The underpass is about a fifteen minute walk from our school which is pretty convenient when we didn't feel the need to show up. The underpass is an extremely important place to both Jimmy and I. This is the place where I met Jimmy for the very first time during my freshman year.
Halfway through the first semester of school that year, my entire world shattered into a million pieces. I got called from my fourth period class, which was math conveniently, and I was sort of relieved to get out of doing the difficult assignment that had been passed around to each student after our lesson. Math was the most troublesome subject for me. I remember walking down the hallway very slowly to cut extra class time, ignorant to the fact that I wasn't going to be going back anyways. The air was thick with silence, and something undetectable. It made me more uncomfortable than a crowded room did. I'd never encountered a violent silence before that day. I haven't encountered another since.
I opened the office door to see my mother signing me out with smeared makeup coating her dark circle ridden sea foam green eyes. She couldn't even look at me as she threw the pen down, and pushed through the doors I was still holding open. I followed behind her with confusion and panic creeping throughout my being.
"What did I do this time?" I wondered aloud with a bite in my tone.
Silence, as she opened the car door, and waited for me to join her inside of the car.
"I swear I haven't done anything. I can't even remember the last time I got in trouble at school!"
"Your dad is dead. I'm sorry..." She trailed off, the emotion peeling off of her face like a mask, as she finally broke down pounding on the steering wheel with pure anger mixed with a longing agony.
I felt like a deer in headlights; exposed and frightened. I exited the car almost without thought and ran until I came to a place where it felt okay to stop. I crumbled to my knees on a dirt pathway beside of a noisy underpass. Tall grass prevented me from glimpsing the crowd of people gathered underneath of it, drinking their lives away to the beat of some rock song that was concealed by the noisy cars. If I knew so many people were near me I would have kept running, and I'm glad I didn't know. I felt hot tears streaming down my face. This can't be happening to me This isn't happening to me. Why the fuck is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this kind of despair? All of these questions swarmed my mind like an furious bunch of hornets. My thoughts were getting darker with each second, being tainted with all of these negative emotions washing over me like water from an unforeseen downpour.
"Hey, is everything okay?" A deep voice asked in a somewhat soothing tone.
I looked up with mascara smudging down my cheeks to meet murky green eyes that would soon be a comforting sight. I shook my head and collapsed again, crying out softly from the pain my heart was experiencing. That is how Jimmy came into my life.
A guitar riff greeted us as we trudged over to the regulars. The regulars are the people we have come to know over the past few years that are always found underneath the underpass. They had even brought furniture so they could rest when the party died out. The small, aged, pastel pink chair was my favorite piece. It reminded me of something that could be found in every old woman's home that welcomed guests warmly. It even swiveled around and around which gave me the view of the entire underpass whenever I did decide to relax in it. I guess you could call me a "wallflower" because I would rather observe than to interact.
The regulars greeted us with waves and half smiles. This was our home.
Jacob, the silver haired twenty one year old that Jimmy was extremely close to, offered us shots of Absolut Vodka. Jimmy turned to me blinking a few times with big, pleading, swampy green eyes wanting me to take up on the offer. I sighed and agreed for the sake of celebration.
Jacob smiled a sinister one as we downed the vodka to a Three Days Grace song that was from their album One X which happened to be one of my favorites. The straight vodka was like swallowing a match. It burned like a bitch going down. The burning didn't cease once it hit my stomach, either. I coughed for a good five minutes trying not to heave which gave everyone a great laugh. Jimmy had downed the large shot as if it was water and he already began tossing another shot down his throat.
I looked at him from my watering eyes, not even the least surprised. He sent me a small smirk as he gulped a third. I managed to make my way over to my old lady chair and sat down until my stomach stopped churning. By the time I felt well enough to join the party again, Jimmy had already drank a beer, and was on his second one. He yanked one out of the six pack and tossed it to me. I caught it and popped it open trying to blend in with this crowd of partiers. I'm a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and had already embarrassed myself once. Not really going for a second time. So, I chugged the entire beer pretending it was something that didn't taste like piss.
****Jimmy's Point of View****
The sky was becoming a deep violet and the stars were starting to slowly peep out of the darkening blanket of sky one by one. Octobr looked so beautiful in the dim twilight. I smiled over at her hunched in her grandma chair sipping on her fourth beer. She was pretending as if she enjoyed the cheap beer judging by the almost unnoticeable pinch that appeared on her crimson lips after every drink, and the way she had to squeeze her eyes shut as she swallowed the bitter liquid. I tipped the bourbon bottle up to my lips taking a swig of the smooth alcohol with a half smile on my lips. Drinking was one of the only things that never got stale for me. I could drink every day of the week and still love every moment of the sort of high that alcohol provided me.
I made my way over to her, lighting a cigarette, and leaving it to dangle on my lips. I inhaled the smoke tasting menthol, which will always be my signature cigarette. If I didn't have a pack of menthol's in my pocket you knew you were in for a sour attitude until I got my hands on one. I put my palms on the arms of the old pale chair and pressed my forehead against hers. Her glossy, drunken white-blue eyes met mine.
"You can stop drinking now, that is if you want."
She shook her head sipping on her beer with a forced smile.
"I know you don't care for drinking that much. I just wanted you to do a shot with me, that's all. You don't have to be embarrassed about not being a binge drinker. It's a great habit to not possess. If you don't like it, you don't like it. This is home. Nobody is judging you," I assured her brushing her deep red bangs from her eyes.
Her face flushed fire engine red, as she realized she wasn't putting on a good act since I caught her, and it caused her to throw the bottle in the dirt out of annoyance. The last of the beer dribbled out meeting my left shoe.
"They laughed at me earlier because I couldn't handle the vodka," She slightly slurred, frowning, and bringing her knees to her chest.
"They think you're cute. They weren't making fun of you. I wasn't making fun of you. Promise," I promised holding my left pinky out.
She gave me a half-assed smile and took my pinky with her right one.
"Okay..."
"Let's go check out the 7/11 down there," I pointed,"I know you haven't ate all day today. You hate school food."
I took her hand in mine, pulling her up from the chair, knowing that she would be unsteady on her feet. We shuffled towards the glowing sign. I had a big smile on my face. I secretly loved how she let me hold her clammy hands all the time to guide her around.
