September 25: Brian

Brian

“Son. ” I hear an echo in the clouds. “Wake up.” The voice pulls me out of the clouds and closer to it. I struggle to stay in the atmosphere. “You’ve got school today.”
School. That one brings me down fast until I smack the cement. My eyes open and I look up at my dad. He is staring down at me from the door by my bed.
“I’ve got to get to the office,” he says in his stern, emotionless tone. “You’re going to have to get yourself up and get to school on time.”
“Sure,” I groan and turn my head over.
He stands there for a few seconds before turning around. A few minutes later, the front door closes. That is when I get up.
I take a quick shower and throw on some clothes. Dad bought me new ones, but I don’t wear them. I put one of my flannel shirts I’ve been wearing for a few years and a pair of my old jeans. I lace up a pair of black converses and check myself in the mirror.
My brown hair is getting long; it almost touches my shoulders now. I’ve been growing it out since Ruby and I broke up. Oh God, don’t think about her. I push her face out of my head and stare at my reflection. I should probably shave, but the scruff on my chin and cheeks makes me look older. I run my hands over my face and then back through my hair. I look good, I guess. Some people would say grungy, but I say comfortable. I’m comfortable.
I grab my book bag and hurry downstairs. I feel like an outsider in my own house. It’s huge, and filled with chrome and glass. I stick out. I don’t belong here. Dad’s putting his money from the firm to good use; he never leaves that damn office.
I pour a bowl of cereal and sit down in the front room. It is all white, from the carpet to the throw pillows. We aren’t supposed to wear shoes or eat in here. I don’t think you’re even supposed to breathe too heavy in here. I sit down on the couch and chew my cereal extra hard. I’m tempted to pour the whole bowl of Coco Puffs on the fluffy white carpet. I make sure to rub my dirty converses all over the couch. He probably won’t even notice.
The tall clock in the corner ticks so loudly. I have fifteen minutes to be at school. We live twenty minutes away. I guess I should go. I pick up my bag and keys and head out of the house without washing my dishes or wiping off the couch.
I get in my Nissan and turn up the radio as loud as it will go. My iPod is blasting Iron Maiden as I speed through the neighborhood of cloned houses. I keep one hand on the wheel, and use the other to pack a small bowl. I take a couple hits of the good weed, just enough to get to that perfect state of high. I can still function, but school will be more bearable. Eventually I am out of suburbia and into downtown. I pull into the parking lot with three minutes to spare; I don’t know how I did that.
I drag myself out of the car and hurry through the parking lot with the rest of the stragglers. School is not my strong point. Ever since sophomore year, I haven’t had any desire to do well in school. I’d much rather spend the day with my friends, on my skateboard with a cigarette in my hand. Especially after I broke up with Ruby, I’ve had no real reason to keep coming. Except that, I don’t have a choice.
I’m walking into the front lobby when the first bell rings. All of the freshmen scramble around quickly. The upperclassmen lag around for a few seconds before slowly heading to their homerooms. I follow the masses and head to Mr. Martin’s room. This is my first year in his class; I’m supposed to be in a senior homeroom, but I failed four classes last year. I’m stuck in this hell for another two years.
It’s kind of embarrassing to walk into the junior class. Most people around here know me. But I sit down next to some girl I’ve never seen before and wait for Mr. Martin to hand out the schedules. He turns on the television and a few seconds later, Ruby St. Clair’s face appears on the screen. I close my eyes. I almost forgot that she was our new president.
Ruby is my ex-girlfriend. We were together for almost four years before we broke up about eight months ago. Everything got crazy, I started changing, and she couldn’t handle it. I know everything was my fault. I screwed everything up. I wish more than anything that she would have stuck around.
I need saving.
She speaks to the class in her soft, sweet voice that I used to love so much. Now, it just makes me sick. She stands up there, all perfect and beautiful. I put my head down and listen for my name.
“Brian Phillips,” Mr. Martin calls. I throw my hand up and he gives me my schedule card. I look it over. Junior English (again), Algebra 2 (again), Chemistry (again), and Woodshop. This semester is going to kick my ass, but I don’t have a choice. I have to pass. If I fail another class, my Dad is going to send me to military school. I know they don’t allow weed or skateboards there.
I shove my schedule card in my pocket and wait with the rest of the class for the bell to ring. I force myself to tune out Ruby’s voice. When the bell finally rings, I get up quickly. My first class is in the next building. When I get outside, I see several familiar faces.
“What’s up, Brian?” I see my friend Charlie Holland. We shake hands and I pat him on the back.
“Hey, Charlie. What’s good, man?”
“Nothing, really.” He shrugs. “You down for chilling at the Laundromat after school?”
“Of course,” I assure him. The area around the Laundromat is one of our favorite places to skateboard.
“You got anything on you?”
I know what he means. “It’s in the car.” I point towards the parking lot. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
He grins a stupid stoner grin. I know he wants the weed, and he knows I’ve got it. That’s why everyone knows me. I’m the dealer at school. I don’t really have a lot of friends, just plenty of people looking for pot and willing to pay me for it. Reason number one Ruby broke up with me.
“Sweet, dude.” We shake hands again. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Bye, Charlie,” I say.
I hurry off to my English room, where a short old lady is standing at the front of the class. I head straight to the back and sit next to a guy that everybody calls Crash. I don’t really know him that well, but he seems cool. A few seconds later, my friend Evelyn Rhodes comes in. She sees me, heads towards the back, and sits in front of crash.
“What’s up, Ev?” I smile at her.
“Hey, Brian.” She fixes her thick, wavy hair.
“How was your summer?”
She shrugs. “Nothing special. My mom met some guy, and he just moved in with his pathetic freshman son. He’s a total loser.”
“That sucks. What’s his name?”
“Alex Reid. Trust me, don’t waste your time.” She rolls her eyes and turns back around.
I saw her a lot over the summer. I deal to her a couple of times a week. She’s not very popular around here, except with the guys. She’s tried making moves on me a couple of times, but I’m not interested in her ass. Just her money.
Once the bell rings, Mrs. Eller calls out the roll. Apparently, Crash’s real name is Winston. I laugh to myself when she calls on him. She goes over the basic rules and begins telling us about a project we’re going to have to do.
“You’re going to be working on a group project for the entire semester.” She hands out a sheet of paper.
“A film about what?” Crash asks as we all look over the sheet.
“Ah,” says Mrs. Eller. “That is the question. You are to get into groups of three or four, and make a video. The theme of your video is simple…” She smiles. “Life.”
I sigh. I hate teachers who try to be creative. Crash must agree with me, because he keeps talking to her.
“Can’t we just read Beowulf and learn how to write haikus?”
Mrs. Eller nods. “You could. But then you’d all be complaining about how boring my class was. You’d tell me it was just like all of the other English classes you’ve had. And that, ladies and gentlemen…” She stares straight at Crash.” Is the ultimate insult.”
Nobody says anything else, so she continues.” I will let you pick your groups, and for the remainder of the class you will discuss ideas for you Life films. Tomorrow we will talk about your first reading assignment.” She looks at Crash again. “Beowulf will come later in the semester. Go.”
Nobody moves for a minute, but when they do, I look at Evelyn. I don’t really know anybody else in the class, and most of them seem grouped up already.
“Hey Ev.” She turns around and looks at me. I know she was waiting for me to ask. “You wanna be in a group together?”
She looks at me with that I want you look. This could’ve been a bad idea. “Sure.”
I look over at Crash, who is just sitting there awkwardly.” What about you, Crash? We need a third person.” And I need someone to make sure Evelyn keeps her hands off of me.
“Why not?” Crash shrugs.
We push our desks together, and then stare at each other for a few seconds.
Crash speaks first.” So, what do you guys want to do for the project?”
I shrug. I really don’t want to do this. “We could film every day people in their normal lives. Try to get a few different perspectives on what life is.”
“What is life?” Evelyn says like a bimbo. “Oh this is going to be fun.”
Crash looks at his paper. “Well, it’s thirty percent of our final grade, so we’re going to at least have to pretend it’s fun. I can’t afford to fail.”
“Me either,” I agree. I can’t be in Junior English again.
We discuss options for our project, where we are going to get a video camera, and how we can do as little as possible and still get a good grade. I’m pretty sure I am in a group with the biggest slackers ever, but at least I don’t have to do too much work. When the period is almost over, Mrs. Eller gets back in front of the class and tries to talk loudly.
“Alright, get your seats back in order,” she says before the bell rings. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking about your literary requirements. I hope you all have a great first day.”
I’m still tingling just a little from the high. I go outside of the English building, where all of my friends are hanging out. I’ve been spending all summer with most of them, so this isn’t much of a reunion. I can tell a few of them are high too.
“What’s up, dudes?” I greet all of them under the breezeway. I shake hands with Charlie.
Lex, Thomas, Michael, and Donovan all skate around on their boards, trying to dodge the people. They all hop off and shake my hand.
“I need a cigarette already,” Michael says.
I nod my head. “Tell me about it. English was a total drag.”
“You gonna pass it this year?” Lex punches me lightly.
“Only if you pass geometry,” I reply with a grin. The guys all laugh and Lex, the only black one, blushes a little.
These are my friends, the guys. I’ve been friends with them for a little over two years, once I ditched the popular crowd and started smoking. I got sick of following them around in their tight and ugly pastel v-neck shirts. I’d pick my Nissan over their BMWs any day. And none of them would dare touch any weed.
The “stoners,” as my friends are labeled, get me. We like the same things: heavy metal, skateboarding, and marijuana. I can wear what I want, say what I want around them, and they don’t judge me. None of them has much money, so that’s not an object. It feels good to have friends that like you for you, not the car you drive or who your dad is. Even if they are a bunch of fuck ups.
The guys are laughing about something, but I’m not paying attention to them. I see Ruby walking by and my heart stops. Guys shouldn’t feel this way about a girl. Especially not about a girl who left you when you needed her the most. Her curls are just as tight as ever, and she glows. She stops and talks to Crash; I wonder how he knows her. Then I remember. Everyone knows her. Jealously beats at my heart and I turn away.
“Excuse me, boys.” I hear Mr. Hall’s booming principal voice. He’s talking to the four on their skateboards. “You know those are banned during school hours.”
Lex hops off his. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He’s being sarcastic. “I thought seniors got special privileges around here.”
“Well, Mister Chavis,” Mr. Hall says through his teeth. “The last time I checked, you were just barely a senior. So you better put that skateboard away and get on to class.”
“They really weren’t hurting anything,” I insist.
Mr. Hall looks at me. “Don’t give me any lip. You’re on thin ice yourself.” He looks hard at me. I know he’s trying to figure out if I’m high.
“It won’t happen again,” Donovan catches on and turns the attention to himself. “Please don’t give us detention,” he whines in a girly voice.
The guys laugh; I do too.
“That’s enough,” Mr. Hall says. “Get to class. Right now. And put those skateboards in your lockers. If I see them again, I will confiscate them.”
“Yes, Sir.” Lex salutes him. Sometimes they just don’t know when to quit.
Mr. Hall shakes his head and heads through the breezeway. I see him stop and talk to Ruby.
“See you guys at lunch,” I say to the guys. They all wave and we head to our second periods.
I’m already sick of algebra two before I even reach the classroom. I sit down in the back and lean my head against the wall. The only person in my class that I recognize is Jeoff Kente. He’s really smart; I wonder why he is only in algebra two. He sits near the front.
I stay attentive long enough to hear my name called on the roll. The teacher immediately begins a math review, and my eyes start to get heavy. I know I should pay attention. I can’t afford to fail this class again. It’s just a review though, so I don’t have to worry too much. Besides, I’m coming down from my high, which makes it hard to concentrate on anything.
Time creeps by slower than it ever has before. When the bell finally rings in my cloudy head, I get up with the rest of the kids and follow them out of the classroom. The teacher looks me up and down and shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. I get out of there fast. My chemistry class is right upstairs in the science department.
I can tell that Kate isn’t exactly thrilled to see me in her class again. She looks me over once and points to a seat right up in front. I groan and sit down on the stool. It’s probably for the best anyway. Military school. I shake the idea out of my head.
“Let’s get started.” Kate claps her hands together once the bell rings. She calls out the roll.
“Brian Phillips,” she looks up at me. “Nice to see you again.”
I don’t say anything back. She keeps reading down the roster. Once she’s finished, she puts on her circular-framed classes and puts a picture of the periodic table on the overhead.
“Chemistry,” she says with way too much enthusiasm. “It is fun. I promise you. And all of chemistry is based off of these little guys right here.” She points to the table.
“Can anyone tell me what this is?”
Nobody says anything for a few seconds. She puts her hands on her hips and taps her foot.
“The periodic table of elements,” someone in the back mumbles.
“Yes!” Kate jumps a little.
“Okay, let’s see how much you guys know.” She gets out a meter stick and points to an element.
“What element is this?”
Nobody says anything.
“Tough crowd,” she says quietly. “Alright, we’ll do it the hard way. Brian Phillips.” She looks right at me with an ugly grin. “What element is this?”
She’s point to the symbol ‘Al.’ Thank God it’s an easy one.
“Aluminum,” I mumble.
“Good,” she nods. She then throws me a tootsie roll. I don’t eat it. “Aluminum,” she repeats. “One of my favorite elements. It’s not just some foil used to wrap your cheeseburgers. It’s passivity allows it to resist corrosion very well.”
She gets a bunch of blank stares and chuckles.
“That means it’s very durable. It is a very strong element, especially when combined with other stuff. We’ll talk more about these types of things as the semester progresses.” She points to another element on the board. “Okay, Mister…” She looks at the roster. “Evans. What element is this?”
I zone out for the rest of class. She spends the entire period quizzing us on the elements. When the bell rings, I throw my tootsie roll in the trash and head to the cafeteria. Lunch is finally here, and I’m starving.
I hurry through the bag lunch line and buy a Coke. All of the cliques are in their spots. The populars are in the center, surrounded by their followers. I see Sam West picking at her food and smiling to her plastic friends. They sit there, ‘best friends forever.’ They don’t even know each other. I wonder if they know about those diet pills I sold her last year. She had to fit into her prom dress somehow.
Everyone has their place around here. They think once you are branded, you're stuck there forever. No way out. I got out.
I like to sit outside with my friends. It keeps me away from all the gold and glitter of the populars, and the fighting and drama between the blacks and the Puerto Ricans. I try to stay completely out of dodge when it comes to the Latin Kings. Their leader, Manny Aviles, hates me. It could be because my dad got his brother locked up, or because a lot of his connections started buying from me. Either way, I keep my distance. When I get outside to our spot, the rest of them are already there.
“What’s up, Brian?” Lex is sitting on the curb eating. I sit down next to him and watch the others skate while eating their lunches. I open up my lunch and scarf the turkey sandwich and bag of chips.
“You assholes are gonna get in trouble,” I say to Michael, Charlie, and Donovan.
Charlie shrugs. “Nobody ever comes out here, dude. We’re good.”
I consider this for a moment. He’s right. I shrug and look at Lex. “Can I borrow your board for a minute, dude?”
“Sure thing.” He hands it to me and finishes eating his food.
His board isn’t as good as mine is, but it is good enough. I hop off the curb and pick up some speed in the parking lot. I whiz around on the sidewalk, past a girl and a guy sitting on the bench by the memorial garden. They just stare at us, but I don’t pay attention. I skate by the emo kids. I wave at Janey, who buys weed from me sometimes. She waves back, but other than that they don’t pay much attention to me. Too busy comparing scars, I guess.
We turn a few tricks and I feel good. Skateboarding is a high in itself. I can’t wait to get to the park and get some good tricks in.
“Anybody want a smoke?” Michael pulls out a pack of Marlboros. We all reach for one and light up.
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper after the first puff. I take another one right after.
We only smoke half to avoid getting caught, but it tastes so good and I can’t wait for another one. The bell rings and we all groan.
“Never long enough, dude.” Donovan shakes his head slowly.
“I’ll see you guys after school.” I pat him on the shoulder.
“Meet right out here?” Lex asks.
“Sounds good,” Michael says.
My last class of the day is woodshop. Finally, a class that I haven’t already failed once and might actually be interesting. I head into the woodshop room. It smells like sawdust and paint. I immediately think of when my dad and I used to build stuff in his woodshop. Before everything changed.
The room is filling up fast, so I sit somewhere in the middle. The teacher is a short, middle-aged man with a bald head and a shirt almost identical to mine. He looks like a fun teacher though, and for the first time all day, I get a little bit excited.
“Come on and take a seat,” he says, and waves someone in.” Don’t be shy.”
We all turn around. I see the geeky girl from lunch walking slowly from the back. I think she’s the vice president this year. She looks terrified. She takes a seat in the back.
The bell rings and our teacher looks at his watch. “Well, it’s about that time. So let’s get started. I am Mister Henley. You can call me Mike. I’m your teacher, yes. But I’m really just here to make sure nobody loses a finger.”
We all chuckle. I think I like Mike already.
“In this class, you’re going to be working on several different projects. I realize that you are all on different levels of skill here. Some of you are already masters of the craft.
“Others of you have probably never touched a power saw in your life.” He looks back at the girl. We all laugh.
“Don’t worry about it. In here, you can take your time. Learn at your own pace. As long as I see you giving your best effort, you’ll pass just fine. This class isn’t like other classes.” He points towards the door. “I’m not going to shove a bunch of facts down your throat or give you a test every week. Here, it’s about being an artist. It’s about creating something that is your own. And I’m going to teach you- No,” he corrects himself. “I’m going to show you how.”
“Sorry I’m late.” I recognize that voice. I know that it’s Evelyn without even having to turn around.
“It’s alright, Evelyn.” Apparently, he already knows her. “Have a seat. I was just about to call out your partner assignments. I tried to pair my advanced students with students that are beginners. This will help in the learning process. Our peers are our best teachers.” ”
He starts down the list and I wait for my name. I get paired with some kid named Richie. He’s got bad acne and he smells like a pop tart.
“You boys will be at station three,” says Mike.
“Have you ever taken any kind of shop classes before?” Richie asks once we are at our station.
“No,” I say. “But I’ve been doing this kind of stuff since I was little.”
“Cool.” Richie nods. “Me too.”
Once we are all at our stations, Mike starts the lecture. “For your first assignment, you’ll be learning the basics. Take your books home and read chapter one.” He starts passing out a big packet of information. “I’m handing out guides with pictures of all of the tools and equipment you’ll be using. Study this,” he says seriously.” You won’t be touching any of this stuff until I know that you know what you’re working with.
“This class can be very fun if you choose to make it that way. But, please keep in mind that you are surrounded by power drills and wood saws. So, let’s talk about safety.
“The number one rule is to pay attention. If you lose focus for even a second, you could lose something else too.” He sticks up a pointer finger and we all laugh.
He continues on about rules and safety regulations. It’s nothing I don’t already know, but I flip through the packet and take everything in. I think I’m actually going to like this class. There are candle holders, birdhouses, and other stuff on the list.
I think Richie is going to be a good partner; he seems to know what he’s doing. But he’s breathing heavy beside me and I want to punch him in his jaw.
A few stations away, I notice Riley Sutton sitting with the geeky girl, whose name is apparently Audrey. That kid hates me. He has ever since my dad put his dad away. People around here love to hate my dad. And I get the blame for him being a good lawyer. I don’t know what happened, but Riley’s eyes sear into my soul. I turn away quickly and focus on Mike.
“Don’t forget to have your parents sign the liability forms,” he says just as the bell rings. “And bring them back tomorrow, or you’ll be doing book work until they get signed.”
We all gather our things and hurry to the door. I go out the side door, which is right by the student parking lot. The parking lot floods with people hurrying to their cars. All of the anticipation for the first day is over; now they are just ready to get out of here. I know the feeling.
I wait on the sidewalk for the guys. Lex and Charlie arrive together. Michael and Donovan come up a few seconds later.
“Let’s peace,” Lex says once we are all accounted for.
“Okay, so we’ll see you guys at Tony’s?” I look at Michael, Donovan, and Charlie.
“Yeah, Man.” Donovan shakes my hand. He and Michael walk to his car, and Charlie walks to his.
“Let’s go,” I say to Lex. We get in my Nissan and I start to back out of my spot.
“Watch it, asshole!” I hear a voice behind the car. I stick my head out the window. It’s Anderson Stone. We used to be pretty cool, before I quit the football team and ditched his crowd.
He realizes it’s me and his expression changes. As much as I want to hate Anderson, I still consider him somewhat of a friend. He’s a good guy; he just fell into the inferno of labels and blonde hair. I couldn’t do it.
“Sorry, man,” I say genuinely. Had it been anyone else, I would’ve gotten out and started a fight.
“It’s cool, bro.” Anderson shrugs. “I didn’t see you coming.” He stands there awkwardly for a second. “I’ll see you around, Brian. Practice.”
“Alright.” I nod. Once he’s past us, I back out of the space and hurry out of the parking lot.
“What a dick,” Lex says about Anderson. “I can’t stand those rich assholes. They think they own this place and everyone in it.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Glad I got away from that.”
“Me too,” Lex agrees.
Tony’s skate park is in downtown. It’s not in one of the safest places in town, but the guys there are pretty cool for the most part. Lex and I get there last. The parking lot is tiny, because the park is behind a bunch of buildings. Not many people know about it, which is nice.
“Let’s hit a bowl,” Donovan says before I am even out of the car yet.
I go to the trunk, where I keep everything. When I open it, the smell of weed almost knocks us down. It smells delicious. I pack a bowl and we each take a few hits off of it. The weed is good, the best. We are high within a few minutes and we take our boards and head to the park.
There are a few guys skating around the park and a few girls at the picnic tables watching them and giggling. I hate when chicks come to the skate park. But I’m too high to really notice. I hop on my board and slide down one of the ramps. The guys follow me and we all start doing tricks. The weed slows everything down and speeds it up at the same time. It’s a rush as I slide down rails and jump over benches.
We show up the other guys by a long shot. They are amateurs, and they quickly get intimidated. After about an hour or so, we stop and take a few more hits from the bowl. We do it out in the open; nobody comes around here.
“Hey dude.” One of the guys approaches us. “Can I get a hit of that?”
Normally I would kick his ass and tell him nothing is for free. But I’m feeling generous, and we’ve got plenty to spare. So I give him and his friend a hit.
“Thanks, man,” they mumble. I don’t answer.
Around five, we start to get hungry. Weed and intense skateboarding will do that to you.
“Let’s go over to Yang’s,” I suggest. The guys agree. This is what we do every day: skate for a few hours, get food at Yang’s Minimart, we smoke and eat outside of the Laundromat, and then we skate until the park closes and police start patrolling.
Yang’s is right by the skate park. It’s warm in there, and Yang, the owner, waves to us when we come in. I get my usual: a bag of cheetos, two snowballs, and raspberry lemonade.
We pile our snacks on the counter and Yang starts to ring them up.
“I got it this time,” Michael offers. He pulls out his wallet and we all mutter thank you’s.
The Laundromat is next to Yang’s. The whole street corner smells like fabric softener and Mexicans. We sit on the benches on the sidewalk and eat our snacks. We smoke while we eat. I stretch my legs out and look up at the sky that is turning purple and pink. This, this right here, is good.
When I’m done with my food, I hop back on my board and ride up and down around the sidewalk.
“Hey, guys,” I turn around to them. “Check this out.” I prepare to fly off the curb, but I am stopped short. Someone bumps into me and I jump off my board.
“Whoa, sorry man.” I step up beside him. “Sorry about that, I didn’t see you coming.”
“It’s fine.” He reaches down and picks up the bag he dropped.
“You new around here?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says softly.
“Yeah, I didn’t think I recognized you.” He looks maybe fifteen or so.” Where are you from?”
“I just moved here from Virginia.” He doesn’t make very much eye contact.
“Cool.” I nod. “I’m Brian. Brian Phillips. You go to Five Points?”
“Yeah, I’m a freshman.” I knew it.
“Cool.”
“I’m Alex.” We shake hands.
“Alex,” I repeat. “Alex Reid?”
“Yeah.” He looks at me funny.
I chuckle. I must be really freaking this kid out.” Are you the Alex Reid that just moved in with Evelyn Rhodes?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I’m her...” I pause for a second. “Her friend.”
“Oh,” he says. “Cool. I didn’t know she had many of those.”
I laugh.” She doesn’t.”
“Hey Brian,” I hear Lex‘s voice behind me. “We’re gonna go light up again. You coming?”
“Yeah,” I call back to him. I face Alex again. “Guess I’ll see you at school, Alex.”
“See ya,” he mutters.
I pick up my board and start walking back to the park with the guys. What a weird kid.
“What was that all about?” Charlie asks.
“He’s new here.” I shrug. “Just moved in with Evelyn Rhodes.”
“Gross,” Lex and Donovan both say.
I pack two bowls and we smoke them quickly. I get so high that I can barely skate anymore. The other guys do too.
“I should go home.” Donovan says. “I got homework and shit to do.”
We all laugh way too loud. “Me too, man,” I say slowly.
“My mom has called me eight times.” Charlie looks at his phone. “I guess I should go, too.”
“Alright.” I start to shake their hands. “I guess I’ll check you guys tomorrow.”
“Later, man.” Charlie hugs me and heads to his car.
“Let’s go, Lex.” We get in my Nissan and pull out of the tiny lot. Lex doesn’t live anywhere near me, but he doesn’t have a car. So Charlie, Donovan, and I take turns driving him and Michael.
We listen to Kid Cudi and smoke cigarettes. We don’t talk about much of anything; we never talk much. When we get to his old trailer, he gets out slowly. He’s still pretty high.
“Thanks for the ride, dude.”
“No problem, man,” I assure him. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright, bro.”
I drive slowly through the streets. The lights blur all around me, and I float. I float on a cloud of bright lights, loud music, and weed. I make it home, somehow. Of course, my dad is still at work. The huge house is cold, dark, and empty.
I go into the kitchen and check the phone messages while I eat a bag of pretzels.
“Hey, Son.” It’s my dad. “I just wanted to call and let you know I’m not going to be home for dinner. Make yourself anything you want. I left fifty dollars on the counter this morning. I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope you had a great first day.” Click. I love you, too.
“John? Brian?” The voice is a woman’s. “It’s Mom. I’ve been calling, but nobody ever answers. I guess you guys are busy. I hope you guys will come and visit me soon. It’s lonely here. I miss you guys.”
Mom.
She’s been gone since I was ten. She was in prison. And then she went to rehab. Dad didn’t tell me all of the details until I was fifteen, when she got out of prison. She used to be an alcoholic. She was driving drunk one day and she hit a car in the opposite lane. The other driver died; she got ten years. Since my dad is such a good lawyer, he got her out after five. But she had to go to rehab. She’s been there for two years. I haven’t seen her since I was ten.
Her voice sounds different over the machine. It sounds empty, clear. There are no slurred, candy-coated words. I delete the messages, and I don’t plan to tell my dad about it. Maybe I should visit her. But she’s a killer. I brush the thoughts out of my head and put the pretzels away.
I turn on every light in the house and go down to the basement. My dad had this room decorated when I was fifteen. It is one of our hang out spots. There is a pool table, a bunch of old couches, and a big screen TV. There is a snack bar that he keeps stocked, too. I guess he thinks if he gives me everything I could ever even think about wanting, we don’t actually have to talk. He stays at work until all hours of the night, then gets up and goes right back. He’s addicted to it. That is us; a house full of addicts.
I grab a coke from the snack bar and sit down on one of the couches in front of the TV. I’m slowly coming off of my high. My body tingles all over. I’m not ready to come down just yet, though. I take out the safe stashed behind the TV and open it up.
I pull out a piece of aluminum foil and straighten it out. Then I take out another piece and roll it into a tight tube. I’m done with the weed for today. I need something a little stronger. I pull out a small bag of meth and sprinkle a little bit of it on the foil. I don’t use it too often, but I’m craving it right now. The meth will take my mind off of everything; school, Ruby, my mom. I wish I had someone to talk to besides the drugs. I consider calling Lex. But  he's probably already passed out. So I sit. In my big house. Alone. With no one. I deal all day. I just wish somebody knew my deal. But the meth knows. Crank is about to be my best friend.
I pick up the foil, heat it up, and smoke it quickly. Instantly, I feel the rush. My skin crawls and I’m taken away. I feel nothing and everything at the same time. I lie down on the couch and let the high take me away.

Higher. Higher. I’m gone.