𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 || dallas winston's kid sister

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧

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....."you fuckin' kidding? of course, i won."

he sounded too proud and i remembered quickly that steve randle's ego was a lot bigger than his attitude; which alone was incredibly hard to beat.

"tough guy." i rose my eyebrows to steve's fucked up nose and glared at the blood that stained his white t-shirt and a little of his low-waisted jeans.

"you shoulda seen the other guy!" two-bit piped up from where pony had hung all of his weight on two's left shoulder. he pushed him off and messed up his greasy hair, causing pone to throw the smallest of fits in which he quickly got over.

"who was the other guy?" i asked in a sudden head rush, quite interested in the topic, mostly because i hadn't seen it in person.

"don't matter." steve shrugged off the tension in his shoulders and began walking down the road in which i instantly followed, catching up to his authority walk pretty quickly.

i ditched the subject and went to something else as soon as the boys had caught up to us. steve looked too pissed to talk and as much as i love dicking around, i thought i'd spare him at least some trouble today. the four of us strolled down the street with our bags on our backs, all right next to each other until two-bit hip-checked pony, who bumped right into me and steve who grunted at my hip hit his.

we all gave him a glare and he replied with a "it was too quiet. i had to do something." and then laughed too hysterically. i pulled back on my leather jacket.

my head began to hurt even more as we approached the curtis' house to waste the day away. my vision danced in front of me, and rubbing my eyes couldn't seem to get everything to stop moving, except the mascara that was now all over my eyes. the signs of withdrawal were obvious and i clenched my jaw to try and stop the thumping in my throat.

the guys crashed on the couch as soon as we walked through the door and i headed upstairs with my bag without saying a word before they could see my flustered face.

i locked the door of pony and sodas room behind me and tossed my bag on the unmade bed, unzipping the small pouch and grabbing the case of a deck of cards. i dug my fingers through the inside and pulled out a small baggie, throwing the package on the bed. my shaky hands rummaged through the plastic and pulled out a few pills, settling them in the palm of my hand. my breath hitched as i started to get a bit light-headed. i moved the tablets around with my thumb as stressful tears clouded my vision. grabbing the blue adderall capsule along with small white circular pill, i placed the second identical white pill back in the bag. crumpling it up, i grabbed the card case and shoved it back in, carefully smushing it back and hiding it under some hair ties in my bag, i zipped it back up.

my previous broken ribs started me on the white pill prescription, and ever since i ran out, i've been buying it off some kid at the drive-in downtown. not a clue where jeremy gets it from and i'm not sure i ever want to ask. he hooks me up with adderall for focus since i haven't been back to an actual doctor since i was probably ten years old.... im still quite positive that this adhd bitch is still with me, even after six long and dreadful years.