The Graduating Class of '09 (Class of '09 x Male Reader Insert)

Bonus Chapter 11 - 'Chance'

A/N - "There will be times where you'll have many chances in life. Make sure to use them in pivotal moments because you won't be using them again after death."

- Call for a Ride Route -

Jecka: "Why does the safest option seem the most traumatizing?"

Emily: "What's your dad gonna be mad about?"

Jecka: "He really hates it when I go out and get fucked up."

Emily: "Can you play sober?"

Jecka: "Is that on Playstation?"

Emily: "What if you just made up a story that puts the blame on someone else?"

Jecka: "Like someone forced me to drink?"

Emily: "Yeah like that."

Jecka: "But why?"

Emily: "Oh maybe you entered an apple-juice drinking contest and they spiked it with whiskey."

Jecka: "Okay I'll call him with that." With a heavy sigh, the emo hesitantly grabbed her phone and dialed her dad's number. The line rang, but there was no answer—he hadn't picked up. She called a second time, frustrated that she was met with a voicemail again.

Jecka: "My dad let me go to fucking voicemail!"

Emily: "What an asshole."

Jecka: "I know, he hates me." Her anger subsiding, with sorrow taking its place.

Emily: "If it makes you feel any better I hope your dad fucking kills himself." Jecka agreed, "Me too." The party was electric, pulsing with energy as the bass from The Real Slim Shady reverberated through the room. The stereo blared with iconic beats, its speakers vibrating under the weight of every word that Eminem spit. Guests crowded the floor, their bodies moving to the rhythm, some rapping along to the lyrics, others just caught up in the contagious energy. The flicker of strobe lights created a kaleidoscope of color, casting quick shadows on the faces of partygoers. Laughter and chatter mixed seamlessly with the sharp, rhythmic verses, creating a scene that felt alive and chaotic, as if the world outside had temporarily ceased to exist. The preppy-turned-emo no longer felt like this party was worth it.

Emily: "So what are you gonna do?" The rebuilt frustration returned from Jecka's vocal chords as she hollered, "Screw this, I'm driving home!" Jecka stomped toward the exit. Emily shrugged before snacking down on another McDonald's french fry, she was truly lovin' it.

- Future First Route -

A/N: "We're kind of jumping back in time here toward early school year in autumn, the time plots are all over the place."

Jecka's meticulous fingernails dug into her palms, pressing down on them almost hard enough for the nail to break through her skin and draw blood. She looked back at her friend and with a heavy heart, "Sorry, it's just.." Her voice faltered, the self-confidence she had tried so hard to muster slipping away. Nicole's face, nearly contorted into a scowl, betrayed her disappointment—hurt that her friend had chosen school over her yet again.

Nicole: "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Jecka: "You said it wasn't an ultimatum!" Jecka shot back trying to defend herself from Nicole's verbal bullet roulette.

Nicole: "I'm still allowed to be mad!" Jecka's facial expression only dipped back into a frown. Her eyes adverted to the marble floor of the school hallway. 

Jecka: "I can't screw up my life over a Marilyn Manson concert."

Nicole: "If it was Ryan Sheckler, you'd go." Nicole, adamant that Jecka had a preference for her invitation, as if she were nitpicky. The Swedish heritage girl began to feel annoyed by Nicole accusations as she crossed her arms, staring back at her sociopathic friend.