Iodine

Chapter 1

I call these my hazy days, the days when I find myself drifting off to that black, memory-filled space. It awes me that no matter how painful my thoughts are, I can still manage to think them. All the time. It reminds me of one of those endorphin-crazed addicts you'd see on My Strange Addictions.

    "Harper. Are you with us?" Corey's joking voice snaps me back to reality.

    "Yeah? Sorry, you know me." I say, giggling off the fact that I had just dozed off into my thoughts in the middle of english class, again.

    "Dude, have you even started your poem?" Out of the six years I have known Corey, it has never stricken me until just now how intriguing his deep, hazel eyes are. I could stare into them for the rest of my life and never get bored.

    "Uh, yeah. I finished it a few minutes ago. And no, this time I did not forget to share it with Ms. Swanson over Drive." I joke, rolling my eyes. I glance from Corey's pine green sweatshirt to the circular clock that hangs above the wooden door of Ms. Swanson's classroom. 17 minutes until third hour is over and we are off to lunch.

    "You know you should really come over this weekend and catch the football game with us- Jelly will be there too. My parents keep telling me I need to invite more people so we don't have so much lefto-"

    Corey is abruptly cut off by the melodic and sweet but slightly low voice of Ms. Swanson, "Attention class, Mr. Thompson has just given me your first semester report cards to hand out to all of you. You will need to have your parent or guardian sign just below your grades and return them to your advisors by next Wednesday, January 23rd. Get back to work while I pass these out, please." She pauses and slowly inhales, as if trying to remember something. "And class, don't forget to share your poems with me by the end of the school day. They will be going on third quarter grades. By Monday I should have left a few comments under your poems, be sure to check them for some feedback. Alright, that's all."

    "Well, shit. I'd be lucky to have friends over for the football game if my grades are as bad as they were last quarter. My dad will totally have my ass." Corey remarks as a manilla envelope with his name on it is placed on his desk. Seconds after, my envelope is set on my desk. His last name, Braxton, falls right before mine, Caulton, in most of our classes.

    "Ha, they can't ground you if you don't show them until Monday. You know, it's not due back until Wednesday." I suggest, a devilish smirk shows on my face.

    "Harper, have I ever told you that you are a fucking genius?" Corey slowly starts tearing open the envelope, then puts his hands in a praying manner and pleads, "Dear Lord, please have mercy on me."

    I laugh, "Corey, you know that you gotta do more than give God a blowjob, right? Your grades remind me of that one time I tried to make a chocolate cake. I mean, it looked delicious on the outside. But then I bit into it and it tasted like horse shit." I start opening my own envelope and unfold the piece of paper that lies inside, already knowing what to expect.

    "Alright then, miss prissy bitch. If my grades are horse shit, then yours have to be cow shit." Corey grabs and glances at my sheet, but I quickly yank away. "Why can't I see them? I saw the first few and they were all As, Harper."

    "They don't matter. All that matters is that I get my mom to sign the goddamn sheet. I don't understand why she doesn't approve of my grades. We're halfway through our freaking sophomore year and I've gotten nothing but As."

    "My parents would buy me a fucking pony if I got even half of the grades you do." He starts laughing as he unfolds the pristine, white paper.

    Before we know it, the bell rings and everyone starts rushing out of their seats, in a hurry to make it to their next class without being trampled by all of the 6' seniors in our miserable high school.

    The next two hours fly by, and I find myself dozing off, yet again in sixth period health. Memories flash flood my brain and it seems as if the water needs to release itself through my eyes due to an overflow of thoughts.

    "Harp, you doing alright?" Jelly's bright blue eyes stare with concern, piercing through my retina.

    "Yeah, I'm fantastic." I laugh, quickly wiping off tears that had just fallen down my cheeks. I divert the subject, not wanting to talk about the thoughts that had just crept their way into my brain, "Are you going to Corey's tonight? He invited me over, too. I could totally use some plans to waste some time."

    "Hell yeah, since when have I been the one to flake on you guys?" She laughs, twirling her copper-like hair, very similar in color to Corey's. It's always been us three since elementary school. Their parents helped give me rides to and from things in my earlier years- my parents aren't much to talk about; unless you're the school gossip girl. We have one of those unbreakable bonds that you only see on TV.

    "Hey drama machines, how's it goin'? Haven't seen you guys in ages!" Corey remarks sarcastically and plops down in the empty chair next to me, across from Jelly.

    "Oh, it's you again." I roll my eyes and punch him in the shoulder.

    "Hey bro, will you help me with this sheet? This seems right up your alley." Jelly chuckles, pointing at the worksheet of the male anatomy that had just been passed out by Mr. Emerson, our health teacher. Sex ed unit started two days ago, on Wednesday. "I mean, I've come to the conclusion that you have a wang. I'm not completely sure yet though." She looks Corey up and down.

    "Ah screw off, asshole. I mean, would you like to see my wang? I bet it'd be a nice upgrade compared to your dad's chode." Corey jokingly thrusts his hips.

    "You know, if you guys had sex, that'd basically be twincest." I comment. Jelly and Corey look so similar, their eye color being one of the only exceptions.

    "Dude, did you guys know that incest is like the most watched category on PornHub?" Corey expresses a little too loud, grabbing the attention of the other students in our class

Mr. Emerson looks up at Corey and shakes his head, chuckling. "Corey, I'm not sure that I'd like to know how you've acquired that information, but I'm sure that everyone greatly appreciates your attribution to their knowledge. You learn something new every day, class."

    "Way to go, Corey the porn junkie." I reach over and tossle Corey's hair.

    "Oh my god Harper, not his hair! He's going to have a bitch fit." Jelly cracks.

    "Oh hush, Jellybean. I bet I pay more for my hair gel than you do for your super-sized tampons." Corey throws in.

    "Alright class, be prepared for a very honest discussion on Monday! You're sophomores now, human sexuality is a reality." Mr. Emerson announces, only five seconds before the dismissal bell is bound to ring.

    "Thank you, sir. I am really excited to express my knowledge in butt fucking. It'll finally be my chance to shine, maybe I'll get a chance to rise up and get my first A!" Corey sarcastically comments as we all walk out of class together, following the bell.

    The lanyard of my keychain makes a dangling motion and the musty air of the hallway fills my nostrils as I open the door to apartment 109. I walk in to the sight of my mom, passed out on the couch with the TV on low volume. Quietly, I tip-toe back to my room in hopes that I don't wake Mom quite yet. Reaching into my backpack, I feel for the manilla envelope and sigh with relief when the paper meets my fingertips. I pull it out and head to the living room.

    "Huh? Harp?" Mom mutters and her eyes squint as if I am shining and flashlight into them.

    "Hey, mom. I have my report card and I need you to sign it for me, please." I say with a small smile on my face, hoping I don't upset her.

    Mom slowly sits up and the couch and rubs her eyes as she reaches for me to hand her the paper. "Whatever." She remarks after looking over the report card.

    "Well I'm going to Corey's again. I'll see you tomorrow or on Sunday. I'm not sure yet." I say, turning away.

    "No, you can't leave." Mom slurs, grabbing my wrist with a tight hold. The familiar smell of booze creeps from her breath.

    I yank away and grab my lanyard, slamming the apartment door behind me. It feels as if someone has stabbed me in the back, pain stings in my heart and a tear creeps down my porcelain white face.

    But trust me, I've felt worse.