Death is a Three Letter Word

Chapter 4

"I cannot believe you did that!" I gave a fake laugh as we walked towards the car. Neither can I, I thought to myself. Julz and I had just had lunch and as always, we had to laugh. And it had to be at someone else's expense. So we made a bet. Well, more like she bet me, and I can't say no to anything. "No" isn't fun.

The bet was that I had to "seduce" our server into giving us free food. I won the challenge, but I still felt pretty shitty about myself. I seduced whatshisname and long story short it went so far, Julz and I were asked to leave. On the way out, I informed whatshisname that he was not out of my league. In fact, I told him that he could do so much better than me and if anything, he was out of my league. At least he would never try to prove how sexy he was for a bet. At least he would never need to feel good about himself so much that he resorted to doing anything to fit in. At least he could actually feel things.

She could barely contain herself and because I started feeling anger build over all of the things that were wrong with us, her, me, everyone, I simply asked Julz to take me home. Of course, she asked why. As in 'why' are you killing the fun, as in 'why' are you being weird, as in 'why' do you think the world revolves around you. So I gave her the easiest answer in the world.

"I'm just not felling so well." Julz nodded. The fun had to stop when life got serious. Those are the rules. And if it's serious, Julz is out. I wish I could be like that. I couldn't go back to Ryan's house partly because I needed to get fucked all the way up, but also because then I'd have to explain why I'm staying with him to Julz and she can't take any realness at the moment. With that in mind, I texted Ryan to have him pick me up in the morning and turned off my phone for the rest of the day. I couldn't take what I had done. I couldn't take people right now. I could barely take myself. So I did the one thing I could take: drugs and drink. It might be stupid, it might be selfish, but I try to push myself further and further each time I take anything. Eventually the tolerance comes, but I just like feeling more and more like I'm floating. It's a major change from the drowning feeling I have when I'm sober. It's a major change from everything I feel, it's a release. A transcendental experience, like reaching nirvana.  

In and out of consciousness I may have
            heard the doorbell.
I couldn't
                               be
                                                          sure.
        I didn't want        
                                  to keep living            is all I knew.
But Ryan.
                      He might be
                                                        here. 

        What time is it?
***
"Sasha! We're going to be late for school!" Ryan yelled from downstairs. Oh shit, I wasn't supposed to be here. I was supposed to stay at Ryan's until the beginning of next week. Dammit.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm pretty sure I almost overdosed yesterday, I don't think it matters if I'm a little late to stupid physics," I muttered to myself. Was that just yesterday? I started getting dressed and decided that my look should reflect my attitude and right now, I don't care about anyone or anything. "Coming!" I shouted down to Ryan. Red pumps, denim high wasted shorts, a bandeau with a black leather jacket over it. Red lips, black eye liner, and a red bandana. I wasn't taking shit and I wasn't saying sorry. If they want to laugh, they can watch a Kevin Hart special. Ryan stopped me and looked me up and down when I got to the front door.

"Today should be interesting."

In the car, he doesn't say a thing. He stares at me with a million questions on his face that he'll never ask. About my outfit. About my day off. About my dad. He won't say anything- he can't; I'd crumble. 

The ride is ten minutes but it feels like an hour. When finally pull up to school, the first bell is moments away from ringing, which means I'll get to make myself a spectacle. Perfect. As I jumped out of the truck, I did the only thing I could do right: Strut. So into the crowd I went, parting them like the red sea. I pulled on my Ray Bands and walked past, only hearing sharp intakes of breath, cat calls, and wolf whistles. I smiled. That's the only thing worth hearing anymore; it's the only time I know I matter.

"Damn Sash, if you keep stopping my heart everyday I'll need you to give me CPR," Mark yelled to me from across the table. I lowered my glasses and winked like the award winning actress I was. After yesterday, I didn't really want to look at him. At any guy that thinks I'm worthy of devotion and undying love.

"Damn Mark, if I hear another bad pick up line I think I'll just have to borrow your knife and slit my wrists." Since I've done something similar before, half of my friends cracked a fake smile and the other half glared at me. Oops, that wasn't funny? Sorry not sorry.

"You know, you keep saying that. Is it me? I might have been born this way but I can change," just before I was about to insult him further, the bell rang signaling the end of our freedom. School gave me a distraction from my life, so I only pretended to hate it. Well, sometimes. I am a teenager in America after all. Don't we all despise our advantages in life?

"Physics. Ew. Ditch?" I asked Julz. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't want to go to a class I could ace sleeping. I was acing it in fact. I had the highest grade and our teacher's bullshit "strikes" only applied to Julz, who was barely scraping by with a 65.

"We can't, Barnes has us on strike two and we're reviewing. And we didn't go yesterday so it might be strike three." I'm almost glad she didn't want to risk it, I needed something to take my mind off of yesterday. Off of last night. Off of whatshisname. Off of everything.

The hallway was interesting. I mean, I am always getting stares, but today it was to an extreme. They can clearly see the bruises, yet they'd rather stare at my boobs. Everyone only wants to see the pretty because hurt is too hard to comprehend. But God damn it's too hard to live. It hurts to breathe. I hope they see me struggling, I hope it hurts to look at me.
***
Lunch. Questions.