Jean had always been in and out of trouble. Not too bad of a mess, just minor things like littering and other stuff. Every now and then she’d get in trouble with the cops, but recently she hasn’t been.
I usually weasel her out of trouble by playing my ‘Goodie-Two-Shoes’ card whenever she gets caught in its web and keep her away from her mischief.
Jean had always been there for me. She gave me a shoulder to cry on when this education stuff got hard and she was there to snap me out of my scenarios of a perfect future, a perfect life. She always knew what to do when something went wrong, usually because she had already been through it.
She and I were so different, but somehow we managed to become best friends. No, we’re more than that. Jean and I were sisters.
“You know Carson?”
Jean was a little hesitant to answer. She looked around the room, eyeing everything she could in hopes of dodging my question.
“Jean,” I whined. She knew Carson, but how? She and I no longer attended the same schools. I doubt she met him on any school related terms.
“Yeah, kinda,” She finally replied.
“You know him?” I almost spat out.
“Yes! I already said that!” She wailed, “We kind of met in reform school,”
I never really told my parents much about Jean. They were just happy I made one friend and let us be. They never knew Jean was some sort of young little criminal. I even laugh sometimes. Jean looks absolutely harmless and innocent.
“So he’s… one of those,” I said in that funny accent I do when Jean talks about her ‘prison mates’
“Yes. Yes he is,” She laughed.
“So? What of it?”
“Ari, he’s one of those! You shouldn’t mix yourself with those people,”
“I hang out with you,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes, and making a face.
“Yes! You do,” She laughed, “But Carson’s… different,”
“Different?” You could tell by my tone I wasn’t convinced. She could tell too. I always used this tone with her, whenever she got in trouble and played the ‘I’m Innocent’ card.
“Yeah, different,”
“Different as in-”
“Different… Different as in-” She stuttered to find the right words. “Different as in different,”
“Smooth,” I laughed, "Maybe he is different,"
“What are you thinking?”
“Maybe different is what I need,”
YOU ARE READING
Nerds & Boyfriends (unfinished)
Short StoryI was never really a pro at sports or a flirt with the guys. I couldn't serve a ball or make hundreds of friends. I wasn't really getting anywhere in life. My education and future meant everything to me. It was pretty much all I had. I guess I never...
