Other side of paradise (Jason Dean x reader)

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

You made your way inside the house, ready to start your weekend.  Your sister had come home far earlier, but you wanted to stay and watch some of the school's basketball game with Martha.  You were sitting about three feet apart, but McNamara was a cheerleader.  She was so high up in the pyramid that you and Martha panicked, and you fled the scene.

So, having nothing better to do, you just went home.  Making your way to the living room, you saw Veronica standing in front of the television, Ms. Flemming's cafeteria chaos was playing on a news channel.  Your parents were sitting on the couch, and you stood behind them, watching Veronica as she stared at the screen intently.

"The Westerberg suicides were tough on all of us.  But we shared the pain of losing three very popular souls.  I came into the cafeteria and asked them to hold hands-"

"Isn't that the flake we met at the open house," your father asked.

"In a burst of cleansing syncronisity, TV cameras happened upon our path, witnessing the spontaneous outpouring of emotions," TV Flemming explained.

"'Cleansing syncronisity,'" Veronica questioned.  "'Outpouring of emotions?'"

"There's Heather," your dad pointed out.

Low and behold, Heather Duke was seen dancing around like you had been.  Then McNamara joined in.

"And there's Heather," your mom said happily.  "Where were you two?"

"Before any teenager decides to kill himself," TV Flemming began.  "There are some facts he needs to know.  After all, this decision effects all of us.  And there's only one chance to get it right."

Veronica couldn't stand the bullshit her teacher was spewing anymore.  She turned off the television, and your parents immediately began to complain.

"Turn that back on," your mom demanded.

"Can't you see?  These little programs are eating up suicide with a spoon," Veronica complained.  "They're making it seem like a cool thing to do!"

"Are you telling me this is not a time for troubled youth?  And stand up straight," your mother complained.

"All we want is to be treated like human beings.  Not experimented on like guinea pigs, or patronized like bunny rabbits," Veronica said angrily.

"Hey!  I do not patronize bunny rabbits," your father shouted.

You stayed quiet during the ordeal, not wanting either party mad at you.  And you wanted to walk away, but you knew both parties would get mad if you left now.

"Treated like a human being," you mom began.  "Is that what you said little miss 'Voice-Of-A-Generation?'  How do you think adults act with other adults?  Do you think it's all just a game of doubles tennis?!  When teenagers complain that they want to be treated like human beings, usually it's because they are being treated like human beings!"

You were shocked.  You weren't sure the last time your mother or father shouted, let alone at you or Veronica.  Maybe they were finally changing for the better and going to act like actual parents.

"Well, looks like I picked the wrong time to be a human being," Veronica seethed.

"You'll live," your mother told her.

Then, she smiled, filling the room with an uncomfortable silence.

"Want some pate," she asked nicely, as if the conversation never happened.

So much for the idea of them changing.  Before anyone could say anything or Veronica could storm off, the front door flew open.  Heather Duke entered, a big smile on her face.  She made her way over to Veronica like a woman on a mission, after giving you a curt wave of course.

"Hello everybody, the door was open," Duke informed you.  "Veronica, have you heard?  We were doing Chinese at the food fair when it comes over the radio that Martha Dumptruck tried to buy the farm!  She bellyflopped in front of a car wearing a suicide note!"

You quickly grabbed on to the couch to stay upright.  Martha tried to kill herself?  Why?!  God, you wanted to fall over.  Your knees felt like jello, and you could feel your grip on the couch weakening.

"Wha... is she dead," you asked quickly.

"No, that's the punchline!  She's alive and in stable condition.  Just another case of the geek trying to imitate the popular people and failing miserably," Heather shrugged.  "Is that pate?"

She turned to face Veronica again, only to get slapped.  Your sister slapped Heather!  Holy shit, you weren't expecting that.  Duke held her hand up to her cheek, and you rushed off to the kitchen to get her something like an ice pack or frozen peas.  Something that could help ease the pain.  You found a frozen ice pack bag that was supposed to keep small coolers... well... cool.

You handed it to Duke, and Veronica began to drag her upstairs.  Duke began to protest, until Veronica reminded her that their favorite podcast was about to start.  Then the two were practically running up the stairs.  Once they were gone, you ran outside to start going to the hospital.  You were going to need to walk there, since you didn't know how to drive.

Although, let's be honest, you weren't walking.  You were sprinting.