The Bad Boy's Best Friend (Rewritten)

Bad Boy's Best Friend in Detention

For something as complex as time it sure did move slow at the worst moments. As I sat in Mr. Alexa's classroom long after the final school bell, the secondhand seemed to lag.

Mr. Alexa practically whistled as he wrote me a delinquent form and gave me an hour detention. So there I was in his empty classroom grading the test I got a zero on. Apparently this was supposed to make me feel shitty about having my test shredded (yes shredded-- with a shredder and he shredded it in front of the class), but the real punishment was the hand cramps.

"When you're done with grading that class, come up and get the next class."

I grunted in response. I circled a seventy-eight on a test and tossed it in the "finished" pile. I clicked my pen, ready to grade but hesitated at the name.

In small but neat letters it read:

Devin Morris

I touched my finger to the name, watching it smudge under my skin.

"You have Devin Morris as a student?" I asked.

"Do you see his test in that pile?" He looked up at me from his glasses.

"Yes."

"Then that answers your question dummy." He rolled his eyes and went back to typing on his laptop.

I crossed my arms on my chest and raised my eyebrows at his remark, "I could get you fired for that George." I called him by his first name and watched as he sat up and looked me in the eye.

"Ever heard of tenure Miss Dixon, I'm practically unstoppable. Maybe you want to continue grading those papers or I'll be more than glad to call your father up," He threatened.

And it worked.

"Yeah thought so."

I slouched in my seat and sighed in defeat. My father was a politician and was running for town mayor and would have my head if anything I did soiled his campaign. He was the perfect 'All American Politician', million dollar smile, baby kisser, and corrupt.

I circled a hundred percent on Devin's test and peeled off the first sticker off the sticker sheet and placed it on his test.

Typical.

A timer beeped signalling the end of my prison sentence and I quickly grabbed my bag and left without a farewell to Mr. Alexa. I slammed the door too.

Fuck you George.

"Where have you been?" My father waited at the door for me, his thick eyebrows creating a crease in his face. He looked worn out, eyes glazed over, probably had a meeting today. A glass of brandy was in his hand and his suit jacket in the other.

"I had to meet with my guidance counselor," I lied. "How was work?"

"Fine." My father loosened his tie and gulped the rest of his alcohol, ice and all. And like usual he disappeared into the depths of his home office.

And as usual I snuck past his office to get the Brandy bottle he usually left on a shelf. I grabbed my own glass and filled it till it overflowed, I licked the droplets running down my arm and went to my bedroom.

I drank while watching TV, hiccupping as the images dilated and transformed. My head felt heavy and I laid down on my bed with the glass on my stomach.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I rolled over to open the new message.

Can we talk?

I gulped the rest of my drink, now having the courage to respond.

tomorrow after school

I'll see you tomorrow then.

What the hell did that mean? I tried not to think too hard about it. That would make things worse and the brandy was already making my head pound. A pile of envelopes beside me caught my eye. My father had left my mail. I sifted through it and threw it into the waste basket.

They were college letters, all saying the same things: Have you chosen what your major yet?! We are interested in you! College applications are out!

It was all making my head spin, I had no idea what I wanted to do in life but I had a few months to decide my lifelong career and purpose.

Christ.

.

"Jayne!" I felt my body shake and my eyes cracked open. The bright lights of my bedroom caused me to wince. "Jayne!"

I sat up and rubbed my eyes to clear my vision, across from me was my mother. She was rubbing her pregnant belly and frowned at me, her eyebrows creasing where her bindi used to lay.

"You can't be drinking your father's alcohol! Look at you you're a mess Jayne," She scolded me in a hushed whisper, as if my father could hear through ceilings. It wasn't the first time she had walked in on me like that.

I nodded weakly. Seeing my mother made me feel like crying. Her long Indian hair was pulled up into a ponytail and her brown skin glowed under the light.

I watched as she pulled out a single cigarette that was held between her ear and lit it. She blew smoke into my space and I coughed.

"Mom he wants to talk to me." My mother closed her eyes, taking a drag as if thinking out her response.

"You can't keep running away from something you want." My mother took a puff from her cigarette and rubbed her protruding baby bump.

I sat with my knees to my cheeks, my eyes stinging from the truth, rain, and smoke. I should've never came back.

"I don't want him. He doesn't even want me."

"What do you know, you're a child."

She pressed her cigarette into the wood of my bed frame, she walked towards my open window and flung it into the night.

"Sleep." She shut the light off pulled the door closed behind her, leaving me in complete darkness.

Hey guys!
I'm moving into a new house in a few weeks so I need to pack (barely started)

Any tips?

Also as I was writing this I was thinking about telling you guys that drinking and smoking (especially while pregnant) is a bad habit and that you shouldn't do those and I do not mean to romanticize it. It's just integral in the character development.

If you or if you know any one with a substance abuse problem then there are hotlines all around the world and don't be too shy to message me.

Love you guys

(Don't forget to check out Salmon and Aicha!)