Addictive

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He was so utterly addictive. I was hooked on him the same way he was hooked on the drugs I guess. But he was addictive; there was no end to my desire to be near him. My heart would beat rapidly in my chest at the sight of him, but he wasn’t anything special to look at really. But he saw me. He saw me, and he understood me, even without words. He was a storm I never saw coming, a hurricane that moved swiftly and quickly into my life, consuming and destroying all in its path. But when I was in the eye of that hurricane, in the calm of the storm no matter how short my time there, it was perfectly addicting.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the basic statistics. Name: Cora Lynn Fisher, gross I know. Age: 17. Gender: Dammit my name is Cora, are you retarded or something? Height: Christ, I don’t measure myself on a daily basis, maybe 5’5. I’m average height. Weight: Roughly 120 pounds. Give or take a few pounds depending on the day. Hair Color: Also depends on the day, although most reliably a shade of bright and unnatural red. Eye Color: Hazel.

So there you go, now you know me. Or, at least if you’re like all the preppy Barbie wannabes at my high school, you think you know me. I mean geez, they take one look at me and suddenly they have the right to put a label on me. Douchebags. Everywhere. Thus far high school has been the lowlight of my existence.

Senior year started off pretty normal. My summer leading up to it was rather uneventful. Everything was the same as it had always been. Which meant that mom was still living with a girlfriend of hers because she and daddy dearest just couldn’t get a grip on the whole ‘marriage’ thing. Which meant I spent a week either with mommy and Dianna at Dianna’s condo or with dad at our house. Which meant I had about three friends and which meant, sadly, Robert Ian and I were still broken up.

How to describe Robert Ian besides my perfect mate, my other half, the peanut to my butter? I may be over doing it slightly, but he was wonderful. We had a class together first semester junior year and hit it off instantly. Robert was s a preppy boy from a rather wealthy family. He was into all the music they played on the radio and rap. He was perhaps as deep as those plastic pools you buy for your children to play in, but he was gorgeous and wanted to date me. How could I resist?

To my dismay, however, he dumped me near the end of the year for another girl. I tried not to take it personally and move on with my life, which might have been easier if I had a distraction. I was not so lucky. So I spent the summer wondering when Robert would change his mind and when he didn’t I reminded myself in a year I’d be off with attractive, intellectual boys at college.

So needless to say the first day of senior year started off boring. Robert and his new girl were giving each other tongue baths outside my first period class. I had no friends in second and sat beside a boy with the worst body odor in the history of ever in third.

I was relieved to find my three best friends shared lunch with me. Lexi was sitting at a table by herself, thumbing through a copy of Beowulf, Spark Notes edition. Her platinum blonde hair was tucked inside her beanie, and her black nails were long and claw-like. She grinned and meowed, yes meowed, across the cafeteria when she saw me.

“Is it hot in here or is it just you?” She said with a smirk as I slid into the seat beside her. “Daisy and Georgina are getting food.” She pointed to the line behind us.

Lexi had been my best friend since middle school when we both bonded over our love for the band Brand New and our hatred for wannabes, fakes, and moms who sucked and being moms. Lexi’s mom left her when she was eleven. Lexi’s dad died when she was six. So Lexi lived with her grandparents until she was fifteen then started living on her own in her mom’s old house. Gramps sent her a check monthly since he was loaded and she not once complained about raising herself.