uncool, stanley barber

27

27 - a jellyfish and an octopus wouldn't have these problems

we're high. pretty high. like a kite-in-the-sky-kinda baked. "stan" i laugh as i lay on my back on the field. "i-i can't see!"

he laughs beside me as we can't control our giggles. "sometimes that happens" he says, throwing his arms about.

i grab his wrist "i wanna be like this! i want a free arm to flop about cause it's-it's funny."

"like a jellyfish, right?" he replies.

"exactly like a jellyfish" i say, still holding onto his wrist.

"i want to shape-shift into like, a giant ass jellyfish!"

i choke out laughter and start to think of what i'd like to be. "maybe like an octopus. it's more awesome than a j-jellyfish."

"jellyfish can like, sting though" stanley frowns over exaggeratedly. "they're fucking cool."

"not as cool as an octopus. a pacific octopus has 3 hearts and 9 brains-"

"and you've got none of those things!" stanley cackles as i hiccup, hitting his wrist against his chest.

i check his watch to see the time, which is still a bit fuzzy. but it's saying we've been out here for ages and i've missed my last lesson. "stan! i missed math!" i squeal.

"who cares, math sucks" he laughs. we stay like that for ages, laying in the grass staring at the sky talking shit. we don't even move when school's dismissed, we just stay where we are having mini debates.

"should we go?" i giggle, sitting up and picking out the grass cuttings from my hair.

"nah-" stanley says but sits up as well and gasps. before i can ask what's happening, the most horrific scenario plays out.

my dad is storming over to us, as well as mrs capriotti and whitaker. before we can think to run away, mr whitaker points down at us. "i told you they'd be up to no good!"

whitaker was most definitely the tattle tale of his school when he was our age. i wonder if he's a happy man.

"ella, stanley. what's going on here?" mrs capriotti asks us, crossing her arms. we stand and fix our appearances. i'm embarrassed, but stanley being the master of zero fucks, is fine.

"we, uh. lost track of time" he says. he's not wrong, we did. but that's because..

"because you're both high!" whitaker says, using big gestures. i look at my dad in his uniform as he rubs his forehead. this must be so humiliating for him; his own daughter breaking the law right under his nose. "detention, for life!"

"mr whitaker, that's not possible" mrs capriotti says to him. "there will be consequences, i'm afraid-"

"too damn straight!" whitaker interrupts again. "barber, your father will be hearing from us as he didn't pick up his phone."

"he tends to ignore it" stanley mutters under his breath, but he looks sad and like he gives a fuck. probably for the abuse he's going to get.

"do you have anything to say for yourselves!" whitaker exclaims.

i think for a long moment before stanley shrugs. "don't blame ella, mr dawson-"

"oh, i'm not" my dad replies as he finally looks me in the eye. "you're a bad influence on my daughter and i want you to stay away from her-"

"no!" i shout "you can't do that."

"he's a cop, he can do whatever he wants!" whitaker sucks up to my father. what a whiny bitch.

"i don't care!" i shout in my dad's face.

"stanley, would you come with me please?" mrs capriotti asks. he nods before i grab onto his arm.

"it's not stanley's fault. this was all my choice, my idea-"

"he's corrupted you" my dad sighs "a basic case of peer pressure, you're brainwashed, ella."

"I'M NOT SO GO FUCK YOURSELF!" i completely lose in front of them. the 3 adults who've probably seen this case before; 2 teenagers getting high in a boring town. they're bored of it, but i can't help it anymore.

my dad's the angriest he's ever been, it's like when he found out mum hit me. it's weird seeing it directed at me. my breathing starts to quicken as mrs capriotti tries to diffuse the situation, but i run.

i run far from the grounds, not sure if i was expecting stanley to follow or be courteous. but he's already in enough trouble with my dad, maybe he chose the right option.

with home and stanley out of the equation, not to mention the fact bradley would murder me for seeing dina, there's only one place i can think of where i can go.

i knock on the small door as it opens for me. "ella?"

"hi, syd."

hey all, i've got a really rough week with homework, so i'll try my best to update - what's the craziest corona situation for you right now?