My Favorite Everything

Chapter One

A prescription bottle half full of Xanax weighed down the pocket of Frankie Harris' flannel. He hadn't noticed it until the sound of pills clinking against a plastic container trickled into his ears. Curiously reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the orange casing, eyes growing wide.

    "What the hell?"

On his walk to school, Frankie eyed his breezy Connecticut neighborhood. The panicked seventeen-year-old scanned for any nearby dog walkers or nosey housewives. Upon realizing that he was alone, Frankie adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and squinted at the medication's title.

    ALPRAZOLAM

Quickly shoving the bottle back into his pocket, his mind flooded with worry. His mother, Denise Harris, was heavily against strong and potentially addictive medication, even after surgery or with a doctor's recommendation. She became a single mother after her husband had abandoned her while Frankie was still in diapers. Denise grew to be a shrill woman afterward, for the trust that she had implanted within her family and friendships were destroyed.

Frankie was confident that the pills weren't his mother's, but he feared for what she would do if she discovered them. His worries didn't last long once the mile walk to Crossley High School neared to an end. The face of a friendly culprit materialized in his brain --Wilder Tocin, one of his closest friends, was an arrogant seventeen-year-old who fit the mold perfectly. With messy dark brown hair and bronze-colored skin, he was a mixture of his Hispanic father and white mother. Despite his semi well-kept appearance, he was quite known for regularly experimenting with whatever he could get his hands on.

Frankie, however, had pale skin dotted with freckles, and messy brown curls. His eyes were always filled with blue worry, even more so now that the pill bottle bumped against his bony hip with every step. Turning the sidewalk corner, he faced his high school's looming presence. Frankie's heart started to race as he felt the outline of the container once more. Suddenly, a hand tugged at his shoulder, causing his stomach to drop. He quickly spun around.

"Oh my god," he breathed, letting out a sigh of relief. "I'm so beyond pissed at you right now."

    Wilder met Frankie's glare with a cheeky grin.

    "What'd I do this time, Frank?" he asked as he began to start towards Crossley High. The boy thrust his hand into his pocket and shoved the prescription in Wilder's face.

    "Why was this in my shirt? You know I'd be suspended from the tennis team and school if this was found! Come on, man," he said, as Wilder snatched the pills from Frankie's grasp.

    "You're so annoying. They aren't even mine."

Frankie raised an eyebrow as the pair walked up the steps and into school. Recognizing his expression, Wilder cast an all-knowing smirk towards his friend.

    "And I'm not going to tell you, so don't even think about asking."

    Stopping abruptly in the middle of the main hallway, Frankie yanked Wilder to a halt. "That's funny, 'cause they were in my stuff, so yeah, I think you're gonna tell me who they belong to."

Stretching his arm, Wilder scratched the back of his head. "Okay, chill out, Frankie. Would it really be the end of the world if you got kicked off of the tennis team?"

    "Stop changing the subject! This isn't about tennis. Why were these drugs in my stuff, and who put them there? You'd be the one to know, Wiley, so just spit it out already."

    The dark-haired boy shot a glare towards Frankie. "I told you not to call me that, asshat." Wilder refused to admit to himself that the nickname didn't bother him as much as he led on. He tried to keep a slight distance between himself and Frankie ever since a certain incident had occurred during the summer after their sophomore year.