Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
<•>
Gabe, skateboard tucked under his arm, walks by himself downstairs to go to shop class. He bounces his way down the stairs, surprising as it's nine in the morning, and walks down the hall, then turns toward the gym, shop, and floral class.
He walks down the dimly lit hallway, taking his sweet ass time as he doesn't want to continue working on making a TV dinner table at the moment. He would've skipped, but he didn't want the school calling his dad about too many unexcused absences.
Speaking of his dad, Gabe hadn't seen him since school started. He hadn't heard a word, nothing. He'd been spending time at work and saving up to get his own place to not have to crash on the couches of Motorz every night. He'd occasionally sneak in to steal more of his belongings back, but he'd never laid eyes on his father.
He decides to walk around the long way, going down the hall toward the downstairs cafeteria to then turn left into the big gymnasium doors. As he nears the corner to open the hall up, he abruptly stops, hearing people talking about something not-so-school-friendly.
He didn't even realize their voices, but he decided to investigate before making himself known to these druggies selling and purchasing acid, apparently.
Ew, Fuckshit.
He hides behind the wall, wondering what to do. For one, he didn't want to be late, for two, he also didn't want to interrupt some drug deal, three, he kind of did because drugs aren't cool. Fuckshit should've known that.
Gabe lightly sighs to himself before revealing himself, making himself known to the curly haired blonde he once called his friend.
"Dude, can you maybe not drive my little brother home drugged out as possible?"
The blonde quickly looks back at Gabe, his plug, a tall, black haired boy, does the same. Gabriel catches a good look at said plug, short, dark hair, small ovular glasses, and a face littered with cystic acne. No offense, but he looked a little scary, even if you took the acne away. His face was born to be one of a plug.
Fuckshit's shoulders slump as he rolls his eyes, his head tilting back. "Oh my Godddd..."
"Oh my God!" Gabe mocks, raising his voice. "Shut up. Stop being a self-centered prick for three seconds. I'm not letting anyone else try and die while you're at the wheel."
"Shut the fuck up, Miles. I'm not gonna shoot up on acid in the middle of school and drive that lil boy home-"
"Don't you ever call me that! We set a pretty thick line between us, including that shit. Do fucking not!" Gabe yells.
The plug steps away, patting Fuckshit on the shoulder before walking off, not wanting to get in a fight.
Fuckshit raises his hands in defense, "You're so fucking moody these days, God. Lighten the fuck up."
