I sat in Cris’s truck, the streetlights painting shadows over my face, the cold biting at my fingers, and I listened to Never Shout Never whisper about not being able to stand it.
Baby, I love you
I never want to let you go
The more I think about,
The more I want to let you know:
That everything you do,
Is super fu—
‘‘Why do you listen to this stuff?’’ Cris asked, turning off the radio.
‘‘You mean instead of that shitty Damn Duran, or whatever it’s called?’’
‘‘Duran Duran.’’ Cris looked at me, clearly pissed. ‘‘And it’s not shitty. It was one of the most successful bands of the Eighties.’’
‘‘Yeah, Cris. The Eighties.’’
He ignored me and turned onto Jefferson Drive. The moon was hidden by clouds.
‘‘You know Dad’s gonna be mad,’’ Cris said.
I nodded. ‘’I know.’’
‘‘And you’re gonna get grounded.’’
‘‘Yes, I am.’’
He looked at me, the light turning his eyes yellow. ‘‘You’re taking this awfully good.’’
I glared back at him. ‘‘Yes, Cris. There is absolutely no fear inside of me.’’
‘‘Good to know.’’ He pulled into the driveway.
Later, I discovered he was right. Dad gave me a lecture about teens getting drunk and my ADHD reactions, and how my grades were being affected by this problem. Then he grounded me for a week and took my phone away. I left to take a shower and get the vomit off my body.
On the way to my bedroom, I saw Cris on his phone. I asked, ‘‘Who are you texting?’’
‘‘Megan,’’ he answered, and I raised my eyebrows.
Suddenly Cris laughed. I became even more surprised; it had been a long time since he’d laughed.
‘‘What’s up?’’
‘’Oh, nothing,’’ he answered. ‘‘I’m just going to have the best weekend ever.’’
YOU ARE READING
Looking At Us
Teenfikce❝Looking at us, I see your smile, and I feel your hand, and I wonder, truly, if we are meant to survive this journey.❞ Based on a true story in which a group of teens battle love, life, and sociality.
