Just Hold A Smile

Minnesota, 1997

 My parents were passed out on the couch when I got back from school, most likely from a combination of drugs and alcohol based on the bottles and needles that were lying around. The whole place reeked of alcohol. I ignored the two lying on the couch and locked myself into my room. I figured they wouldn't be up for a while. Maybe they'd finally killed themselves from overdosing. Wouldn't that be something? Maybe, when the inevitable miserable Minnesota winter came, they would shoot up outside and freeze to death. Maybe they'd be drunk and driving down an icy road and end up hitting an electric pole. With them dead, that'd be one less thing for me to worry about and one less thing for the people of this goddamn town to hate me for. Or it would just add more fuel to the fire. Dead drugged up parents would just pave the way for more bullying from other kids and pitiful looks from adults.

I hated living in this stupid town where everyone knew everyone. If we lived in a bigger city, maybe Minneapolis or St. Paul, no one would even spare a glance my way. Johanna and Ramsay Evans would just be two other faces on the streets looking for drugs. I'd heard drugs were bad up there. Maybe no one would even give me a second glance for smelling like alcohol.

Even if the fantasies were completely wrong, they were still nice to consider. A life away from all of the drugs would only ever be a fantasy, though. At least, until I eventually moved out on my own.

I pulled out The Great Gatsby, the book my class was reading in English. I hated it. But I also hated reading. I had never found a book that I actually enjoyed. This one I thought was boring. The teacher said these books could be applied to our lives. So far, I had found nothing that related me to Jay, Daisy, Nick, or even Tom. Except, maybe the fact that I was convinced Nick was gay and in love with Jay Gatsby. Even then, the comparisons between me and Nick didn't really exist.

My friend An so far enjoyed the book. I'd just have her explain the most important parts to me for when we took the test. She liked reading more than I did, anyway. Somehow, she actually found joy in reading books. It amazed me that some people could enjoy reading and did it as a hobby. I could never.

Tink

I looked to the right at my window. I watched another rock, pebble, hit it. It was such a stupid way to get my attention that I had to roll my eyes at it. But I knew that An didn't want to come knocking at the door. She didn't want to bother my parents. They didn't like her very much. It still struck me as funny. It was such an eighties thing to do. I wondered if she would next try to make me climb out my window using bed sheets next. I snickered at that thought. With how light my bed was, I'd probably drag it right out the window with me.

Again, I crept past my parents, who were still away from the land of the conscious. I figured they'd be out for a while. They might still be out by the time I got back. It wasn't unprecedented, so it wasn't out of the question. In fact, I hoped they were still knocked out when I got back.

An readied her arm to throw another rock. This one actually was rock-sized.

"Woah, you planning to pay for my broken window when you throw that?"

The suddenness scared her. The rock, instead of going to the window, came toward me. Thank God it missed.

"What the fuck, An?"

"Don't scare me like that!"

"Scare you? You're throwing big ass rocks at my window!" I threw a rock back at her.

"They were pebbles. I didn't think you were hearing me, so I thought you might pay attention to a rock hitting you in the head," she reasoned. What an excuse.

I loved her for her reasonings to these things. An truly was a force of chaos. One wouldn't expect it looking at her, though. She was small and unassuming. But truly, a force of chaos.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "Nothing much. I'm bored. Come do something with me."

"What are we gonna do?"

An shrugged again. "I don't know. Walk through the woods and hope a serial killer doesn't get to us?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

A serial killer never did find us.

Only a cop asking us to please get off of private property.