The next day Jeordie didn't turn up to school.
Or the next day.
Or the next.
When Friday came in he was a wreck. His eyes weren't the mischievous, full of life, man he was when I was with him. His eyes were now dull and lifeless. The clothes he was wearing were stained and old and his lip was scabbed over where it had burst.
As he dropped his bag and sat next to me in his assigned seat his gaze avoided me. Anger was boiling in my veins and my bruises hurt. I was getting annoyed.
"So what did you achieve from getting me beaten up?" I asked after twenty minutes of sitting in silence.
"Please stop." He said putting his head to the desk.
"You listened to me tell you how he's beaten me up before yet you kept going. I want to know why. And I want to know how you can deal with that sort of conscience." I spat.
"I have no conscience." He muttered.
"I got beaten and left broken on the floor. Do you really think I'll let this go?"
"Look," Jeordie sat up and looked at me, "I needed the drugs to help me deal with shit. Jordan offered me the money. I took it."
"You're a fucking dirty drug addict." I spat. I didn't mean it, of course, I'd tried drugs before but my anger was getting to me.
"I am not a drug addict." Jeordie raised his voice slightly, causing a few people to turn around.
"Look at yourself. You'll do anything for drugs. You look like shit. You are addicted to drugs. You said yourself you needed the drugs." I raised my voice equally as loud.
Suddenly Jeordie stood up flipping the desk, he grabbed his bag and walked out the door.
At that moment the bell rang for break and I went straight out after Jeordie. "Get back here drug addict." I taunted. If I kept shouting at him he'd just go, I wanted him to turn on me. I wanted Jeordie to get so wound up he gets to the point where he's about to hit me.
My mum, my real mum, was a drug addict. She went the same way as Jeordie, making careless decisions for drugs. Someone needed to catch her before she fell, but I was young and dad was packing our bags taking us away. Dad took us away and got full custody. A year later mum committed suicide.
I was not letting Jeordie break.
"I'm not a drug addict." Jeordie said as he walked outside.
"You are a drug addict. Drug addict." I taunted.
Outside it was quiet, Jeordie and I were alone.
"Stop it." Jeordie said.
"You're a pathetic, selfish drug addict." I caught up with him. I now began shoving him.
"I'm not!" He shouted getting close to my face.
"Hit me." I said. Inside I was trembling.
"No." He stated.
"Hit me. Drug addict." I said the last sentence in a whisper.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked.
"Because I've seen this before. Okay?"
"Where in your perfect world have you seen this?" Jeordie threw his head back in anger.
"My perfect world. My perfect world where my drug addict, cheating, abusive boyfriend controls my life. My perfect world where my mum got hooked on drugs. My perfect world where my mum committed suicide. My perfect world where I get taken away from all my friends and the remains of my family to be put in a school where the first person I begin to trust gets me beaten up by my perfect fucking boyfriend. Please, tell me the bad part of my perfect. Fucking. World." I sighed.
Jeordie went silent. He either didn't know what to say, deciding whether to leave or regretting everything he ever did to me. I hoped it was the last one. Instead, he replied with, "Just stay the fuck out of my life." Before walking away.
Well, my plan probably just put him on more drugs. I just wanted Jeordie to feel something. Anything. But instead he's going to drown his pain in a needle, a line, or a joint. I didn't want to see anyone else die from drugs. But there was nothing I could do. I already felt asthough Jeordie was a lost cause.
After our argument I didn't see Jeordie for the rest of the day. After school I invited Taylor and my recently made friends for a small "gathering" as Georgia and dad went out for a night to "have some time alone".
I didn't get it, dad met Georgia when she travelled to England for a business trip where she attended a meeting with dad. After two weeks of hotel rooms dad told me about her. Three years later here I was. Moved all the way across the world to live with a woman - and her son and daughter - I'd never met.
Georgia and dad had gone when I got home. Ryan was spread out across the sofa and Libby had gone to a friends house.
"Hey, tonights when you get friends and get laid. Invite all your friends over." Ryan announced as soon as I stepped through the door.
"Yeah I'll get my friends over but giving the situation with my boyfriend, sex isn't happening." I smirked. I sat on the chair and turned the tv to a rock music channel.
"I was watching that." Ryan muttered.
"Now you're not." I laughed.
"What's the deal with your boyfriend?" Ryan asked.
"Oh just, well if you see anyone like this," I pulled out my phone and found a picture of Jordan, "Let me know or kick him out but be careful about it, okay?"
"Why should I be careful? I work out." Ryan shrugged.
"So does he and he's on the rugby team and he's not afraid to throw punches."
"Rugby? Fuck, I used to play football." Ryan announced proudly.
The thought of football gave me pictures of a people running round a field kicking a ball and pointlessly flopping to the floor like fish on dry land.
"Yeah just be careful." I rolled my eyes.
Taylor turned up about 10 minutes later. Then a few of Ryans friends who helped move the ornaments preparing for the party. I went for a shower while Taylor picked an outfit for me she was going to find one which would make everyone turn to me.
Once I got out the shower I was greeted by fishnet stockings, a mini skater skirt and a corset. It was amazing but the corset wasn't mine. I guessed it was Taylors and put the outfit on and left my hair to dry naturally ready for the party and heavy eye makeup. With high lace up heels I locked my door and went downstairs.
Wow.
