Worn to the very soles, it is a constant gamble to expect my fraying Converse to last much longer - just as Obi Wan, they are my only hope. My feet sweat against the hot cement as I walk to school, the rubber bottoms smudging off in the heat. All in all, I have thirty-nine school days including today until we have to appear in court. That is thirty-nine work days, thirty-nine days that I will be searching for a case, a plea, a lawyer, a way out of this crapfest. Just as I lose hope and faith in myself, I catch sight of my slightly-older savior wearing the most ridiculous outfit I’ve seen since being forced to examine Karen’s school albums from the eighties.
“Dude, your face looks awful!” He says, not even hesitating to insult me as he approaches - but that’s Andrew for you.
“Argh, you beat me to it - I was just about to insult your pants. What the heck are you wearing, boy?” I mock in retaliation to his furrowed brow. “My grandma called, she wants her bloomers back.”
“Shot to the heart, truly, Grey. Really though, what happened to your freaking face, man?” He smiles as I wince.
“Uhh, bar fight.” I lie.
“Seriously? Yo’ momma is so protective, she wouldn’t even-”
“Hey, you know my rule, no making fun of my Karen.” I laugh, and really laugh even though it hurts when my face scrunches up from the scabs near my eye.
“Why the freak do you call your mom Karen?” Andrew points out, I narrow my eyes.
“The freak? What’s with you and saying ‘freak’ all of the sudden? I’m freaking the freak out!” Why do I even know him? Oh, that’s right - geek night at the Star Trek Lounge.
“Freak is in, homie. Karen, not so much.” Andrew shrugs like I should have known this all along, as if I were in the “hip” loop or something. But dude, “homie” died before Lincoln.
“If it isn’t Grey and the Freak himself. Dang I’ve missed you guys. I hate vacations now, like, officially.” Lou, she is one of my… Friend… Girls… Yeah, not girlfriend but my companion that just happens to be female. “What are you two up to, Andrew is never at school early.”
“I was just telling this idiot that ‘freak’ isn’t something that is considered… ‘in’.” I reply rather smugly.
“Oh.” She sighs, I suppose we should have been talking about a new movie release or prank or dare-I-say, homework. “Grey! What the freak happened to your freaking eye?!” I roll my eyes… Eye, at her. Lou was never, never really dressed up, which doesn’t bother me, but it sometimes gets on my nerves. The chick is always complaining about her soul mate being so close and yet so far - but she isn’t even trying. I mean, no effort, no reward. But what’s worse is that she could be hot, like, really hot. God, she’s a hard one to work with. I feel bad, I really want to help her. She is always there for us and we are a pain in the anus - sometimes even literally, we stressed this guy out so bad two years ago he got an ulcer and a rash in a rather unpleasant area.
So she puts up with us, yeah, but she also sticks up for us and is always there when we need her, she’s like my private guardian angel… Just, doesn’t look that much like one. But she could if she tried. That's what baffles me, she's resistant to change - she has a choice in her life, what she looks like and who she flirts with, but me? I am stuck with a rundown mother and no good father that hasn't bothered to see me, call me, email me since I was three and a half years old. I have to be realistic, I can't stop this court case from happening, and I can only tell the truth - there is a certainty that he will do nothing of the sort. Not only will Charles stretch the truth when he gets a chance, but he'll make the lies hard to believe, which I have decided will be my only advantage.
"What's eating you?" That's one good thing about Andrew, he can just tell that something is wrong - call it a superpower. The downside to that is the fact that now I have to tell him. If it were Lou that had asked me, I would just have to give her a certain glance and she would know not to push me for an answer. But Andrew...
"Just some... Family stuff." I look at the cracked ground, grateful to be under the overhang in the school courtyard that can provide a sliver of shade just large enough to block the sun from my eyes so I don't have to squint so hard. The worst things are always on the brightest days.
"Oh, Karen stuff." He concludes - he's not totally wrong, however he is also completely incorrect on a different level. Before I can even open my mouth to respond, Lou is already to my rescue.
"You dope, he would have said Karen problems if he was talking about Karen stuff. Grey, what's going on, really?" I raise my eyebrows, catching sight of a bargain.
"Tell me who your crush is and I'll tell you." She contemplates this for a moment, but briskly shakes the thought out of her head and grins.
"As if." The smug girl crosses her arms and leans on her left hip, her curly brown hair mimicking her attitude. I roll my eyes and look to Andrew for help, as usual, his attention is somewhere else. Waving my hand in front of his face, he brushes me away and nods once in the direction he is staring which is somewhere over my shoulder. In response I turn, curiosity getting the better of me yet again.
Lacey Memming.
The hottest girl in school. She comes from a German heritage giving her a flawless face, chocolate eyes, a long neck that is set perfectly under a narrow jaw. She could be a movie star without a doubt. Her lips are plump and pink and her walk is amazing - like the rest of her of course. Not to mention her hair, it is naturally nearly white. She is an angel if I've ever seen one. And her accent is to die for, not to mention that she isn't some snooty, rich girl you'd typically expect. She is a farm girl, a rich farm girl but a farm girl - which is hot.
All too suddenly I am snapped into my sad reality as a hand waves in front of my face “Uh, hello? Conversation, Karen stuff? Grey!” Louise, let me have my moment for the love of God! Can’t a guy dream? It should be illegal to detach a man from romantic fantasies.
“Would you knock it off, Lou? I’m trying to pretend that I have a love life and ignore the fact that…” Four eyes stare me down, making me shrink - why tell them? Lou places a hand on my shoulder, as if that could actually make me feel better. Her hand on my shoulder isn’t going to heal anything, it just can’t no matter how freaking much I wish it would. “Nevermind.”
“You can tell us, it’s not like we have anybody to tell anyways.” Andrew laughs nervously and then attempts to blend it into a fake cough, turning his eyes to his feet. Lou doesn’t even think twice and slugs him in the shoulder.
“Freak was right about the first part there, Grey. You can tell us anything.” He wasn’t so wrong about the second part either. That’s one thing that the three of us have in common - we have our little trio and that about sums up all of the important people in our lives that don’t compromise as soon as something goes south.
Though Lou’s offer is tempting, I shake my head. The bell should ring any minute anyhow - why bother dragging them into this?
“Grey,” now her hand clasps around my shoulder and I have no choice but to face her. Inhaling, she prepares to say something of more meaning than she can seemingly muster.
“Dude! How old are your freaking shoes?!” Freak points down at my feet and gasps - he has known me for how long and just now realized my pathetic footwear, I feel the love just radiating off him and my response is a genuine eyeroll. Shoving him by his chest, Lou lets out the tomboy in her.
“Dang it, Freak! I was just starting to get somewhere! Why in God’s name did you have to open your fat yap?!” Both he and I find it difficult not to chuckle, she is dead serious and totally right. Andrew can’t focus or keep his mouth shut for the life of him. “Grey don't you even start with me. Tell me what the heck is going on.” What do I have to lose?
“My old man found his way back into my life is all.” She looks past me at the street beyond our school entrance, somehow drawn to the heat rebounding from the concrete. “No, we are not skipping school.” I say, reading her mind.
“It’s not skipping it's just…” She scoots past me opening her arms to the world, “Taking a well-earned break. Dang it Grey, have fun for once in your life! The window of opportunity is wide open and you’re just looking out it!”
“Karen will kill me.” I retort.
“Karen will never know.” I shoot her a questioning look. “Is yo’ momma home?” She knows the answer, Karen is at work as usual. I shake my head in response. “Then that is the first place we go.” I can’t deny a plan when I hear one. “Since our friend, Freak, is the master signature forager, we will have him make a note for the three of us, Grey you come up with inconspicuous excuses that don't add up, I’ll kindly break into your house and call in to excuse you since I am a girl and as it turns out, so is your mother.”
I sigh. “Riddle me this, who delivers the notes to the office? I mean, if we are too busy to be at school then why would we be, you know, at school?”
“I never said that the plan is foolproof. C’mon, we can figure out the details later.” I open my mouth to object, but Lou won't allow it. “Are you coming or not? I have to load Freak’s fat butt into my car, so we’re kind of pressed for time.”
“We shouldn't.” something is just itching in the back of my mind.
“Grey, you're a sick person and I have the cure, but you have to be willing to accept it. We don't even have to travel far for the antidote, there's a Starbucks on every freaking corner.” Yes yes yes yes I love coffee…. But we shouldn't just skip... and if someone finds out, it's not guaranteed that it will even work and I have a chemistry test is Mr. Doulagough’s... (okay, so his name is ridiculous, but for those who may be curious as to how it is pronounced it is Do-la-go. It's the ‘a’ that throws people off, it's not pronounced “uh”, it's more like when the doctor tells you to say “ah”. So it is Doo-la-a-note-to-follow-so-go). We just shouldn't.
“See, that’s the problem with you, Grey, you think too much,” not possible “and you end up missing the opportunities right in front of you.”
“Answer my questions with validity and rational thinking, then I’m in.” She huffs at me, more than annoyed. Her face grows dull as she allows her eyelids to drop half mast. “Who is going to deliver the notes, that’s all that I am wondering.” Andrew and Lou share a sly glance, and a symmetrical grin slips onto both of their faces as they somehow communicate the idea betweenst each other.
“How about Aunt Avril?” She replies as more of a statement than a question.
“Not Aunt Avril.”
“Yes, Aunt Avril.”
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