After moving into town, antisocial Novak Bennani begins to warm up to popular girl Kirsten, he has to learn to fall out of love when he learns the truth about her.
...
I sat on the cold ceramic floor, my legs folded under me in a near-empty room.
In one corner lay an opened suitcase spilling with clothes, the other was dedicated to bed space, a thick sheet and pillow were spread out.
In the opposite corner, a carton filled to the brim with various necessities made its home, next to it sat a stack of books and papers.
I surveyed the room again, taking in every square centimetre, this was home, this was all I had, it will have to do.
Two days ago when my darling father gave me an ultimatum, I had no choice but gather what little I had and find a new place with twenty dollars in my pocket. With no one to turn to, I found myself heading to Seth, he sheltered me, fed me, let me get blackout drunk on his tab, He is probably the closest thing to a friend that I have.
**
I couldn't always live off Seth, so I began the tedious search of a job, but in this quaint town, the few minimum wage jobs that were available were on the graveyard shift, with the obligations of school on my shoulders, I couldn't take those jobs.
So after contemplating for a day and a half, I once again returned to Seth, complaining about my options
"Buddy, there's two things you can do, drug dealer or an Escort," he said, already a little tipsy.
"You know I can't do either, Selling drugs or my body isn't an option, I have to make a future" I reasoned.
"There's nothing else to do here and the bills stack up quickly"
"I know," I said dejectedly
"come on man, take your pick, drugs or that booty" he winked.
"I don't think I would be able to live in this body after selling my dignity away, so drugs, drugs it is."
"Ayeeee mate, Father Thomas would kill for that booty"
"Can we not talk about priests violating my ass?"
"Yeahh, but good choice buddy" and with that, he jumped into business mode.
For the next hour, he gave me an in-depth class on dealing drugs. Weighing, packaging, making contacts, picking your corner, All of that and some more.
Twentyfour more hours, after having slept on the idea that I had no option and this was the life I had to lead, I packed my first delivery into my backpack, grabbed my helmet and keys and set said for the neighbouring city of San Diego.
nervously staring at patrol police and two near-heart-attacks later, I made it to the landing spot, handed over the delivery in exchange for a wad of cash.
This was wayyyy too much money, What was I supposed to do with all of this? my cut of this would last me for a month, fulfilling all my priorities, right from rent and petrol down to cigarettes. At least I won't have to do this every day, maybe soon enough I will have saved enough to quit.
This whole drug dealing business just made me anxious and queasy and one delivery later I was desperately looking for my ticket out of here, its how mama lost her footing or that's what I remember of it.
**
I lay down on the thick sheet that served as the mattress and tried to make myself comfortable unsuccessfully. Wasn't there enough after rent, petrol and cigarettes for a mattress? I mentally calculated.
There was, I would have to forgo a week's worth of Food money and all of the savings, that wasn't an option. So I made peace with my bedding and made myself comfortable or at least told myself that I was comfortable and that I couldn't feel the cold concrete beneath me.
With that lingering on my mind, I drifted off into a thankfully, dreamless sleep.
**
It was four am, I was sifting through my books as I refreshed my mail to find the pile-up of assignments. I had slipped, and to catch up sleep must be sacrificed or that's what I told myself. In reality, the bedding was just too damn uncomfortable to stay asleep on. My bones weighed against the concrete, crushing whatever flesh and skin in between.
A few cigarettes and a few hours later I was seated in biology with a bag full of completed assignments.
My fingers thumped against the surface of the desk, rhythmically, it was my nervous tick. Wait, why was I nervous? Is it because I haven't been to school in a few days? Or is it because I have returned as a drug dealer? Or is it because of her? The oddly cheerful devil who usually was seated next to me, her pencil would always be held between her teeth that peeked from her pouty lips. Oh, yea, she was definitely the one making me nervous, perhaps it was something to do with my drunken episode.
As mortified as I was about it, I was still dying to know what had I told her, what had we talked about, only if she would tell.
I watched her push open the class door and drag her feet to the seat, her expression one of disinterest and disappointment.
She still hadn't noticed my presence so I extended my hand to cover the distance between us and rapped on her desk.
Next thing I knew, she was hugging me, her petite form resting in my lap, her head cradled in the crook of my neck as she mumbled about how she thought I had died.
I was too surprised to react, with her exhibition of this level of unrequited, unwanted intimacy.
Nevertheless, I closed my arms around her, holding her a bit too comfortably than I would like to admit.
"I was saying hello, not asking for a hug" I whispered.
Seconds later, she was sitting in her seat, her face resembling a tomato as she formed a few incoherent words about drinking and sorrys.
"Goodmorning class, I will be handing out your marked projects, please rectify your mistakes and resubmit if needed"
