glue : michael clifford

chapter two

I'm coming over I text my friend, Izzy, right as I pull into her driveway. 12 years of friendship later and we're practically married.

I walk in the front door (which I am always telling her to lock), and close it behind me.

"I'm up here!" Izzy shouts from what sounds like her bedroom upstairs.

I enter her room to find her sitting on her bed, foils in her hair and the smell of hair-dye filling the space. I sit down on the bed beside her.

"Hey, Gen. I thought you were at Luke's house?" she absentmindedly asks me, checking her reflection in the vanity mirror across from her bed.

"He had to, um, go somewhere," I lie, picking at my fingernails, avoiding eye contact.

"Gen, I love you, but I've told you over a million times, you are a terrible liar," she chuckles as she moves around the foils in her hair.

My cheeks darken. "Fine. I told him my mom wanted to see me and left. It's really not a big deal."

"Why'd you leave?"

I sigh. "You're so nosey sometimes."

She giggles. "I know."

"Luke was already writing his college essay and he thinks I'm going to Yale with him - and it's not like I don't want to but there's other schools - and I still haven't told my parents about art school and-"

"Gen, breathe," Izzy says, looking at how flustered I am.

I take a few deep breaths before continuing. "I just don't want to think about college yet."

Izzy pauses for a minute. "You like art, right?"

"Yeah, I love it."

"And you're like fucking amazing at painting, right?"

"I mean I guess I'm pretty good..."

"Right. So I say fuck everyone else and go with what you love and what you're good at."

"I just wish it was that easy," I chuckle, looking down at the floor.

"Why can't it be?"

I pause. "Luke really wants to go to Yale together and I honestly don't know if I have the heart to tell him no. And my mother expects me to be just like Bianca and go to an Ivy League school and become a fucking doctor who travels the world." Bianca is my older sister, who's married and very rich and very successful.

Izzy laughs.

"Why are you laughing?" I ask, annoyed.

"You care way too much about what others think."

"How can I not?"

"Look, are you planning on marrying Luke?"

"Uh I don't know I'm only 17-"

"Exactly. Then you guys don't need to go to the same college. Do you and Bianca have the same DNA?"

"No."

"Then your mother shouldn't expect you to be exactly like her. Problem solved."

"Have you ever met my mother?"

"Sadly." Izzy says seriously before we both burst out laughing. "I'm kidding. But, you're almost 18, you need to start making decisions about your own life."

"Thanks Izzy," I sigh, pulling her into a hug. "You always know exactly what to say."

"I know, I'm amazing. Now come help me take these things out of my hair." She grabs my hand and drags me into the bathroom inside of her room.

❀

An hour, stained hands, and 6 ruined towels later, Izzy's hair is done.

"The purple looks a bit red, doesn't it?" she asks me for about the hundredth time while looking in the mirror.

"No, Iz. It looks purple," I sigh, absentmindedly scrolling through my social media.

"I knew I should've done pink," she mutters plopping down on the bed beside me with a sigh.

"Izzy, your hair looks great," I reassure her before checking the time. "Now, I really have to get going." I stand up from her bed and gather my things.

"Whyyyyy," she whines.

"I have art class, remember."

"Loser." She throws a pillow at my arm.

"Bye, Izzy." I roll my eyes, throwing the pillow back on her bed.

"Bye, Gen."

I exit Izzy's house and enter my car. I can do this, I think to myself. This is my life and I can make my own choices. Screw everyone else.

I turn the key in the ignition and begin driving. For the first time in a long time it felt as if everything would work out.