Chapter Text
A new day, a new locker I think. Fuck, I just can't catch a break. The locker is cramped, my legs are going numb and I think I’m running out of air. That may be my fault though, it smells like fish in here.
Who’s locker is this anyways?
I try to lift my arm so I can look at my watch, only a few seconds and…
Ding, dong, brrring, BOOM
The bell for lunch, God I hope that this person used their locker.
Click. Creeeaaak. Light flooded my eyes, then I heard a scream. A red headed girl was running away. I step out of the locker, adjusting my tie. I would scream and run too if I found someone in my locker too I guess. I head down the hallway, trying to get outside. My friends and I always sit outside for lunch, it makes us less of targets. It’s warm when I step outside and sunny, it doesn't take me long to spot Ray’s fro and Tré’s grass green hair.
“Hey guys.”
Ray looks up at me, “Hey dude, where were you in math?”
I plop down, criss-crossing my legs. “Lizzie Jones’s locker.”
“Damn, again? Who was it last time?” Tré pipes up, handing me the other half of his ham and cheese sandwich. I peel off the ham and hand it back to him, biting into the bread.
“I think it was that one guy who’s friends with Brendon, Ryan? George?”
“George Ryan Ross III?” Billie Joe’s voice chokes through the air as we turn and spot him, he's completely baked.
I nod, “Yeah, him. Are you okay? You're like, super high.”
He sits down and laughs slightly, “Ya, probably should-shouldnt had have-have had that brownie.”
Tre stares at him, I think that his eyes have turned to hearts, like that one emoji. Billie ignores him. Tre has been practically in love with Billie since the beginning of sophomore year, Billie Joe has been practically in love with weed since the beginning of sophomore year.
I turned back to Ray, “So, what did I miss in math?”
“Not much, more talking of squares and how we’re all gonna be engineers when we get out of here.”
“Cool, do you guys wanna do anything for Halloween?” I ask, we’re only about a month into the school year, which starts in August, but I like to plan in advance.
Ray takes a bite of soup from his thermos and shrugs, “I mean, it's your birthday Frankie, you get to call the shots.”
I fiddle with my uniform, the wrong uniform today, I mean, I wear the same uniform everyday. Some days it's wrong, some days it's right. My friends don't know that sometimes, I feel like a guy. No one does, no one but me. I lean back onto my hands and pull my shoulder length brown hair into a slight ponytail. I wish I could cut it, I’ve never liked it long. “What if we go trick or treating this year? Costumes and everything.”
Tre cracks a smile, “You think your parents would let you?” He's been trying to get my parents to let me go trick or treating for years with no such luck, they think it's evil and all.
I shake my head, “Fuck no, but I’ll find a way.”
Billie Joe clears his throat, “What if.. What if you had an early party? And like, go to bed early ‘n stuff, n’ then sneak out and meet us.”
We all look at him, “Billie…” Ray says, “That’s got to be the smartest decision you've made in the history of you knowing what pot is.”
“So it’s settled then, I’ll sneak out.” We sit in silence before Tre speaks up.
“Did you hear we have two new kids?”
“It's a new school year, Tre, we always have new kids.” Ray sighs
Tre rolls his eyes, “No shit Sherlock–”
“Fuck you Watson.” Came Rays response
“I mean new this month, like, didn't come in in the beginning.”
“Huh,” Billie Joe said, “What are their names?”
“Dunno, McMillin, I think, but don’t quote me on that.”
“Ohhhh, yeahhh I think I have one in my Art class. Hey, have you guys seen Mike today?”
We all shook our heads. Mike, the fifth member of our group, was gone from lunch a lot, mostly skipping to go to the music room to practice bass, but sometimes, once in a blue moon, he would grace us with his presence.
The lunch bell rang and we all split up to go to our next class. I have no classes with my friend in the afternoon. But I do have Art, English and Music which are my favorite classes.
Yet the rest of my day is a blur of “Francine Pikes?” “Here” and resisting the urge to drink whatever chemical I’m handed in AP Chemistry. It seems like everything is at twice the speed. It's been like that since the end of sophomore summer and I think I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life like this. Like I’m just watching everything go by like a film. Nothing here is real. I’m not living, I’m not dead, I’m just here, I’m just existing in skin that feels itchy on the inside.
“Hey Frankie,” My moms voice wakes me up from my blankness. I’m sitting in my room, doing my homework. I look down at it, it's finished. Wow, I didn't think I was blacked out for that long. “Dinners ready, I made spaghetti.”
I tromp downstairs, but not before I change into pants and a t-shirt. My dad is sitting at the table and looks at my outfit disapprovingly. I look down and realise that I was in fact wearing a Sex Pistols t-shirt I had found at a thrift shop. A t-shirt that my parents had no clue that I had.
“Borrowed it from uhh, Jamia.” Jamia was my best friend from fourth grade to junior year. Up until her parents had caught her and her girlfriend, now she was halfway across the country at some boarding school in Colorado. Her girlfriend, Lindsey, was devastated but she went to a different school so I don't ever have the chance to talk to her.
“Throw it away when you're done with your dinner, Francine. I don't think that any group called ‘Sex Pistols’ are in the Lord's good books.”
The rest of the dinner, with the exception of saying grace, is silent. I help my mom clean up and went back up into my room. I open my computer and go to my email. I don’t have a phone, my parents won't let me get one until I turn 18, so me and the gang have to stick to emailing each other.
hey, u coming over 2morrow?
if my parents let me, idk if they will
I got dawn of the dead and fight club
Ill try my best, make sure theres chipss and popcorn
Will do
Shit, i hear my parents coming, i gtg, night
Night
I close my email lightning fast as my door opens.
“Hey, what are you doing?” my dad asks
“Just homework, I’m almost done.”
“Good, your mother and I are going out to help out Father Price at the church. I want the lights to be out by 9:30. Goodnight.”
“Oh, okay, night.” but the door was already shut.