I turned the dial on the radio and let the speakers rattle as I drove along, the cool summer breeze blowing my hair back against the headrest.
On my way to school again, oh what a joy it is. Just one more year. 180 more days, until I'm finally out. Out for a year that it is. Then it's on to college. I've decided to make it of myself to go. To try and actually get somewhere, and get out of New York.
New York- the city that never sleeps, hometown, born and raised, paradise baby. Sure, it holds lots of memories for me and will always be a special place to me, but I think everyone needs a little change. After senior year I should try to get out. Hopefully all will go as planned, but for now I need to actually get to school on time for once.
Yeah, "for once". I'm not really the straight A, honor roll student. More of the, never turn in work, get high and have sex kind of student. Yeah, kind of blunt but that's how I am. I like getting straight to the point. Hitting the nail on the head right away. No bullshit.
Why am I this way? I don't know, maybe it's because of two parents who are two busy to give a rats ass, or from all the bad influences around me. For example- my friend Owen, great guy. Known him since forever, can trust him with anything. But, other people might think differently.
Maybe its the way we present ourselves. I mean, he's a tall lanky high school dropout who's covered in tattoos, and smells like old beer and cigarettes. And me, I'm not much better- dark clothes, a handful of tattoos, and a shitty reputation. I wouldn't blame anyone for looking down upon us. We are pretty shitty.
As I pull into the compact school parking lot I lower the dial on the radio and reach behind the seat for my bag. I reach into the front pocket and pull out a new pack of Virginia Slims- my favorite cigarette. If I'm gonna even make it through the front doors I'm gonna need something. As I pop the cigarette in my mouth and put the pack back, I reach into the glove compartment.
Where is the damn thing? I'm always losing lighters. I couldn't hold on to one if my life depended on it.
After about 5 minutes of breaking my back, in search of the little orange lighter I finally find it- along with a bottle of pills.
As I spark up the end of my stick, I read the date that's spread across the orange cylinder. Expires, August 18th- today. What the hell? I'm sure it won't kill me. I pop two in, throw my head back and swallow. As I bring my head back to level, I notice it's already time to be in homeroom. Fuck. Never fails for me to be late- every year!
I hurry up and gather all my textbooks from the backseat and shove them into my bag. I zip it up, turn the ignition off and step out. It's pretty nice out today, clear skies, cool breeze, sun shining. But knowing me I'll probably just head over to Owen's place after class and get high.
Sometimes I wish there was better things to do. Things to look forward to- someone to look forward to. But at the same time, I relish every single moment of being single. Of being your own person. Of being able to get anything you want- anyone you want.
I take my first step onto the concrete staircase that will soon be such an everyday thing once again. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and check the time. I have at least 5 minutes before I get into any real trouble.
I open the tattered industrial size double door and walk in. Ah, the smell of hell. Old chalk, erasers, and cheap perfume. I make my way to the front office and turn off my phone.
"Um, good morning, can I have a copy of my schedule?" As I reach the front desk, I notice a rather old lady sitting perched up behind it. "Name and grade please." Without making any eye contact the older woman responded. "Elizabeth Grant, grade 12."
