Hopeless Beauty

The Life Of James Theodore

J.T. and I begin to walk home from school. "So, Baylee, how's life?" He asks out of nowhere. I laugh. "Really? That's going to be your conversation starter?" I ask. He thinks for a moment. "No. That's too ordinary." He says. "So, are you ever going to tell me about your name?" I asked. "I guess that one will work." He said. I rolled my eyes. "It stands for James Theodore, but don't tell anyone." He replied. I giggled. "Okay, James Theodore, what's your story?" He stops and sits on the concrete, and I sit next to him. "Well, I live with my grandpa, who works in car repair. Though, he doesn't pay attention to me much.  One of my parents committed suicide when I was seven years old, and the other dropped dead from a heart attack. Me, I inherited this lovely pill bottle from my mother." I noticed him take a pill bottle out of his pocket. My eyes widened. "That drug isn't illegal, is it?" I asked. He grinned. "No, lucky for both of us, it  isn't." I let out a breath of relief. "What type of pill is that, anyway?" I asked. He looked closely at the writing on the bottle. "It is Prozac." He says. Immediately, I grinned. "Can I have that bottle? I might actually need it. Prozac is for depression, right?" He gave me a suspicious look. "How many do you need? I can get you another bottle. I mean, one that didn't belong to my mom." I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, J.T." We sat there for a moment, then he continued with his story. I listened to the entire thing, without interrupting. At that moment, I could actually relate to him. I could relate to the way he felt. "What about you? What's your story?" He asked me. I looked down. Oh god... What do I say now? The truth. Tell him the truth. "Well... My dad hits me and my mom, and she lets it happen. Dad's an alcoholic, and mom is a pill junkie. As for me, I guess I have an addiction, too." I said, staring down at the concrete. James Theodore puts his arm around me, and says, "Well, me too." I grinned, because I finally found someone who understood me. For once in a long time, I was happy. I took his arm and rolled up his sleeve. What I saw made me realize that I wasn't alone. I looked up at him. "James Theodore?" He looks at me. "Yes?" I kiss him softly on the cheek. "I think it's best that we stick together through our high school years." After that statement, we just looked at the ground, making occasional confessions for the rest of the day. I slept at his house on the couch that night. I didn't feel like going home ever again, though I knew I would have to at some point.