Emergency Medical Dad

XI: March 15th, past

lmao so i just went to my last day ever of high school and then followed it with prom and i literally am about to pass tf out but here's a celebratory chapter for surviving high school

JESSIE

March 15th, eight years prior

To say that I was far past infatuated with Jorgen Hadley would be an understatement. It was a damn cat fight within the grade over him and he didn't even seem to notice.

"No, listen," Emma Averly was a senior. "He's mine. He always has been. We literally talk all the time, it's so stupid that you think you can get in on that."

My eyes were watching the door we were about to enter, knowing he was going to exit within the minute.

"Emma you can't just lay a claim to someone like that, it's not right and it's not at all true, either, I haven't seen him send a spare glance in your direction ever, me on the other hand," Lila was arguing with Emma, they'd been arguing for weeks.

The door opened, heavy boot exiting first before a long leg and-

"Hey, Jess," I looked up. "I was wondering if you wanted to work on the bio lab in the library after school."

"Uhm," I peeped around him, watching Jorgen's shoulders escape down the hall, unknown to Emma and Lila who were still bickering. "Hi Evan, and maybe, I've got-" I leaned out further, watching Jorgen turn the corner, curly hair getting longer by the passing day. He didn't seem to care about the administration anymore, he was him all the way through and they just had to deal with that. I envied it.

"Who are you staring at?" He let out a little laugh, glancing behind me. "It's that Hadley boy right? All of you girls won't shut up about him. I don't get what you like about him. He's a degenerate. Have you seen his friends?"

I had, in fact, seen his friends.

"All of them. I heard they run a drug business and clean needles for people so they don't have to buy any more and can be cheap about it."

"Um," I cleared my throat, "I can work on the bio today, I've just got a meeting after school so I'll be a little late."

"For what?" He had pressed, mousy brown hair falling into his eyes.

"Uh," I folded my hands over the binder I was holding in front of me, rocking back onto my heels. "Frisbee."

"You're still on the frisbee team?" He made a face at that, clearly not fond of it. "C'mon there's better ways to do sports, aren't you in cross country in the fall? You can keep running in the spring, you know that?"

I had bit down my words. I liked frisbee. I liked frisbee and there was a cherry on top.

Frisbee was a ton of fun. It never wasn't. I liked the team and I liked the break it gave me from my friends and I liked getting a little muddy in the spring and I liked that it wasn't enough of a sport that my parents got worried. I liked being in shape and I liked pulling my hair up and I liked the small team and the break. I liked that it was a break from school and from homework and from studying and from people expecting things from me. I could be awful at frisbee. I was awful at frisbee. I was horrible at frisbee.

And there was a cherry on top. A cherry so sweet it made frisbee the one thing I was looking forward to about the end of junior year. I could do without the finals and without the tension in my friend group and the prospect of another summer at the community pool where I'd have to deal with being in a swimsuit every day despite my discomfort in it and worry about wearing adequate sunscreen for my crappy Irish skin. I didn't want time to move forward that year but frisbee.