I run until my legs are sore and until I can see my Mustang in the parking lot. I press the key on my starter for a quick getaway, and I am all set. My sneakers thud on the pavement as i run toward my car, panting and my heart racing hundred miles a minute. I I think about is getting the hell out of here.
I throw open the door and throw myself on the leather interior. I put the keys in the ignition and book it out of there faster than you could say it. I pop in the bullet for my valentine c-d i had laying on the floor, and it plays, rather loudly but i don’t reach for the volume. Instead i press the accelerator and speed towards Montague with no intention of coming back. I speed toward the intersection as I hear my phone ringing, I flip on the blue tooth and say hello.
“ Hey man.” I don’t want to talk to this prick.
“What do you want?” goddam it, Id rather talk to my parents. Or the principal. Or not.
“Did you get the package?”I looked over at the passenger seat. If he was referring to the bag full of weed that sat in my trunk unopened, then no. I was intending to deliver it as soon as i got some time to myself, and since i couldn’t keep it in my locker due to the recent drug raids that were happening I couldn’t very well deliver it, could I?
“Ugh no man, I’ve been busy lately” I’m so f*ing screwed.
“Yeah well im starting to go out of business man” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Why the f*** do i always get into these f*ing scenarios?
“Yeah, well GUESS i could come drop it off anytime. You still live up in Mill Town right?”
“Yeah, by the Ole church.” his voice flickered in the phone.
“K man” Click, and i placed my other hand back on the wheel. Might as well not kill myself while dropping off some drugs. Not that i really cared. I slowed down enough so that i was cruising. I opened all the windows and let the cold air rush through my mustang like wildfire, filling my lungs with pure fresh air. I hope that me slowing down wouldn’t give the cops enough suspicion to pull me over and search my trunk. Even if they did pull me over, they would still smell the weed from the window, which would definitely f*** me over big time. I took a quick glance at the speedometer to check exactly how fast I was going. I read eighty clicks, which is good. I really hate going slow, it really defeats the whole purpose of performance engines, which i think is a disgrace to society in my opinion. I dialled |Eric's number and pressed the green button on the console. I heard a beeping noise and said hello.
“Hey Eric, it's H” I waited for the answer.
“Oh, Hey man, just got outta bed, there was a wild party last night, you should have went, i never see you at party’s anymore man.” a party sounded really tempting right now.
“Yeah, listen I'm on my way down to deliver the package.” Short, sweet and to the point. After all, i wasn’t planning for this to be a social visit. I had way more things on my mind to do. Or see. Or not do.
“Okay, I'll just throw on some pants man, See ya then.” Line clicked. Five driving minutes later i pulled in his driveway, spinning up the gravel on one side. I slammed my Stang into park and threw my keys on the dash. I opened my trunk and there it was. Thirty-seven grams of fresh weed, worth approximately One-Hundred and Twenty dollars on the street. I grabbed a duffel bag, threw it over my shoulder and started walking towards the door. I'm the weed man, I thought as i walk up the stone steps.
“Buddy!” Eric called as he opened the door and saw me. From what he was wearing i don't think he even left the house today, judging from his clothes. He was wearing grey PJ pants that were dragging on the ground as he walked. Too long. Hanging on his neck, was a silver cross the shined as he turned with the light. I didn’t think that Eric was the type of guy to be religious, but then again you wouldn’t think I, of all people had a soft side. But enough about that.
“There's Thirty-seven grams here man.” I said, as i handed him the duffel bag. He seemed to inspect it for a few seconds, then he grinned.
“Thanks man.” Then he gave me a big bro hug and disappeared inside. I still got a few more packages to be delivered to the other customers. Oh well. F*** it. F*** them all. I told myself I would do this, and not pussy out. Be a man. I back down the driveway kinda slow for what I’m used to, and I leave the radio off because my head is pounding and my hands are twitching and my knees are shaking. Also, I would probably drive it through the windshield if it came on, that’s how bad i hurt. I listen to the musical rhythmic sounds of my engine, roaring like a beast, just before a storm. God, it sounded sexy. I could listen to this all day, I really could. I cruise down main street, tethering the idea of whether or not i should go back to school or not. I could definitely screw with the teachers heads, and that was pretty fun. I put on my signal light and turned into the driveway for the school, with my fingers now trembling wrapped around the wheel. |As much as i didn't wanna go back, I had to. There was something i had to do, get over with and it started with my geography class.





I walked in the door with my head held high, wanting to get pretty high. My body was taking the toll of not using for a few days and i didn't really like the feeling at all. The only reason why, was because school just started back and i wanted to turn over a new leaf and not go back to using, but I’m starting to think this was a bad idea. Car keys in my pocket, i knew i could escape if i needed to.
“Where are YOU coming from Mr. Emerson?” I turned around to see the b****'s of all b****'s standing before me. Ms. McDonald. The vice Principal, staring at me, full of curiosity. I turned my back to her and started walking towards my locker, which was, (Surprise, surprise) on the second floor. “No where, really” Then started walking hoping she wouldn't follow. Don't even get me started on her. Let's just say, she didn't really have my best interests at heart. I stopped at the stairs and looked up. Long stairs, and i could feel my knees starting to shake again. Oh f*** off,I am NOT using, so stop it. I'm not giving in. I'm not giving in. Lift your goddamn foot. I can do this. Once i got to the top floor, i looked around for a garbage can, so i could hide the evidence. I chucked the full package of pot in the can, with a flick of my fingers.
“Hey, man” Jesse Called from about five feet away, although his voice seemed rather distant.
“Ugh Hey?” I said slowly. I could feel myself starting to lose to this battle already going inside my head.
“We were having bets on whether or not you'd come back or not. Lana owes me Fifty bucks.” He seemed to be a little sarcastic.
“ ...and who the f*** is she?” I wasn't really good at names, and my patience was getting pretty thin. But the name sounded familiar.
“She’s in your Geography class man, Jesus man, you need to observe some things” He flicked at his pants. I stopped observing things ever since I became acquainted with the drugs. Its not that i lost my personality, it really dulled. Kinda sucks sometimes....But anyway, that name rings a bell.
“Wanna walk me to class man?” Really, the last thing i wanted to do was go back to class, but anyway. I had to do something with my life, instead of just sitting around and doing F***-all. I looked down at my shoes, something i do a lot when I’m thinking of something, or rather trying NOT to think. Trust me, thinking is hard not do think about. Trippy.
I had resource next, but I didn't really mind, since i wouldn’t be doing much work anyway, just sitting around, pissing off the teachers to no living end, oh, and probably getting sent to the office while in the process. I swear to satin, that’s the only threat that all of the teachers have, is”'getting sent to the office', like seriously that’s just an empty threat, it doesn’t actually teach jack. Ms Mac-b****, (A.K.A- Ms MacDonald) didn’t really like me that much, and i wasn’t really on her good side either these days because the other vice principal, whats her face, i cant remember her name, went on a trip somewhere and left this b**** in charge. I was outta school almost every day of the f*ing week because of her little suspension frenzy s. Didn’t really bother me THAT much, but I can tell you who it did bother though. My parents...not much to tell but they kicked me out because that one night when the cops showed up, well they weren’t really too pleased with that. Where do I live now? Well, Jesse has an apartment in lower Montague so he took me in on one condition: I had to drive him anywhere he wanted to go, no questions asked. But yeah, that’s my screwed up home life for ya. I guess you could say its my own fault, but I personally blame my rents for most of my current drug use. Like i mean, if they kept me home, im sure i wouldn’t be as hard into drugs as i am now. I could move back in, they say if i “Cleaned up”, but what does that even mean? But anyways. I opened my locker for no random reason, really, just to kill some more precious seconds before i had to go back to class. UHHHH.
“What are you doing this weekend man?” Leaning up against the locker was Jesse, my friend since grade eight. His eyes were a little red, and that could only mean one thing.. Hes happy. Slammed my locker shut, and I faced him.
“Get drunk” then started walking away towards the elevator. F*** taking the stairs, all the kids in the wheelchairs could kiss my ass, I was feeling lightheaded.
“Sounds like a plan, you coming to the party this weekend?” what day was this anyways? Oh yeah its Wednesday. I’m actually gonna give that some serious thought. I need to clear my head, and what a wonderful opportunity to drink and snort your worries away. No, i said i wouldn't use anymore. Stop and think. The last two parties I couldn't attend because i had 'Business' to do. And you know what that means, i don’t have to spell it all out, word for word.
“I'll Try man, can't guarantee it though” I actually didn't really enjoy going to parties all that much. Last time i went, this girl tried to get all hot and heavy with me in one of the back bed-rooms upstairs. Now let me tell n ya, i wouldn’t have a problem with that, but i do have some values hidden WAY inside me.
Well, here goes nothing i thought as i walked through the door, with my books shoved under my arm. My baggy jeans dragging on the floor, its a wonder i didn';t trip and fall on my face walking to my seat. I would have totally looked like a f*ing d bag in front of HER. Hey, shes in my family living class to, Id be dammed. Probably wondering what a guy like me is doing in a family living class, aren’t yeas? Well i am wondering that myself; I thought it would be good for me to learn some other things besides how mulch a gram of weed costs. Maybe its because i wanna prove to myself that I can do it. Last year I got kicked out for vandalizing the gym lockers. Oh, boy let me tell you, that wasn't an easy ride. When i was arrested, they made me do two-hundred and twenty five hours of community service in exchange for jail time; and that’s when my parents got really pissed off and kicked m out.; I guess they couldn''t handle it anymore. I don’t know if i can even handle MYSELF anymore.

But yeah, i walked in and sat in my seat expecting the worst, when i hear someone talking; the teacher.
“Why are you late, do you have a note?” I automatically looked at my shoes.
“No, i don't” I kept looking at my shoes, hoping she would leave me alone. Black converse. They were actually the real expensive ones. Without interrupting her teaching, she threw in my direction:
“Go, and get a late note then.” I started to get out of my seat, not in any mood to argue, which was weird for me. I would fight until I only had one leg left. I'll just swing by the guidance office and make up some lame story, and get a free late pass. This usually worked. I grabbed my books and walked out of the door, hearing whispering voices behind my back. I could hear one word: Idiot. I didn't want to get kicked out again, as I would love to finish high school, and prove to myself, and my parents that I am not worthless. And also prove that there is more to me than just blood-shot eyes, and cigarette burns on the interior of my mustang. I walked into student services and sat down on one of the three couches that they have there, and put my feet up. It was no less than a minute later when one of the counsellors walked out, and acknowledged me. Mr. MacLeish, my favourite person to ever work in a educational institution. The rest of the teachers and staff were all pricks, especially Ms. MacDonald.
“Harrison, come back for another visit?” he sat down on the couch and faced me, searching for any kind of trouble. Leave it to Mr. MacLeish to search your soul for any thing. He finds it.
“I was hoping you could write me a late note” I looked down at the floor, once again. I don't like eye contact, and that was one of Mr. MacLeish's biggest things was: eye contact. Besides he would have found trouble in mine.
“Again?, H, this has got to stop, you come in here every day looking for a late note, are you in any kind of trouble, is there anything you would like to talk about?” I thought about that for a second. Yeah, lots of things. Finally, he walked toward his office and wrote me a pink slip that said I had permission to be late. It finally clued in to me that he could see the marks I had on my arms, so I pulled my sleeves down, and looked him straight in the eye as I said it:
“I don't want to talk about it” One thing I learned about this guy, is that he actually listens.