The Life of a Teenage Drug Addict

Chapter 5

   I quietly closed the front door behind me, hoping that by being quiet my mother would scream quietly at me. I was wrong.
   "Who the hell said you could go out?" My mom shouts at me as I start to slip off my shoes.
   Whenever she would have her little spouts, I would be scared into peeing my pants a little. But now it was just like a regular, routine thing. "You did, mom. Is dad home?" I ask as I peer into the living room, not seeing the usual baseball game playing on the flatscreen.
   "You bet your father's home, and boy is he going to give it to you when he finds out you were hanging out with that Trevor boy." She wags her finger at me.
   Mother still looks impeccable, although her words slur slightly as if she were drunk, which I had no doubt she was.
   "Mom, it's doesn't- wait. How'd you know I was hanging out with Trevor?" I put my hands on my hips and glared at her, my eyebrows so high they shot through the high vaulted ceiling.
   She waves her hand, her anger diminishing. "You left yourself logged onto the computer and I simply looked at your little school thing. Not a big dead, really." She went to the kitchen to grab what I suspected to be more win.
   "Oh my FUCKING GOD MOTHER!" I screamed before tromping up the stairs. "Dad, mom's acting nutso again." I shouted against their bedroom door, figuring he was taking cover in the safety of the room.
   "I know, kiddo. Just go to bed." He called back, completely unfazed by the fact that I was being unfairly treated by my nut job mother who probably took her Bupropion and Paxil at the same time with a glass of white wine.
   I slammed my door behind myself and collapsed face first into my bed, screaming. Luckily the thick duvet and pillow top mattress could muffle my scream into nothingness. I laid there for a few moments before the feeling of a migraine coming on made me drag myself to my bathroom to pop a few Ibuprofen.  
   Without a second thought, I collapsed into my desk chair and shot Trevor a quick message. "Sorry about my ballistic mother." I sent before closing my laptop and heading back to my bathroom to take a quick shower and go to bed early. God only knew how much I'd need rest the next day.
***
   I woke up to sunlight falling into my eyes and a blinking alarm clock.
   "God damnit!" I shouted as I threw the duvet off of myself and ran for the bathroom to take a quick shower. The power company was cutting trees that threatened power lines last night and I guess the workers were the actual threat.
   By the time I was read-not my usual ready, just clean-it was 8:45, I was already over an hour late for classes.
   Maybe I'd just milk it and spend the day at home...
   I quickly knocked the bad thoughts out of my head and started running for school. Someone with perfect attendance for the past three years couldn't miss the second day of school!
   When I arrived at school, I was a hot and sweaty mess and apparently everyone thought it was hilarious that the always-on-time Rebecca Miles was finally late. Live it up, people, 'cause it won't ever happen again.
   "Why are you so late, Ms. Miles?" Mrs. Powell asked as I took my seat at the front of the room.
   "Sorry, the power company cut my lines and my alarm didn't go off. Office knows I'm here. Please, just continue with the lesson." I pulled out my pen and notebook and began taking the notes up on the Smart Board, getting a nasty look from one of the girls at the front of the room. What the hell's her problem?

   The rest of my day went just like this: absolute shit.
   I was uncomfortable the whole day due to being covered in my sticky sweat, which affected my focus level, which affected my learning, which affected my mood. Not only was I a clammy mess, but a bitchy clammy mess.
   "You look like shit," Said a familiar voice behind me. I turned to see Kate, applying lipgloss as she walked over to me.
   How do I describe Kate Winselton? She was a beauty. Perfectly blonde. Perfectly thin. Perfectly perfect. Oh, yeah, except for the bad drug addictions, horrible grades, low morals, and shitty eyeliner job. Though her style consisted of converse and camo pants, guys still dropped to their knees when she walked by. If only they knew she had STD's up he wazoo.
   "I could say the same about you. What'd you take last night? Snort or shoot?" I asked as I stared at her bloodshot eyes and slightly drawn lips.
   "Snort." She said as she followed me to my locked.
   I sighed and sifted around in my bag, finding a small bottle and pouring her a couple of Advil. "You're one stupid motherfucker." I grumbled as I grabbed my bag and shut my locker.
   "Yeah, yeah. I know." She said, throwing back the Advil. "Any plans for tonight?" She asked as she followed me out into the parking lot.
   "Studying."
   "On a Friday?" She said, voice going up an octave, "Why would you torture yourself like that?"
   "I have a test on Monday."
   "For what?"
   "AP."
   "You and your stupid smart classes. But anyways, there's a part tonight at Angelo's. You're welcome to come."
   "Thanks, but I'll pass. I don't feel like picking you up off the bathroom floor again."
   "Suit yourself. I'm not your mother or anything." She said as she split off into the parking lot. "Hey, want a ride home?" She called to me.
   "No, thanks, not when you're like this."
   "Suit yourself." She said again, it seemed to be her new catchphrase.
   I watched as she drove away, occasionally driving too close to the sidewalk or swerving the lines. Kate the Kite was definitely one to have earned her nickname.