A Chapter by MCrouch

            I got to school that morning, but I don’t remember how. My hair was a mess, I forgot my backpack with all my things in it, and I was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. And I was drunk off my a*s.

            I stumbled through the doors of the school, narrowly avoiding being seen by Collin or Annie, and tried my best to walk in a straight line. I had a hard time not panicking when I spotted the school police officer, but I ducked into the bathroom and into a stall. This was a bad idea... s**t, this was a bad idea, was the only thing running through my mind.

            The bell rang for first hour, but I had no intention of moving from my hideout. Why did I even come to school? I thought. The world was slowly but surely becoming clearer. After what seemed to be about five minutes, two guys walked into the bathroom.

            “So he f*****g ran away with two grams and half a bottle of Jack. He’s such a prick,” one guy said. The other guy chuckled half-heartedly.

            “What did you do when you caught him?” he asked.

            “I fucked him up big time. Let’s just say, he’s probably sorry he doesn’t even have a mom to run home to and cry about it.”

            “Come on, Rob. I know that kid- he’s a nice guy,”

            Two f*****g grams Kalin! What was I supposed to do, blow him kisses as I watched him run away with my good s**t?”

            I had a pretty good idea as to who I was in the bathroom with now- well, I thought I knew who one of them was. Collin and Annie would sometimes bring up the infamous Rob McCormick when we got to talking. They thought he was pretty funny because of how stereotypically “rebellious teenage boy” he was, but I knew they were intimidated by him. Everyone was, but only because they thought they had to be. It was part of the stereotype. I was intimidated by him too, but mostly because I knew he was about to notice that he and his friend weren’t alone in the bathroom.

            “I dunno…That’s what you get for being a dealer. Now hurry, I want to be high before I go to Trig…S**t gets trippy,” Kalin said.

            “Alright, alright,” Rob said. They fell silent, so I held my breath and tried to not exist, but of course, Rob started checking underneath the stalls to make sure no one else was in there.

            “What the f**k…” he got to the stall I was hiding in and looked through the crack. “Who the f**k are you?”

            I swallowed hard and opened the stall with a shaking hand.

            “God, f*****g freshmen,” Rob said, laughing and looking over at Kalin, who was also laughing at me. Rob took me by the shoulder and looked into my eyes, his long, greasy black hair framing his face, and his electric blue eyes darting all around me. “Look! He’s wasted!” they laughed at me again. “Run along little one. This is no place for amateurs,” he said, shoving me out the door. I stumbled into the hallway, confused and nauseous. I tripped over my own feet on the way to the drinking fountain and took a few sips before retreating to my locker.

            The idea of Ryan’s existence at all in my mind was completely gone for a few moments… until I saw him walk through the main entrance of the school; backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, running a hand through his untamed jet black hair, completely unaware of his perfection and the affect it had on me. I panicked when I saw him, feeling my face flush red and all of the contents of my stomach begin to retaliate against me. He checked the time and frowned, picking up his pace to get to the class he was evidently late for. I remained invisible, which made me relieved but disappointed.

            The bell rang, signaling the end of first hour. I knew a good hiding place to go until some of the alcohol had worn off, so I started making my way over there, using other people as a cloak to sneak through the school unseen.

            There was a small, boxlike room within the courtyard with concrete walls that was usually vacant until the kids from 4th hour study hall intruded. I descended the three steps to the small outdoor room, and was startled to find someone else already occupying it. There was an older girl laying on the bench looking up at the sky. She had a fire engine red pixie cut and was wearing a dirty tee shirt with many holes in it that ended just above her belly button, a pair of very short jean shorts, combat boots on her feet and many necklaces and bracelets. Her eyes had lots of black makeup smudged all around them, and her pupils were dilated. When she saw me, she sat up.

            “Oh… you are a small person,” she said, her voice airy and disconnected.

            “Um, I can… I could leave if you want,” I said, blinking a few times. The girl giggled.

            “Are you drunk?” she asked. Without letting me respond she exclaimed, “Come sit by me!”

            I did so. “I’m not that drunk,” I said, hiccupping to really make my point.

            “You are. Kudos. But you didn’t do it for fun… you didn’t do it just to do it either, did you?” she asked.

            “Hmm… not really,” I shook my head.

            “You’re sad,” she said, touching my cheek very gently. I wanted to say something, I really did. I wanted to tell her “No, I’m not sad,” or “Yeah, I’ve been sad for my entire life,” or, “Who even are you?” but nothing seemed right. The word “sad” itself didn’t sound right. Maybe it was because it felt like an understatement, or because it was the perfect word for how I felt, but something about that statement made me unable to respond. I think the girl took the silence as a confirmation.

            “You don’t have to be sad. I’m sad too sometimes… but I can fix that really easily. It makes it easier to forget…” she got lost in her own words for a moment before starting up again, “Just ask Rob. He has all the happiness in the world. I’m sure he’d share with you,” she said.

            I figured she was referring to the same Rob I had briefly encountered not too long before and the “happiness” she was talking about was most likely drugs.

            “I’m not really into that,” I mumbled quickly.

            “It makes everything so easy to forget about,” she said quietly, almost to herself, looking back up at the sky.

            “What’s your name?” I asked.

            “Madison. What’s yours?” she asked back.

            “Anthony… you could call me Tony,”

            “You could call me Madison,”

            “Okay,” I said. She smiled, still looking up. I looked up too.

            “You should talk to Rob. He can help you… better than booze will help you,” she said.

            “When should I talk to him?” I asked.

            “He’ll be at my house this Friday. We’re going to have a fun time with lots and lots of people. Just show up,” she said, “He’ll have something for you if you ask nicely and have something to give him in exchange,”

“Okay,” I said. After a few moments of silence passed, the bell rang again, and I knew I couldn’t hide for much longer. Madison wrote her address on my forearm in permanent marker, and I left her alone to sink back into the sea of people in the hallways. I tried to look busy in my locker and blend in with the messy blur of students, but Collin came looking for me.

            “Where have you been all morning?” he asked, nudging my shoulder. I shrugged, mumbling some form of “I don’t know,” and digging further into my locker.

            “Tony, are you okay?” he asked, trying to look at my face.

            “Yeah… yeah, I’m totally cool,” I said, taking a deep breath and looking at him.

            “Have you been drinking?” he whispered, a mixture of panic and confusion filling his eyes.

            “N-no… yeah… I’m fine now, just a little, um…” between the alcohol still in my system and terror taking over my mind, I couldn’t even form words at all.

            “Oh my god… You need to go home before you get in serious s**t. Come with me,” he said, taking me firmly by the arm and leading me out the same doors I had watched Ryan walk through not too long before.

            Collin walked me home and made me lie down on my couch and drink a large glass of water.

            “Are you mad at me?” I asked meekly.

            “Not really… I mean, I’m just confused,” he said, sitting down across from me in the recliner next to the fireplace.

            “Me too,” I said quietly. We didn’t say anything else before I fell asleep and he went back to school.


            Dear Ryan,

            I’m not really sure why I decided to go to school drunk, but I did. I feel like I would do anything to make this feeling go away lately. Hopefully what this Madison girl says is true, and this Rob character really can help me. I think I’d do just about anything.

            I wonder if you ever feel like this. Maybe “sad” is the wrong word, but “depressed” sounds too medical. I wish I could talk to you and ask you if you ever felt like this. If I ever got the guts to talk to you, I don’t know if I’d ever stop talking. You’d probably think I was annoying. I don’t know. I probably never will.




© 2011 MCrouch

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Added on October 15, 2011
Last Updated on October 15, 2011




Hey there. My name is Madison. I love writing realistic fiction, mostly LGBT related. If you have any questions about my writing or anything, message me. c: more..

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