus even set foot in America and they wanted to chop it down for a few planks." She had said, shaking her head.

I was only seven when she told me that story.

"I must've been up there for almost a week living off of granola bars. They cut down a few of the trees around us to try and scare us and they blocked a lot of our supplies from reaching us. Even the local cops showed up."

I had sat at her feet, wide eyed, engrossed in the story. "Were you scared, Aunt Daphne?"

"Oh, absolutely! But sometimes Ellie, you gotta stand up for what you believe in, even if it frightens you."

"And then what happened?" I had asked eagerly.

"Eventually the media got ahold of the story. Then the lawyers showed. After that, the logging company gave up. It wasn't worth all the bad press and the court fees. Just goes to show that you just gotta stick with your guns Ellie."

She was a breath of fresh air in the house I had grown up in. Someone I looked up to. Someone who wasn't afraid to be herself. Someone who allowed me to not feel suffocated by the constraints placed on me.

I grabbed my backpack and headed up to my room, excited. When Aunt Daphne came over, I wanted to show her all the songs that Kylie had shared with me. I knew she'd find them a hoot. I hopped on the family computer and began searching for all the songs I had heard.

That night was business as usual. My dad led us through grace and during dinner, my mom anxiously mentioned the news of Aunt Daphne's visit. My dad's lips tightened at this, and though he didn't say anything it was clear how he felt about my mom's sister. Not that his distaste for my aunt was a secret. The news that I had finally made a friend however, seemed to lighten the tension.

"Is this friend a girl?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes, Dad. She's a girl." I said, exasperated.

He gave me a stern look but decided to let it slide. Apparently, his concern that I wasn't fitting in overrode his need to correct my tone- just this once. His relief that I wasn't secretly seeing a boy also seemed to play a role.

"I'm glad you made a friend, Ellie. However, it's important to remember that while friends can lift you up they can just as easily drag you down. The company you keep is crucial to ensuring you stay on the right path." He said, gazing at me intently. I wondered if he was talking about Aunt Daphne's coming visit.

"Yes sir." I said, trying to put some sincerity into my tone.

He nodded again, looking appeased.

Afterwards we held our usual Friday night Bible study, but my mind was elsewhere. My thoughts had drifted to raspy voices, the whine of electric guitars, and the banging of metal drums.

Part 3.

Aunt Daphne's arrival was marked by the sound of an old Volkswagen bus puttering along on the street outside- sounding like an engine on its last legs. She hopped out of the sliding doors and waved at the bus before walking up our driveway.

I raced down the stairs to greet her at the front door. My father gave a disgruntled snort at my enthusiasm but he didn't say anything. Before the doorbell even rang, I flung open the door.

"Ellie-bellie!" she called, throwing out her arms. I wrapped her up in a bone crushing hug. She was wearing a flowing patchwork skirt and her hair was done up in a red bandanna. She smelled amazing- faintly of lavender and incense- or as my father would call it, "hippie smell".

"My, you've gotten tall," she said, holding me at arm's length. We were now around the same height.

My mom came to the door as well, smiling. "It's good to see you again Daph."

I stepped aside so they could embrace.

"You too, Jenny."

My father cleared his throat from the sofa. He had not gotten up.

"Daphne." He said, giving her a curt nod.

"Jim." She replied with a smile. She was used to his coolness. Unlike me though, she had never been intimidated by it. "I see you're still chipper as always."

I hid a grin as I tried to imagine my father ever being chipper. Even my mother had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide a small smile.

My father, on the other hand, was not amused.

"So, what is it you do for work these days?" he asked pointedly. He seemed determined to prove what "real responsibility" looked like. "Still running around with those hoodlums all day or have you found something a little more grounded?"

My mother stood off to the side wringing her hands nervously, eyeing the two of them. Aunt Daphne seemed unphased and met his gaze unflinchingly. "I give talks on sustainable activism and grassroots organizing. Sometimes I teach a workshop on environmental justice. Oil's a big topic."

My mother swallowed nervously and looked at my father.

His jaw tightened. "Must be nice not having to worry about stability or raising a family."

The tension was thick but Aunt Daphne merely smiled sweetly, "Must be. But for now, I mainly focus on not worrying about regret."

My mother cleared her throat and offered to help Aunt Daphne with her bags and I quickly followed suit. But inside I was buzzing. Like someone had finally opened a window and let in some fresh air.

Part 4.

Aunt Daphne laughed as she listened to the songs Kylie had shown me. We sat in front of the home computer watching YouTube music videos. She nodded along to the music, closing her eyes, and letting the beats flow around her. I watched her reaction eagerly.

"Ah, this takes me back." She said as

Freebird

came to a close. "You know your mother and I once snuck out to see Lynyrd Skynyrd in Dallas back in the day."

"No... my mom?" I said in disbelief. Aunt Daphne, I could believe, but my mother? She was such a goody two shoes. I couldn't imagine her ever stepping a toe out of line, let alone sneaking out to attend a rock concert.

"Oh yeah. Don't let that timid housewife act fool you. Back in our day, your mother was quite a rascal." Aunt Daphne grinned. "We were at a youth retreat near where they happened to be playing. We snuck out of the motel, traded our church clothes for leather jackets, and hitched a ride with some older girls with fake IDs."

She leaned back in her chair and smiled wistfully. "When your grandpa found out, we had the hiding of our lives. It was worth it though."

"Wow..." I breathed out. My respect for my mom had grown.

Aunt Daphne sighed. "But Jenny found your father and they settled down." She paused then continued with a wry smile. "Jim's a good man, but my God, he's stiff as a board. I've met drill sergeants more relaxed than him."

Rebel Girl

started to play and Aunt Daphne smiled. "Now

this

is a jam." She took a piece of paper, grabbed a pen from a cupholder, and jotted down the name of the song as well as a few others she liked.

I watched her, ecstatic that Aunt Daphne had liked the songs as well.

"And who did you say showed you these songs?"

I told her all about Kylie, describing her in detail, her punk attitude and her dyed hair- right down to the skull earrings and skateboard.

Her smile widened as she listened.

When I told her of how Kylie had stopped the bus Aunt Daphne threw her head back and let out another laugh. "She sounds like a real pistol. Kind of reminds me of myself at that age. I think I would've liked her."

The song ended.

Aunt Daphne glanced over at me. I sat there with a dopey expression on my face. "You know, this song reminds me of you."

"Me?" I said, shocked. I was a rule follower, through and through.

"Yup." She reached over to pinch my cheek affectionately. "You might not realize it now but you've got fire in you kiddo. You've got your mother's spunk. You're a rebel too; you just need someone like Kylie to bring it out of you, like your mother had me."

I felt warm inside at her words.

Saturday came and went too fast. On Sunday, the VW bus came trundling up the street once more. I was sad to see her go.