vii. spreading the news
STANDING UP FROM Finn's bed, I stretched. I'd taken ten minutes to myself, to just lay in his bed and remember the good times we had here, rather than leave the room with nothing but bad memories about his addiction. I hadn't really considered it while I was remembering the past; I was actually a little shocked with myself for not noticing his addiction sooner. Of all people, I should've been the one to see it before it slapped me in the face through Preston, not because he spent most of his time with me, but because I was an ex-addict.
Swallowing, I walked over to his dresser and grabbed out a folded duffle bag. Shaking it out, I propped it open and put the box on the bottom of the bag. Then, I walked back to his closet and grabbed out three pairs of jeans, a couple sweatshirts and tank tops, socks, boxers and his other set of shoes and two more of his belts that I knew he liked. I also grabbed a few of his beanie hats. His favorites; the white and orange striped one with a small ball on the top, a slightly thicker all grey beanie, his two rasta beanies and his Bob Marley remembrance beanie. As I stood there, holding the hats in my hand, i saw my old blue beanie I'd thought I lost and smiled a little, grabbing it and pulling it onto my head before walking back over to the bag. Putting them inside, I made my way over to his desk.
The bottom door was detachable two months after Preston left us to ourselves. Finn and I had snuck into the house to get a pipe after he'd dropped our hitter in the river. I was laughing so hard when I stumbled into the room and his drawer was still open. I tripped over his chair leg, fell towards the drawer and snapped it right off. We spent two hours laughing over it after failing miserably to fix it and eventually fell asleep in his bed.
Snapping myself out of my thoughts, I pulled it out and grabbed two of Finn's cash filled wallets and threw them in the bag, along with his bathroom supplies, which were in the drawer itself. I put it back in place and then fished out two packs of cigarettes, a lighter, his iPod, headphones and charger, placing them in the bag as well.
While I'd grabbed his iPod, I'd found his extra notebooks. Grabbing the stack of five notebooks, I noticed the bottom two were empty. Swiping through the pages of the full ones, I came across a page that had our names drawn in graffiti art. For a moment, I thought there were patterns inside the letters, and then I realized there were things written in them.
In his name, it said, He's that boy no one understands but her; that boy no one loves but her; that boy no one sees or hears but her; that boy no one is going to miss after he dies because he means nothing to them, but he means something to her. She's the only one that's genuine and true with him; she the one he can't get out of his head.
Smiling a little, I looked over and read what was written in my name: She's that girl everyone hates but him; that girl no one knows but him; that girl they all have a hard time understanding but him; that girl that everyone wants dead or gone because then it would be easy for them to live their miserable lives but him. He's the only one that would miss her; the only one that really loves her.
Shaking my head, I realized Finn had pinpointed our friendship in two paragraphs and our names. Closing my eyes, I let a smile grace my lips before placing the notebooks in the duffle bag and grabbing out his graffiti art pens and putting them in the bag, as well. I knew how he got; he wanted to draw and write in the middle of the night, much like I did, and everything he created was a beautiful masterpiece that would leave me wrapped up in him until the morning hours woke me from my dreaming.
After the bag was zipped and everything Finn would need was inside, I put his room back the way it was when I entered it. With the room back in order, I slung the bag over my shoulder and cautiously made my way out into the hallway. Walking towards the back window, a hand grasped my shoulder and spun me around.
YOU ARE READING
Tweaker
Teen FictionEnter Finn Fintry: Oaktown's seventeen year old drug dealing, pot smoking, knife wielding trouble maker. And his partner in crime? None other than Greyson Harris, Oaktown's other seventeen year old drug dealing, pot smoking, knife wielding trouble...