"I don't think I can make it tonight," I wince, hoping it makes my words seem pained. "I'm probably going to get called in."
"Right... so that was supposed to be an excuse," Kylie laughs, shooting a grin to her boyfriend, "trust me, you've had enough of a taste. You'll find a way."
Choking on air—who first chose to willingly put themself through that? If I'd been the one who invented smoking, I would've reserved it for torture. "Give us the names, or we'll scorch your insides." Apparently though, because I didn't, that made it a viable pastime to pick up from these two. "Deadly, addictive, and expensive, you say?" Sign me up.
Idiot.
"Seeya tonight," Jordan grins back. The signature glaze over his unfocused eyes matches that of his girlfriend's and it makes me sick to think of how close I've been running the line between us. That will be me if I don't stick to my guns.
I give a doubtful look, but Kylie just winks, patting my shoulder on her way down the hall. I breathe a laugh as she passes, but even she can probably hear how flat it falls. Doesn't matter, they're so jacked up they'll barely remember my name by the time I we see each other again. I plow the opposite way through the corridor. Kylie and Jordan both have AP Bio with me first period, but I missed an assignment last night and the only time they give extensions is at morning office hours—one place, at least, where I could count on never meeting up. They aren't exactly what you'd call over-achievers.
Things have been off with us all lately. Kylie and I always had our different views, but she's been pushing harder since term started. It gets very tense, very fast. I know she does it on purpose. She's trying to make me her mark, to see if I'll come quietly. We have history, yes, but if she thinks I'm going to just roll over and be her lap dog she's on a bigger trip than she paid her dealer for. I'm ready for her. I've been ready. We've been heading down this road for a while now.
The friendship had been a long shot from day one. Yeah we were tight last year, but I was in a bad place then and they took me under their wing. Their fiery, clawed batwing. I had been drowning when they threw me a line. That line turned out to be more like a live grenade, but beggars can't be choosers. I'm the one that grabbed on anyway. Maybe things had worked out at first, but there was no way it could hold. Now, I needed to drop them like I did AP calc: fast and with no regrets.
The chem lab already has a line of students when I reach. I was so close to being early. Might've beat the rush if I could have beat Kylie to the door.
This is what I get for coming into school with my guard down. Won't be making that mistake again. I drive my headphones as securely into my ears as they'll go. Their fluorescent green chord cuts a trail like chemical waste across my dull grey hoodie. You can't miss them, which is exactly why I picked the color. No more "accidental" interruptions. They see and they keep their distance. Mission accomplished. With school and work and all the random crap in between, time is something I already don't have enough of. I'm not trying to waste any more of it making friends in this place. I'm not even sticking around. Soon as graduation hits, I'm out and I don't need any roots holding me back.
That's another reason why things with Kylie and Jordan have to stop. It was bad enough when school and work were the most complicated parts of my life, now I'm splitting downtime between my place and the crash pad they keep for me at the firehouse and leaving either is like packing for a freaking road trip. The idea is to give myself options, which is great except when it's not. Times like last night, my mom was having a moment, so I went to crash by the guys instead. It's chill there, easier to focus. Well, last night, the house was on red alert the whole time I was there. I got nothing done. Now I'm wasting time here for trying to save it somewhere else. If that's a pattern, then all my time has to go to making sure I really do graduate.
I plan my life around school. My whole schedule got a major spring cleaning for senior year. Cheer stayed, but only because being a captain is what I'm hoping will get me into CMU or San Diego State. Zumba and boxing had to go though and this was just the nail in the coffin for photography. It sucked, but those ones were just hobbies. It's not like I'm not going to get good enough to use them in the field. I don't even have a camera anymore. Had to sell my last one to make rent a few months back. It was great, a pawned Canon EOS Rebel. Gently used, amazing res, 18MP optical zoom. When I took a photo of my horse, you could count the strands in his mane. I used to spend all my time on photos. Some of them were actually good. I sold a few, most are probably still in my dad's house somewhere. I wouldn't know though. When my mom said she was taking me I had to hide all my albums and hope they'd be okay. Fiji is still there too. My photos, my horse, and everything that made sense to me are out there on the ranch in the middle of nowhere, while I'm stuck here in the nowhere state. I can't keep living like this, so I'm going to graduate, I'm going to get through college with a degree I can use, and then I'm moving back to Taos for the sun kissed desert to burn Columbus's bipolar climate out of my system for good.
"Do you have a question, Karin?"
"Yeah, about last night's work," I begin, hauling myself to the front.
All I have to do is finish this year.
YOU ARE READING
Not Helping
Teen Fiction"School. Work. Home. That was all you had to do..." If Viviane Belodrome could keep her head in school, maybe everyone else would too instead of passing time trying to convince her of the Summit St. Savior. If Karin Orellana had gone straight to w...
