English 154

Trevor Burnett

Anonymous High
True Tales of High School Drama

The driving impetus behind Anonymous High is the duality in humans, sharing the cast of characters in a medley of lights. I wish to explore our uncontrollable desire to prejudge and label, only to turn those first impressions back on the reader as the story develops. I want people, adults in particular, to realize that dope smokers can be intellectual thinkers; misfits can have underlying feelings, virtues, and values; breakups are more than high-school drama, and that growing up is harder than they remember. Im hoping this work will remind others of their youth: that those years weren't a waste of time due an immature understanding of the world. Puberty is a time for personal growth and development. Adults and authority figures are quick to forget their pasts when judging and belittling youth. This perpetuates the hardships of growing up in an everchanging world that is dominated and influenced by a retiring generation. I want people to feel bad for judging my characters. In this most recent edit, I attempted to seem all of the stories that take place in the Anonymous High universe together. I see the project as a success but time will tell whether or not the inexperienced reader can keep track of the characters, relationships, and point of view changes. I tried to make the alteration of perspective as easy as possible to follow, but I understand that its an uphill battle as various mind frames will be confusing. I plan on further editing this work in the near future.

Anonymous High
True Tales of High School Drama

Prelude An Insight to Pearce

It's 5:10, am; the clouds are painted by the rising sun, and the replica houses reflect the golden light. Pearce looks tired. He's clocking in a twenty-eight hour-long conscious streak. Memories and thoughts intermingle to create a duller form of reality than usual. He sits on his stoop, toking1 a joint. He inhales deeply, holds, and breathes out. Nothing. He tries again: rinse, wash, repeat. Better, but still missing it. It's one of those days, or nights times that you can't fall asleep; you're forced to be awake, not aware. Butterflies flutter by as a spring breeze fills the void left by winter. Trees begin to blossom as flowers emerge from the frozen soil. Plants, nature, come out of hibernation as the sun begins to wake and warm the world. The air is crisp to the touch and smell; the night's mystical activities are carried off by nature's very own style of recycling. Everyone on the block is resting or waking up to begin their hurried days: alarm clocks, breakfasts, carpools, and schoolor work for those who've moved on. Life's a misery waiting to happen for those who sleep. Pearce flicks the roach2 across the driveway. He opens the front door quietly, throws his shoes against the wall, and heads downstairs. Kings of Leon plays in the background, as they have for the past four hours. A charred bowl brushed with white ash sits in a pipe on Pearce's desk. He looks at it disdainfully. Tramadol, Codeine, Dilaudidonce lullabies, they now fail to serenade Pearce to sleep. He tries his hand at writing again, opening up the last word-processing document he used. The search for peace and love died with the kids sent to war in Vietnam stares Pearce in the face. It's true, he thinks; it wasn't an unfit dream: it was an unfit time. Nuclear war was a realistic fear; too much was going on for people to parade about ideals. Death was real, and in turn it killed the hope. The generation of youth, the would-be parents of tomorrow, had
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Smoking Butt of a joint 2

to give in to real life, as defined by society: jobs and business were pursued, while aspirations were put on the back burner. Good parents rekindled the flame in their children, playing The Beatles and Jefferson Airplane in their nurseries; other parents told their offspring to pursue economics and social studies: play it safe, you can't afford the risk. Pearce bats his eyes: It was a big thought. Unfortunate that the eloquent combination of words to describe it is forever lost in space. Thoughts: no one can take those away. Funny how you can explain something over and over again to no avail, then the concise sentence, made through the perfect combination of nouns, adjectives, verbs, and propositions lands in your head; pen and paper are rarely around to document them as tangible ideas. Romanticism at it's best. Our world is slowly dying: Humans, we're too smart for our own good. We will become our own demise. Everything we've built will slowly kill us: it's already begun; the timer ticking away. Still, so many people walk to and fro, unaware of it all, trapped in their busy lives. Pearce gets it. It keeps him going, but its what keeps him up at night as well. The intricacy of Yin and yang: a perfect balance due to a constant flux of change. Paradoxical in it's beauty. It takes an artistic mind to truly understand: its ability to absorb reality, to rework it without bias or subjectivity, only to present it to the world: newly packaged, a fresh take on an old idea, in hopes that someone else will realize it. Keep the ball rolling. The phone rings. It's the neighbour girl: the sixteen-year-old Pearce has been sleeping with for the pastwho knows? It's hard to keep track of time when you have nothing to track it by. Without school, theres no schedule. Without sleep, there is no anchor: days flow into each other without remorse. Before you know it, Tuesday's come and the pizza on your floor has gone bad. The ringing dies out, only to be replaced by buzzing seconds later: a text message, I have to see you. It's important. Peace knows it isn't. It's at times like these Pearce doesn't care to reply, never mind ask questions.

Thursday Wendys Dream

He's stroking my cheek with the backside of his hand. It feels so warm, so real. I'm

reflected in his deep blue eyes. Who is this man unknown, the mysterious knight of my life? He lifts me up with one arm, cradled around my back, and lowers me onto a bed of flowers. His long blonde hair tangles with my curls. His face leans in close, clouds passing through the back of his head. He rubs his nose against mine as our lips graze each other. Goosebumps run up and down my thighs, my arms, and the back of my neck. His hands melt into my skin like silk. He runs the tip of his tongue around my mouth before I grab it with mine and they fall into a dance of swirls. I've never been kissed like this before; I've never felt this way before. * Wendy's alarm goes off and MMMbop by Hanson starts playing on the radio. She reaches over to her bedside table and grabs her stylized pen and ledger. Cradling the stylus in her left hand, she rushes with her words: long blonde hair, we kissed, there were flowers; a bed of them, and clouds. I was in love. I'm in love. Wendy flops onto her bed, melting into it like butter on flapjacks. Entranced with this would-be hero of her dreams, she ponders about her astral self: chasing through stars and the moonlight, asking questions and taking action while waiting for answers. Wendys a go-getter, a girl who grabs life by the balls and the horns; she masturbates while she showers. As Wendy emerges from the bathroom, a bird outside watches, stumbles, and flies away. Inside, Wendy applies face-cream while staring at her reflected self. Breakfast. Buy pot, she thinks, I should probably call Daniel. Itd be nice to see him. Wendys eyes catch the mirror image of a photo taken of her and Daniel at the park last fall. I wonder why he hasnt called me yet? Wendy grabs her phone and begins texting. She types wher r u? and hits send. Wendy tiptoes across the floor and stares deeply into the photo of the couple. Mmm, you are my little boy, arent you? Im so happy we met: you treat me so kindly. A smile creeps across her face: one that would shiver a troll. She reaches into her sweatshirts uni-pocket, pulls out her phone, and has it ringing speed-dial-7 by the time it reaches her ear. Hey, Pearce? She begins, with a touch of demeanor in her voice.

Yeah? a voice coughs back, Who is this, Sandy? What a moron she thinks, Haha, no, its Wendy. Ive got dark auburn hair, curly? What the fuck is auburn? Im hanging up- No shit, umm I met you at that party, Im one of Chriss friends. Wendys spattered words tug at Pearces memory banks, Oh that whiney bitch with the short skirt, ha! Yea, I remember you, whats going on girl? Pearce asks, all too seriously, without a trace of shame, guilt, or remorse. This has got to be the most disgusting, self-depraved loser I have ever talked to. I cant believe Im doing this. Yea, haha, totally, she laughs, fakely, so like, I was wondering if I could buy some weed off of you? WHAT!? the voice screams back, buy some weed? Who the fuck do you think youre speaking to? Youve got the wrong number lady. The phone goes dead. Wendy stares at the receiver, half scared, half confused. Whatd I do wrong? I thought the guy said he sold dope. Later A Happy Fantasy Wendy sits with her boyfriend, Daniel, in his basement, eyeing the walls as the two smoke dope: Pink Floyd and Rage Against the Machine posters are tacked on the wall. I wonder how many of these bands Daniel actually likes, or listens to. I mean, theyre pretty cool bands. Not everyone can like them. Wendy watches Daniel methodically bit up3 the weed, placing a large nugget into a bowl4, resting smaller nuggets on top of it, only to shower the whole thing with flakes. Why would he take so much time to set up something he cant even see? Its all going to burn up anyways. Daniel passes Wendy the bong: she rests it on her lap, placing her lips over the mouthpiece. Nice grip, he shoots her a smile and a wink before letting out a laugh. Dumbass. Wendy rolls her eyes and takes a deep hit. By the time the smoke clears, Daniels leaning in close, lips puckered and ready to go. Wendy sandwiches her fingers between their lips, before pushing him back on the
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Drug lingo: tears apart Weed compartment on a bong 5

couch. She pounces on him, staring deeply into his eyes, So I tried to buy some dope off this guy today, and he totally blew me off. What a loser, eh? Really? Thats weird- I know, right? Wendy interjects, I mean, he hung-up halfway through the phone call. She rolled her eyes. Wait, whatd you say? Daniels eyes go wide. I asked him if I could by weed, and- Over the phone? Daniel interrupts, turning to face Wendy, dont tell me you asked to buy weed, explicitly, over the phone? Wait, did you call- Oh man, you called Pearce, didnt you!? Daniel starts laughing hysterically. Wendy feels like the weak prey. Haha, Wends, babyyou never ask to buy pot over the phone, no dealers ever gonna comply with thatFuck eh? What are the odds: Id see him this afternoon and hes telling me the same story- Shut up! Wendys voice is fierce, Fuck you, and fuck Pearce, and fuck Chris! Ive had it with you assholes. Theyre nothing but a shitty influence on you. When you grow up, call me Daniels mediocre at subduing confrontation, or girls for that matter. In fact, this is the first time Wendy has ever yelled at him, or yelled at him about Chris. Daniel mulls over the situation quietly and introspectively. Wendy grows impatient. All you ever do is think! This isnt normal Daniel. You need to figure your shit out. God, I am so out of here. Wendy storms out through the basement side door, stomping her feet with every step.

Friday Wendy Gives Advice

Wendy sits on Jaimes bed, talking in her room. Wendy likes Jaime: she was somebody who could be talked to, and talked into doing things. Youre a smart girl, but why do you hang out with that low-life Chris? Oh Jaime, she began, you could never imagine how rude Daniel was to me last night. Jaime was painting her toes a new shade of red. Hmm? she replies. Wendy doesnt care to think if Jaime is genuinely curious or simply appeasing her inquiry.

Where does he get off, talking to me like that, yknow? Like, Im your girlfriend: some guy treats me like shit, you back me up, right? Am I crazy to think this? Jaime placates Wendy, Yeah, men can be pretty rude. Perfect. Speaking of which, hows Chris, James? Wendy forgets that Jaime hates being called James, something she first learnt when they were eight. Hes pretty good, I havent seen him a lot these past few weeks. Ive had a lot on my mind. You cant be serious. Dont tell me you still think you feel for him that way, Wendys tone is confident, and severe. Well, I mean, I did what you said: I ignored him for as long as I could, but still, I cant change the way I feel. Damn it Jaime, youre not even trying. This guys a slouch, Im telling you; you deserve better. Seriously Jaime-get a grip on yourself. Wendy never liked Chris or the way Daniel acted when he was around him. The two have been friends since childhood. However, Wendys a girl who stakes her claim. For gods sake, Jaime, youre a virgin; its so special, do you really want to lose it to Chris? Jaime turns around and locks eyes with Wendy. This is the moment Wendys been waiting for: she has the strongest eyes of anyone she knows - well, aside from Daniel; but she could always look away and make him feel ten times worse. Wendys gaze penetrates Jaimes with vivid intensity. After a brief moment, Jaime looks away. As I was saying, James, you really do deserve someone who will care for you, and wont smoke all his problems away. Plus, I hear he has a small penis- WENDY! Jaime retorts, cheeks flushed red; she turns around, facing the wall. Im just saying, Wendy leans back into a medley of pillows. Its for your own good James. Best-friends know best, right? Anyways, are you going to that party tomorrow? Jaime swallows a lump before facing Wendy, Yes. And I hear Chris is going to be there, there was a brief hush in her voice, and if you dont mind, Id like you to leave us alone for a while. Jaime, you cant-

Wendy, Im asking you this as a favour. Anyways, youll have Daniel to attend to, wont you? Wendy had already forgotten about Daniel. What was that we were even fighting about again? God, hes such a great kisser. I really am lucky to have him. I cant wait to see him at the party tomorrow. At least were not in some fucked up situation like Chris and Jaime. God, I hope she makes the right decision.

Saturday Chris Parties

"That's what I like about you Dan-man, you know what's going on." I turn around and hand my buddy a beer, compliments of the hostess. Dan's got confetti all over his sweater: guy looks like a goofball. "I mean, I look at you and Wendy, and I think, 'Jeez, why can't things be that way with me and Jaime,' y'know?" Daniel's looking at me with those blanked out eyes. Things are getting pretty crazy here between the light-show, the bass booming, and the rank smell of beer and sweat in the air, I must say this is quite the house-party. Shirley's outdone herself. Daniel says something. I'm not much for reading lips but I think he asks, "and then what?" I guess he can't really hear me either. "What any normal dude would do," I say, swigging my beer, "put on my best clothes and start partying." I knock back the rest and grab two more brews from the table. Seriously Shirley, you outta' think better than to leave all these bottles out here: someone could take advantage of the situation. They've turned the living room into a dance party. It looks pretty inviting. I'm about to head over when Daniel opens his mouth again. "So, are you guys still together?" Great Dan: way to ask the million-dollar question. As if I'm not thinking about that my"Like, going out?" Really Dan? I gotta shoot you this stare? I give him the deadpan, and I think he gets the point: yes Dan, I realize what you meant when you asked if we we're still together. Whatever: guy's just trying to be a good friend, "Fucked if I know." Christ, look at those chicks dancing, shaking the genes their mommas gave 'em. You

can smell the pheromones in the air; this place is getting sticky. Wow, is that Shirley? Fuck, she's putting on a show tonight. Somehow Dan's busy watching me instead of the goods on the dance-floor, like he's expecting an answer or something. What the kid's got upstairs he lacks for in action. "I mean, a boy's got needs Dan. I'm the last one to deny my instincts when nature calls. Jaime's not answering her phone, I've got an itch that only a bitch can scratch, so I hook up with a chick here or therewhat's a boy to do?" Daniel is looking at me strange. "You gotta keep moving forward," there, that outta' suffice. It's true; it's not just the alcohol talking. Daniel's playing with his beer label again, they say it's a sign of sexual frustration. Though he's been known to spend a lot of time, what's it called, complentating? "What does Jaime think?" he asks. Great Dan, way to refocus the attention on the one thing I don't want to talk about. "Like I said, girl won't return my calls, my texts, for whattwo weeks now? Things were going perfect and then she goes on hiatus. I've got better things to do than chase a girl who wants to be ignored. She's my girlfriend, right? Isn't that the point of a relationship Dan, communication? Y'know, like, wellc'mon!" I pan my hand across the room, "Look at all this! All of it, Danjust waiting for the taking." How long has it been since I drank my beer? God it tastes good. Heh, waiting for the takingI like the sound of that. "I agree with you in principle, I just think you owe it to Jaime to say something," says Daniel, our ever-growing conscience, our voice of reason. Whatever man, this conversation's all dried up, time to get wet. "If I see her, I'll talk to her," my parting words as I drift into the crowd. I know Daniel doesn't like when I leave like this, so I turn around and placate him. "I've tried my best, Dan-man!" I throw my hands up in the air, letting him know everything's ok. He mutters something, but the ambient noise muffles it out. Anyways, I've got dancing to get to. The Girls Arrive

Wendy and Jaime knock back one last swig of vodka before stepping out of a cab. Ugh, thank god we made It, that cab driver was horrible. Plus, he smelled: so gross I could barf. Wendy hands the driver a couple of extra dollars, unaware of her meager contribution. A guilt-stricken Jaime tips generously to make up for Wendys lackluster share. They walk towards 1413 Wimbley Ave, throats burning fresh with liquor. Jaime stares at Wendy, whos wearing a scarlet dress, You know Wends, some people might think youre a little dressed up. Let them James. I look fabulous. Two teenagers smoking cigarettes outside do a head-to-toe checkout on the two girls. As the four meet face-to-face, the fatter of the two men exhales his smoke, directly into Jaimes face, asking, So, you ladies have some nice men coming to meet you later or what, haha. Wendy steps in close, close enough to smell to the cheese on the fat mans prepubescent moustache, No, actually, our boyfriends are waiting inside, and they play for the school Bengels. So, unless you want the lacrosse captain kicking your fat ass, I suggest you move aside. She grabs the kids cigarettes, pulls a drag, and blows it in his face. The skinnier of the two kids starts laughing and stands aside, making way for the girls. Wendy opens the door and follows Jaime in. Jeez, who invited the men? All they do is drool and stare; so primal. Wendy looks over at Jamie. Would it kill you to smile James? Anyways, youve got enough on your plate. Tonights your big night, the night you end things with that dead-beat Chris.Then we can find you a nice boy, someone proper, wholl respect you, and will buy you pretty things thatll make you happy. You really do deserve better, After all, you are my friend. Wendy spots Daniel across the room playing with a beer; hes standing next to Chris. The alcohol and hormones in her system entice each other as sexual desire floods her mind. Just look at me and Daniel; sure, he may be a little skinny, and sometimes he thinks too much, but still, that smile of his is so endearing, Why doesnt he spend so much time with that waste-life Chris? I can imagine such terrible things happening to himChris

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would drag Daniel down with him in a heart beat, Hell, I bet hed even place the blame on Daniel and get away scott-free, Daniels too nice to rat-out his best friend. Wendy watches Chris motion to Daniel with his arms. He then leaves, following a redheaded girl in a scantly clad skin-skirt-blouse trio. Typical: chasing after women. Are they really best friends? Well have to change that. Wendy grabs Daniel by the hips, rubbing the curve of his lower back. He bites back and her knees buckle at the surprise: the two dont usually display in public. Why are you staring at us Jaime, dont you have something better to do? Here, Ill make you feel awkward; then you can attend to your business. The couple starts making out. Uh, Daniel, have you seen Chris? Jaime pipes in, How rude. Wendy pulls back, and Daniel pans his palm across the dance floor. He went somewhere that way, he says, before staring back into Wendys eyes. Jaime takes the cue and the clue. Wendy watches as Jaime trots towards the dance-floor before turning back to face Daniel. I love you so much, she says. Me too babe, he replies, and the two continue their vivacious, albeit respectably short make-out session. Oh Daniel, youre such a great kisser. You really should grow your hair out, Id love to play with itmaybe hit the gym everyone now and then so you can cradle me in your big, strong arms. Thatd be magical: after a long night of passionate sex: you, holding me, in your arms; until I fall asleep. Uchh, I could DIE. Wendy takes a step back and looks deep into Daniels eyes. He fixes his stare, and the two become lost in each others pupils: images of love, family, and growing up flash before her eyes. She snaps back to reality and, realizing that Daniels gaze has remained steady, turns away, feeling beaten. Do you love me? Your eyes say yes but your lips say nothing: so quiet, always thinking. What goes on in that big brain of yours? Are you thinking about me, us, our future? Daniel cups Wendys shoulder with his hand. Instantly, she turns around. Placing an arm on his chest, she moves in, engulfing herself in his arms. She looks up as he looks down, and stands on her tippy-toes for a kiss. He complies, and she floats on down to Earth.

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She snuggles against him, tightly. You really should pay more attention to me: after all, I am a girl. All those boys out there wouldnt hesitate to throw themselves at me. Would you care? Would you stand up for me? Would you fight for your right to love me? Jaimes Point of View Wendy and I finally arrive at the party. I swear, that girl can never pick out what to wear. She looks great in everything she tries on, so what's the big deal? Should I wear the red dress to accentuate my breasts, or the yellow one to show off my butt? Seriously Wends, who cares? I mean, look at all these guysthey'd be gawking at you if you showed up in sweatpants. And why do you care? Daniel loves you, you love him, and-speak of the devil, there he is and-oh, you're already gone. I watch the couple make out for a minute before breaking into their vivacious tongue tasting session. "Hey Dan, have you seen Chris? I've been meaning to talk to him." Daniel pans his hand across the room, sucking on Wendy's face all-the-while. So not like him. "Yea, I think he went off that way." Wow Dan, thanks for the insightful words. Wendy's grabbing at your crotch, you can go back to face-hugging each other. * It takes less than a minute to point Chris out of a crowd; he's wearing his red Hawaiin shirt and a white tie combo: my hero. I'm about four feet away when the crowd parts wide enough for me to see some blonde bimbo grinding on my man. Is she serious? I yank her hair, slap her face, and pull my man close, "We need to talk." "Oh Jaime, so nice to see you." Shut it, moron. Moments later we're pressed against a doorframe. Chris is slouching again, sinking his hands in his pockets. Well if you're not going to say anything I'm going to put my hands on my hips and make you feel awkward...Are you really watching other girls walk by? "Look at me," I snap my fingers right next to his ear. "Ah fuck, what was that for?" Oh baby, like you don't know. Rub your ear all you want, the pain's inside and it's not going away. "Ignoring me," as if you don't know. His eyes go wide and he stops rubbing his ear.

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"Oh, like you did me?" His last word trails off as he watches this red-headed skank walk by. "I was busy Chris!" "Yea, busy for two weeks eh? You're telling me you were so busy for the past couple of weeks that you couldn't even drop me the faintest line of acknowledgement?" I can smell the booze on his breath. "It wasn't that long." Ugh, men. Always blowing every little thing out of proportion. "Thirteen days, not counting today. I saw you two weeks ago after Physics class. We grabbed some grub, Tuna Taco's I think, watched another stupid chick flick, Blue Rush or something terrible. I stayed over, you left the next day. I haven't reached you since." He's acting like an ass but it's cute how he can remember every little detail. Shit, this puts me a little off-center. "I-I had a lot on my mind," it's true babethat's what I'm here for"Yea, wellme too." Is he for real? His eyes are still really big. I think it's time. "I think I love you Chris." His face cringes, he looks like he's having a heart attack or somethingweird, I've never seen a man react like that. "Youdid you just say you think you love me? Are you fucking serious?" What? Are you angry? "Yes I said I think I love you. It took me a while to figure out why, or what it was, andand that's the best I could come up with." They never tell you how hard it is to tell the truth. "Well, isn't that romantic. She thinks she loves me." Well, I guess he's recuperated from the blow. What an ass, I lay my heart out on the line and he walks all over it. Typical. "Prove it," he says. "What?" "Prove you love me. He has that wild look in his eyes. I feel tears building up behind my own. "Chris, I told you before, I'm not ready." God, my voice is shaking. I must sound like such a coward. "You're an idiot. You think you love me, you say you're not readyJaime, this isn't how things work. I don't deal with this kind of crap. Are we doing this or no?" Why is he

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speaking to me like this!? "I'm a virgin Chris, it's special-" I can't believe I'm crying. "You say you love me Jaime; that's special." He leans in close; I swear he's peering into my soul. I look away, at anything, my feet, something to keep me safe. Tears rolls down my face, landing on my shoes. "They say it hurts." I can't believe I'm saying this. "That's why we've been practicing babe," he says. There's sincerity in his voice. He's so special. I look back at him. My face must be a mess. "Jaime, they're jealous, that's all. It'll feel good, I promise. Look, I'll take care of you." This is the real Chris speaking, past the alcohol. He grabs my arm, saying he knows a place. We walk around the house, up the stairs, and arrive at a door. It opens, and a kid walks out and he smells like pukeexplains the chunks on his shirt. We walk into the bathroom and Chris turns around and locks the door. Is this safe? I feel Chris' lips against my neck, working their way up to my jaw. His hand tugs at the lip of my shirt; his finger's feel cool as they touch my back. Butterflies start pulsing in my stomach; my body's shaking. He rubs me with his hands: it calms me down. My arms wrap around his back and pull him close. Our lips meet, his tongue rolls around mine before they start chasing each other like cat and mouse. He pushes me back against the sink and lifts me on top of it. I undo his belt and unzip his pants without thinking. The sink squeaks. It must be the pressure. I'm so fat. I can't do this. "No, not here," I whisper into his ear, "I hear these things crack under pressure." Chris sighs; I feel terrible. Something in the corner of the room catches his eye. He picks me up and places me in the bathtub, gently. The frigid porcelain runs Goosebumps up and down my body. I let out a whimper. The river of voices and thumping bass go silent as Chris drops his pants. He enters the bathtub, leaning over me cooly. He starts kissing me again, running his tongue along the base of my teeth. He raises my skirt, and grabs my hips with his hands. Oh my god, this is it. It hurts, it hurts so much, but I have to be strong. For Chris. "How does it feel, pretty good eh?" He sounds so calm, so professional. "I don't know, it kinda-" HURTS! My nails dig into Chris' abdomen, but he mutters something about "feeling so good," I don't think he hears me.

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I can feel the tip of his erection driving against the friction. It's so intense, he's pushing deeper and deeper, what's going on? "Chris, Chris" I'm vying for attention between thrusts but he doesn't hear me, "it doesn't feel good. It's starting to-Ow-hurt!" "Just relax." Easy for you to say, no one's shoving a dildo up your ass. He raises my shirt and starts licking my breast, spiralling towards my nipple. Quit distracting me. "No, Chris, it's not gonna work, it's-" he grabs my arms tightly. "Calm down, just try to have fun." Have fun? At a time like this? Are you serious? "It doesn't fit, Chris. It hurts, you're hurting me! I can feel tears running down my cheeks, I'm crying again. "Just loosen up." "Chris-" I beg. "Jaime-" He stifles. "Chris!" I whimper. "Jaime!" "Oh Christ, CHRIS!" I cry as he drives his shaft into my vagina. "OH JAIME," he bellows. The pain's too much. All the noises from the party flood in and my eyes roll back and I hit my head against something hard. Everything goes black, but I wake up moments later. Chris is frantic. What's wrong? "Jaime, Jaime! Oh thank God, Jaime, what happened?" There are tears in his eyes. "II-" "Jaime, I'm-I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I didn't see you crying. I-" I feel a warm wetness between my legs. "Could you grab me some toilet paper, please?" "Sure, yea, anything," he gets up and grabs me a roll. "Can you-could you just turn around for a second?" He does, and I wipe myself dry. I look down and the paper-stained red. I searh for a spot to throw it out, but Chris turns around and notices the blood. "Jesus Christ, Jaime! Are you okay? I swear I didn't know-"

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"It's fine, Chris. Let's, let's just move on okay?" He shakes his head. "No Jaime, let's not just move onWhat happened back there? I mean-" I have to calm him down, he's freaking me out. "Do you love me, Chris?" "Of course I love you Jaime. I swear, I never meant to hurt you; past, present, or future," tears are rolling down his cheeks, "Any time it hurts, or I hurt you, you tell me right away and I swear to God Jaime, I will stop. I will never hurt you intentionally. I thought we we're having fun and-" Shh, it's okay. "Chris, Chris, it's fine, I understand. You didn't mean to, I get it. Just" Finally, he seems to relax. "Yeah?" "Next time we do that, we take it slow, okay? We do it at my placewe just, talk more, prepare more. I mean, we didn't even use a condom Chris." "In all fairness, I didn't come or anything-" "That's not the point, it's still stupid. Look, I want to do it again but a lot can go wrong...Tonight is a good example of that and...I don't know...I...I meant what i said before Chris, I do love you..." By now Chris has pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and puts it in his mouth. He smiles at me, playing with my hair. "I love you too babe. I really do. And I promise, it's only gonna get better from here. The relationship, not just the sex," he lights his cigarette, "God, I'm so glad we're back together." What? "...Back together? Chris, what's going on?" Chris Thinks Freudian slip and irony: two words we learnt today in English class. I can't remember which, but one definitely explains this situation.

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Sunday Weekend Tutorials, Sex, and Grapefruit

Wendy wakes up early as her recent dream of blonde haired men dissolves; the transitional world of subconscious obscurity consumes yet another nightly creation. After a quick shower, she rubs herself dry and prepares breakfast. She grabs a grapefruit from the fridge, slices it in half, and surgically loosens the wedges of fruit. She sits with a spoon, expunging the juice cubes from their peely confines; devouring the pink delicacy with an air of grace mixed with nonchalance. She crosses her legs and her bunny rabbit slippers follow. Lamour she think. The phone rings. Wendy? Oh my god! I have to speak to you. Why havent you called me back? Wendy had yet to check her phone for missed calls or messages. What do you mean? I just got up. Im having breakfast James, is this- This is really important Wendy! I need to see you. Its about last night- Did Chris- Look! I just really need to see you, ok? Can you meet me at my place? Yea I-I guess. Wendy hangs up the phone. God, what a drama queenbut I swear, if Chris touched her Soon Female Empowerment Wendy arrives at Jaimes in a mild sweat: something she hates doing but makes exception for from time to time. She opens the door without ringing the bell and scampers up the steps. Jaimes door hung open with a crack; she pushes it aside. Inside, Jaime sits on her bed surrounded by a pile of facial tissues, wet with tears. Christ, this girls been crying, Jaime, what-what happened? I dont know! Jaime bellows, He grabbed me. I grabbed him, she begins, between sobs, We had sex. I hated it. It hurt. I hit my head. He saidhe said he cheated on me!! Jesus Christ I knew fucking-Chris would do something like this. Hehe said he loved meII told him I loved him and

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Jaime! Look at me. Jaime stops crying and stares straight into Wendys eyes. Grow a pair. Look. I told you this guy was a douche-bag. Im not saying you got what you deserved, butits like going downtown dressed as a slut-what are you gonna expect: Men to just bow their heads and open doors for you? Guys dont do things like that, at least, not in todays age. Theyre so caught up chasing their dicks that they forget that theyre not just plugging it into another hole. Theres another human on the other side, one who probably has more feelings than them. She exhaled. Jaime sits dumbfounded by Wendys soliloquy. You should teach womens studies, is all she could muster. Later Appropriation It's one of those regular days. The sky is blue and the sun is nestled behind a cloud: nothing unusual for this Canadian small town. The inhabitants take to their daily chores, walking to and fro, working hard and seeking adventure: some innocent, some not so. The universe goes on as planned. A cool wind brushes against Wendys face, sending the small hairs on her skin into a sensation-frenzy, mitigating the summers heat. Shes walking towards the school entrance, but her mind isnt on her studies. God, that Chris is such an animal. All these men are pigs. All except my Daniel, heAnd then it hit her: He- he doesnt call me that oftenWendy cycles through her latest memories of Daniel. First he made fun of me, calling me stupid for the way I acted with that low-life drug-dealer, and then he took advantage of me when I was drunk at that party. He didnt even apologize for the way hes been acting: like a total ass! Its that asshole Chris, such a bad influence: taking everyone to the park tomorrow to get high on shrooms5. UGH. He is SO ANNOYING. She better not go back to him: unless shes really that stupid. And Daniel, he better shape up. Why cant he be more like that blonde haired knight in my dreams. She walks through the halls of her school; teenagers are unning amuck, clearing out their lockers, dumping academic waste on the floor. I swear: its time he takes this relationship seriously. Its not all about fun and games; there are emotions at stake! And
5

Psychedelic mushrooms 18

he has to realize that he can hurt, and be hurt. Wendy enters the Sunday tutorial and sits in her usual spot. Daniel walks in, moments later. They've been going out for a short time, but it doesn't matter; they have the connection, and Daniel feels it day in and day out. The sensation's been there since before they slept together. He approaches her, admiring her dark hair as per usual. She turns to face him, and he loses himself as her green eyes transfix his own. Wendy begins her silent treatment before Daniel sits down. Hes so stupid. Wendy watches as he takes down notes, having missed the teachers proclamation that said information wont be on the test. Daniel's learnt better than to confront women head on, so he reclines in his chair and lets out a sigh, hoping to catch Wendys attention. It works. Before Daniel can muster his smile, Wendy turns around and speaks. I dreamt I cheated on you last night, she says without the slightest hint of emotion. She laughs internally as Daniel turns to face her with a puzzled look. Hes taken aback, tracking his brain for words, but the situation has left him dumbstruck Time to tug the heart strings, II didnt mean to, she says, faking empathy, it just happened so fast. There was nothing I could do." She forces her gaze into the deep end of Daniels mind. His emotions are brainwashed: he feels her pain. He tries his hand at consolation, something he has little practice with. Its fine, he says, it was just a dream. Fine? Is he serious? Does he not understand the severity of the subconscious mind at work? No, she retorts. Daniel shuts up. A few students stare at the silent duo, waiting to see what happens next. Daniel begins tapping his pen against the table, one of Wendy's pet peeves, hoping it will provoke a reaction. Aaaagh!!! He knows this is my pet peeve! What an ASS. Through his peripheral vision, he eyes her head turning towards his. He counteracts with a smile, but her striking glance, one that would send a shiver down the Ice Queens back, paralyses him. Her eyes don't look back, at least, not like they used to. The essence, the spirit of her gaze is gone.

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He searches for the sense that makes his heart melt. He looks past her flowing irises, deep into her pupils. He finds nothing. His teeth hide behind clenched lips. He looks back, confused, and works his face into a wry smile. The class bell rings. Wendy stands up and faces the sitting Daniel. I didn't mean to, you have to believe me. It wasn't a matter of choice. She tosses her hair. He came into my dreams." She picks up her notebook and pens, and walks out of class. Now, Ill just go to the fountain like we usually do, hell meet me, well talk things over, and everything will go back to normal. Oh my god, the makeup sex is going to be SO good. Daniel gets up, thinks twice, and walks out of class slowly. He dodges Wendy by heading to the field rather than the fountain, their usual meeting spot. He sits down and thumbs through his notebook, trying to distract his racing mind. Gerry, Daniel's school associate, sits down next to him and lights a joint. Daniel observes as Gerry inhales tightly, watching embers consume the paper. The smell of burnt dope wafts in the air, before floating away with the breeze. Gerry hands the joint to Daniel, who reluctantly accepts. "It's about damn time," Gerry says. Daniel stares forward, holding a deep hit. As he exhales, he explains, "I smoke all the time Gerry, just usually outside of school. "That explains it," Gerry says, "So did you finish that psych paper?" Daniel nods approvingly as he hands the spliff back to Gerry. The two sit quietly, introspectively. "You ever have a girlfriend Ger?" "Nah man, chicks are nutty." "I know what you mean." "Oh yea? Have at it." "You see: I've been seeing this girl Wendy, right? Things are going good, then all of a sudden." Daniel motions vaguely in the air with his hand. Gerry coughs up a toke. "What? Circles?She circles around you?" Daniel stares back at Gerry as though he's a moro. Daniel continues, She just up and leaves man. She says she dreamt she cheated on me."

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"That shit's fucked up," interrupts Gerry. "I know, right?" Daniel throws his arms in the air, "On top of that, she stays silent and walks out at the end of class, apologizing but likewhat does that mean? Where does it leave me, y'know?" Gerry sits for a minute, trying to think of a good answer, "Leaves you here with me, man."

Monday A Rollercoaster of Drugs and Emotions

Diary, I hate all my fucking friends. Theyre all such assholes. Daniel never met me at the fountain. We meet there every day after class. Why, of all days, does he choose yesterday to not show up? I mean, do you not care about our relationship? Are you the most self-centered twat at our school? Oh wait, maybe that medal should go to Jaime. Hey bitch, thanks for calling me up in the early morning to vent about your problems. Remember when I ran over? Yea, that ruined my whole day. Thanks. Oh, and double thanks for helping me out when I had my problems. Oh thats right, you DIDNT. You decided to go hang out with CHRIS, the kid who practically RAPED YOU. Thanks for helping me out girl, way to stick together. Thanks a lot. Wendy reclines in her chair and throws her pen against the wall. It chips away the pink paint, leaving a small dent with a blue mark in the center. Wendy opens her dream journal and backtracks a couple of days. June 9, 1997 Long blonde hair, we kissed, there were flowers; a bed of them, and clouds. I was in love. I'm in love. Wendy caresses the book, running her index finger up and down the page. What

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happened to you, love, where did you go? You used to be so respected, envied by all those around you. But now, youve turned sour. Where have you gone? Why do you hide so valiantly when some of us seek you out, so strongly? She grabs her phone. No new messages. She sifts through her inbox, re-reading her last message from Jaime, watching the boys at the park, lemme know if you wanna do sumtin. I bet those assholes went to the amusement park on drugs. I know I dont do shrooms and all but theres no reason I cant be a sitter with Jaime. I look out for her all the time, why is she the one watching all these guys alone? And what if something bad happened? Jaime would be the first to freak. Oh my god, imagine if Chris went berserk again. Hed be on drugs and out of control. Daniel would stop him. Would he? Maybe hed help him. I cant believe I let her put herself in this kind of danger. Elsewhere The Psychedelic Kings The sky's a purple shade of blue; it doesn't make sense, but that's the only way I can explain it. It's kind of like a dreama really vivid dream where everything seems real, but picking out minute details expose the mirage. But this is real, at least an altered version of what's real. "Oh man, I feel the come-up. These things are strong." Chris is speaking; my right ear absorbs the sound waves. It keeps me in check, stabilized; I'm wearing cement shoes to keep me from walking in the clouds. The trees sway back and forth, dancing. Daniel starts chuckling. "Check out the clowns, man," he points, laughing all the while. I look, and they stare back with devil eyes. They peer into my soul, smiling, exposing their ferocious teeth. Their red lips, they're growing, inflating. No, this isn't happening. Breathe deep. Remember. "Ridiculous man, RIDICULOUS!" Chris' shouting reverberates in my ear: Ree, dih, queue, less. "Shh, you guy's are acting like morons. Shut up," Jaime interjects. Her icy breath sends Goosebumps down my arms; they feel cold. Now they're hot. Now they're cold again. I look at Jaime. Her head is glowingglowing a faint pale of blue. It's like an aura.

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We've each eaten an eighth6 of shrooms. Jaime's our anchor, our sitterwe're babies without parents experiencing a new world; except our parents are reality, society. Deviance has separated us, kicked us out of our loving home. Chris is right: these shrooms are really intense. Why'd we go to an amusement park? We shouldn't have come here. "Hey Ger" My head turns without me thinking. I'm staring Daniel straight in the face. Behind him people merge as they walk into each other, only to emerge as individuals once they pass through. "You okay?" he continues. "Yea man, everything's fine. Justget-getting that stomach thing, y'know?" I lie. I'm not fine. I'm tripping balls. Why are we in public? It's so obvious we're high. Look at everyone staring at us: smiling, laughing. They know I tell you, the buildings know; they whisper into my ears as they lean over: their foundations are made of plastic. They knowsomeone puts their hand on my back. "Chill out buddy, we're cool." Yea Chris, you're cool, Dan's cool. I'm freaking out, man. "Jaime's keeping us in check, she'll let us know if something happens," Chris smiles. The kid's the epitome of lax. You can smell it. My palms are so sweaty they're melting. They're feeling cold again. This isn't fun. I want to go home. "Let's go to the fun house, it'll be dark and quiet. I bet you it'll be nuts." Daniel, why? What are you thinking? You're the rational one. Why would we go into a black mansion with ghouls and werewolves? That's a terrible idea. "That's an amazing idea," seconds Chris, shouting. He takes off running. Traces of his past self fade with every step he takes. This is the fourth dimension. The mansion's door is sandwiched between two columns and a frieze; the Corinthian flowers bloom while armies murder each other up above. The Carneys legs deflate, the miracle of striped pants, lowering him from sky-high to eye level. He leans over, bending his knees forward. His cape flutters in the wind and I'm encased in a sea of red. "Tickets?" licks his tongue as it slithers out, accentuating the "s". He reaches out with a bony hand, eager to take our souls. His veins squiggle and wriggle under his skin, a
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3.5 grams, a very potent dose 23

changing blend of purples and yellows. Jaime places four tickets in his hand, her blue hand transcending the space-time continuum. Thank god she's here. She's our angel. We're inside. Maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea. I can't see anything in the darkness, except shadows. Shadowsturning into monsters, waiting to eat me. I need to get out. "Jaime, I need to go," I cry. "No straying from the group," she says. The words echo with voicesChris' and Daniel's, unknown voices too. No one understands, they'll eat me alive. I'm not as strong. "You don't understand, I have to get out of here," I turn around and seventeen arms grab at my back, throwing me into a seat and locking me in. Gears turn, mechanical noises clink and hum. We start moving forward. I think I pee a little. Chris and Jaime are behind Dan and me; they're holding hands but I can hear them making out. Dan and I are in the front row. We're in a train, heading forwards at five kilometres an hour. I've never been this scared in my entire life. There's no roof, no wind either: just some force that keeps pulling us forward. "Oh Ger, I've been meaning to tell you-" "AHHHH!" I scream, as a cowboy from the 19th century jumps out from the wall and points his gun straight at my head. "Well lookey 'ere, seems like we found ourselves a new plaything, ain't we Ralph?" Ralph? Who's Ralph? He's staring at me with empty eyes. Literally, he's got no eyeballs. "Calm yerself, boy," says a voice to my left. I turn; Daniel's gone. Instead, a fat man with a fatter moustache sits, smiling with a gun lying on his lap. "We gonna have fun wit' this one, ain't we?" he says, scratching the red bandana around his neck. "Suree reckon that. Seems like you found yerself on a train headed to Georgia! Normally, I do believe this would be a pleasant ride, cept me and Mr. Nader here are plannin' on robbin' this 'ere train. What's yer name, boy?" He tips his brown hat forward, tapping his boots against the floor. The spurs clink. "Gerald," I squeak, coughing to hide my shame. "Gerald eh? How bout's we call you Gerry then. Or Ger if you prefer it."

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"Gerry's fine." "Well Gerry, regarding the inconvenience of your ride I do believe I owe you an apology, and I assure you, I am terribly grieved and sorry that such things had to end in such ways and such. Where're you heading from?" He pokes him gun into my cheek. "II" "Well spit it out boy!" Ralph says, shoving his six-shooter into my side. I feel it in my spleen. "I'm originally from South Dakota. My parents moved here when I was six," I say without a moment's hesitation. It's a lie, but it comes out smooth. "You're a liar!" The guy in the brown hand cocks his rifle and places it right between my eyes. My soul parts from my body. My friends' faces are reflected along the barrel, morphed by the cylindrical surface like the stretchy mirror in the funhouse. The voids in his face stare deep. "Now, I'mma ask you one more time, all pretty like," he licks his lips after each word, "Where - are - you - from?" "I'm from-" "The womb!" he screams, laughing and shooting ten shots into the air. Ten shots? How's that"And how are these nice folk around you?" I look around. Chris, Jaime, and Daniel stare forward. It's like they're not even therewell, there physically, but gone mentally. "They're-" "Dead!" screams out Ralph. He laughs and shoots each of them in the head. They fall, fading dead into the darkness. I feel the warm sensation of tears rolling down my cheeks. My mouth becomes salty. Who are these bandits and what do they want? "One last thing," the man in the brown hat continues. He rolls open the chamber of his gun, the butt of the last golden bullet shining brightly. He snaps it close and gives it a spin. Again, he cocks the trigger and lines up the barrel with my pupil. My life stares back at my right eye. My left eye's focused on his snarling face. "Watch out!" He says, disappearing as white light floods my vision. I'm blind while a gust of wind blows by, tugging at my hair and clothes. Fairies, pixies, birds, and butterflies

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fly backno, they're pulled back like a vacuum. I propel forward, going a million miles a minute; the skin tears off my flesh; my muscle tissue rips apart strand by strand; my bones break and turn to dust, weathered by the wind. The car pulls to a stop. Getting up, I limp about twelve steps to the fence before puking my brains out. A half-eaten hotdog stares back, covered in blue bile. Daniel and Chris laugh madly behind me. I feel low, really fucking low, until an angel places her hand on my shoulder, absorbing my anxiety. I turn around, and it looks like Jaime, except the blue aura that surrounded her head now encompasses her entire body. Her eyes look like that of a cat. "It's fine," she says, and I believe her.

Tuesday Wendy Catches Chris Cheating

Wendy finishes her exam before anyone else. She sits in the schools common room waiting for other to join, pretending to be busy by flipping through the latest issue of People magazine. Slowly but surely, the crowd gathers and begins discussing. Fuck. Chris rubs his head, My brain is drained. Heh, maybe taking shrooms yesterday wasnt the greatest idea. Wendy perks up at what she gauges to be a clear admittance of stupidity. I disagree, begins Daniel, I think they saved essay, Compare symbiotic relationships between omnivorous species? Dude, I wrote fifteen thousand words about Mr. and Mrs. Pacman. Everyone laughs-except Wendy. I donno, Ger mumbles, plagued with the mushy hangover, I mean, that was quite the wild ride. The drugs or the fun house? says Daniel. Chris laughs and jokes, Yea, what was it he kept saying Dan? Cowboys! Theyve got no eyeballs! Help me! Help me! Chris and Daniel erupt into a fit of laugher. Ger hangs his head low; Jaime leans in. Its ok Ger. Jaime tries her hand as consolation, meeting her eyes with his. Its not like you ruined the ride or anything. You even managed to hold in your stomach until after we were outside. She smiles.

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Thanks Jamie. Its ok, Ger mumbles, clearly not feeling the warmth of Jaimes love. Chris looks down and eyes Jaimes pink underwear, exposed by the empty arch of her jeans around her waist. Chris dips his fingers into the crevice and loops his indexr around the waistband. He pulls back and lets go. Snap. Chris! Jaime squeaks. She looks at him with a lowered gaze. He smiles and she plops into his lap. Daniel stops watching the happy couple and shifts his gaze to Wendy, sitting uncomfortably afar in a chair. She hides her eyes behind her glasses and stares at pictures, keeping her ears open all the while. Eavesdropping quickly loses its appeal. Wendy stands up and makes a grand exit that goes by vastly unnoticed. As she walks to the bathroom, she peers through a hallway window and catches a glimpse of Chris walking down the opposite path. He enters the second to last door on his left: the exam classroom. Hmm? She trails towards him in hot pursuit of adventure. And gossip. Wendy grips the windowsill and pulls herself up slowly. Chris is shuffling through papers on the teachers desk. He grabs one and begins erasing parts and marking down new information. He stops and looks around quickly. Wendy ducks as fast as she can. She raises her head and spots Chris three feet from the classroom door. Wendy props herself up just as Chris exits. Oh Wendy, fancy meeting you here. Yeah, well, Wendy looks around nervously, I have to go. She turns around and paces towards the south exit. Shes determined to get home without missing a step. One thought drives her: Ive got you asshole. Later Dan and Chris Are Buds "This is terrible, I don't know what to do." Chris' got that somber look in his eyes; the kind he gets when he knows he's done wrong. His eyes scream guilty, but his lips remain firmly sealed. I know he won't grasp what his retinas already know, having processed the events upside down, now relaying the information back to his brain to reprocess and wow I am high. I fidget with the objects in my pocket: a broken paperclip and an elastic.

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Chris leans back on the sofa, exhaling deeply. The stale smell of pizza is masked by smoke as he passes me the joint; were smoking Kush7 these days, nothing less. I remember what it was like when all we used to smoke was the shwag8 weed; one inhale later and the thought dissipates with the smoke. It seems like we do this all the time. We used to smoke once a month, then it became something we'd do on pedagogical days. I remember when it used to burn my throat; I hated the taste and the pasties it left in my mouth. All of it's second nature now; it didn't take long for smoking to become a weekly affair. It's not like we're running away from anything or using it as an escapeyou gotta think of it like a filter. The bud helps us get by the days; it takes the edge off; lets us tune out what's wrong with the world. "What are you gonna do?" I shift my eyes from his Jimi Hendrix poster: the thing hangs on the wall like a shrine. I swear it glows sometimes. He turns around to see what I'm looking at and the couch let's out a wheeze. His interest fades but the desire to smoke brings him back to reality. "I don't know man. I mean, I should tell her, right?" He reaches for the joint. I hand it to him. He's messed up, now and in general. It's a weird time in our lives: important choices seem just around the corner. I think we're all a little more scared than we care to admit. "Well yea but, it's going to ruin everything if you don't." Ruin everything: that's how they describe smoking dope. They call it the gateway drug; they make it seem like the devil in disguise. Meanwhile, other kids are filling their livers with alcohol or stuffing their noses with oxycontin, all at the expense of their parent's liquor or medicine cabinets. They're underage so it's illegal too, but you can only point your fingers in so many directions. I can feel Chris vying for my attention. "Even if I don't tell her it's bound to come upeventually. It's bad man, I really messed up this time." He butts out the joint: just look at that ashtray, the thing is littered with roaches. Hell, there's enough to roll another king-size. Now that would get us baked. Chris pulls out his papers.
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A strong strain of marijuana Low quality weed 28

"You've got any dope?" His big puppy dog eyes meet mine but I know he's stashing weed. No wonder Jaime loves him. "Yea, gimme a sec." I reach into my pocket and pull out a tin. I toss it across the table and it slides right up to him. The lights flicker a bit. I look at them, those shining glowing orbs, before my mind flows elsewhere. My mouth's drying up but my tongue speaks for itself. "I'm sure you'll get away with it, you've done it before." "This is different man. She gave me one last chance. And look, I blew it." His fingers twitch and the weed falls out of the joint; his muscles tense. He's frustrated. "I think you're being a little hard on yourself." Support is the least I can do, but he's right: once is a mistake, twice is a habit, and with a habit comes a label. There are crumbs on the couch, and the stale smell of pizza wafts back into the air. This whole series of events is anything but surprising. "A little hard on myself? Look at the facts man, I've done the math and it adds up bad. Big, bad, and messy." Chris reclines and the couch absorbs him. A few crackers make their way to the edge of the cushions before falling to the depths below: lemmings marching off a cliff. "Sowhat are you going to do?" I breathe deep. I really don't care for this conversation. I know where it's heading. Nothing's going to be resolved without action, and action needs to be taken with contemplation-contemplation only Chris can successfully achieve on his own, in a better mind frame than now. "Like I said, I'm just going to have to tell her. Maybe I'll sugar coat it." "Isn't she a diabetic?" They say laughter's the best medicine. "You know what I mean dick, quit being an idiot." He's in a pretty bad mood. Maybe weed isn't the answer, not right now. He's got bigger things on his mind, but still; watching that ember burn, it seems like he's pushing himself to get higher and higher. He should be focusing on his life. "Just trying to lighten the mood." I crack a smile, hoping it's contagious. "That's stupid. We're not talking about a movie set; the mood doesn't need lighting, it needs fixing." The bait's been cast but he's not biting. "Calm down man, I'm just trying to help." The situation is starting to get

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uncomfortable. He's got that fire in his eyes. Whatever comes out next, don't take it personally. "Yeah yeah, I knowalways trying to help, always looking out for everybody. You're the voice of reason, our missing conscience; only your advice comes around after the actions have taken place. It's always too late." Chris snorts. I swear the kid's an animal sometimes: he's stubborn; he lets his emotions get the best of him. I want to look him in the eyes and tell him everything thats wrong with him: you're not a goddamn Neanderthal; you can process your emotions. Breathe deep. "Look man, I try to warn you guys pre-up all the time. You can't blame me if you don't head the advice. It's not my fault you get what's coming to you." Shit. That last part slipped. The lights flicker again. "What'd you say?" Chris plants his feet; I can hear them shift. He's in fight or flight mode, and I know he's not the kind to spread his wings. "Hey, don't take it the wrong way. Tensions are high, we-" "There you go again, giving the warning after the show. Why don't you just shut your fucking mouth and keep your thoughts to yourself." Chris is staring at me like an enemy. I'm the only one left to hear him out. The kid's got some things to work out; it's not my problem. He wants to isolate himself from the world? Fine, fuck it. "I'm outta here man, good luck with your shit." I pick up to leave. He says something as I walk past him, but I don't care. The stale smell of pizza's still stuck in my nose, the lights keep flicking on and off. I'm out of this drug-hole. I need some fresh air.

Wednesday Prom Night

Wendy wakes up on Wednesday: prom night: the greatest night of her life. Its so, Shakespearian: all of us, players, heading to the grand stage. Two sets of lovers, wrapped in drama, and mystery. Who knows how it will all go down? Shall we all find love? Will some of us go home broken hearted? Will tonight be the night that Daniel proposes to me? Only fate shall decide. She masturbates twice.

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* Wendy stands by the punch bowl, eyeing the crowd. Look at all these derelicts. Wendys standing tall and proud, her exceptional figure embellished by her metalliclavender dress that ordained her body with royal silkiness. She patiently awaits the arrival of her friends, fingering her drink to pass the time. Eight teenagers and two staff have flirted with Wendy by the time Jaime arrives. Oh thank god youre here. This place is so clich. Nice dress, whered you get it? Wends, we went shopping for these dresses together three months ago. We bought them at Betsey Johnsons, remember? Oh, right, how silly of me to forget. Really James, I hope you didnt spend as much as I did on that thing. Yellow? Seriously? So, how are things? Oh theyre great Wends! Wendys taken aback by Jaimes peppiness. Chris and I talked about the whole thing after you came over that day and..oh my god, I didnt even tell you: we had sex again! And this time it was so much better! I mean, Im sure itll still be a while until Im at the level you and Daniel are at but- Jaime, youre rambling, interrupts an envious Wendy. I havent seen Daniel for days: no thanks to you. Im sorry, Im sorryjust-well, and you know how I get when Im excited. Plus Ive been drinking a little, teehee Jaime says with a smile, Im hoping that tonight will be something special. Jaimes eyes light up as she squeezes the cup in her hands, bobbing up and down uncontrollably. Pathetic. Thats great, Jamie. Im really happy for the two of you. Im sure you two will have a great summer together. The words sliver between Wendys lips like hot oil racing down icy slopes: ready to devour anything that stands in its path. Thanks Wends, I really couldnt have done it without you. Thank you so much for that girl talk. I dont remember exactly what you said, but it put things into perspective. Youre right: I deserve what I want. And I want Chris. He told me that his mom said we could stay at their country house for a month this summeronce get gets back his marks. Oh Jaime, simple simple Jaime.

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Oh Jaime, thatd be great, she begins, her face torn wide with a sneer stretching from ear to ear, but she drops her smile into a frown, watching Jaimes lips mirror her own. What? pipes the girl in the yellow dress. Wendy waits a dramatic pause, takes a step back, and raises an arm to her forehead. Jaime, I-I dont know how to tell you, yes, youre loving it, but ChrisI Jaimes eyes are practically bulging out of her head. -I think he cheated on his final! Jaime steps back uncontrollably, and, losing balance, grabs onto the table for support. Wendy jumps in and grabs her arm. Now now Jaime, Im sure everything will be ok. Jaime works to regain her composure. Wendy can see the tears In her eyes. Jaime looks up and, like a sad puppy whos lost its favourite toy, asks, Diddid anybody see him? No Jaime, I think I was the only one. But its Chris. Im sure hes already told half the school about it. Wendy, Jaime cuts in, you have to promise me you wont tell anybody; if not for Chris, then for me. Jaime, look at yourself- Promise me Wendy, promise me. Jaime stares forward with empty eyes, void of everything but sadness. I dont know if I can do that James. Wendy turns around and walks away. Outside The Kings Reign Free Chris, Daniel, and Gerry are standing outside their school, Anonymous High, smoking a joint on Prom Night. Chris hands Daniel the joint and, concealing his true emotions, states, "Dude, I fucking hate prom. It's likethe most blown out of proportion celebration of the year. I mean, look at this!" Chris shows off his attire, unbuttoning his white tuxedo to expose his matching suspenders while pointing his white shoes to the sky. He flicks his purple corsage, compelling Gerry's Attention Deficit Disorder, and continues, "This getup must've set my

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mum back, two grand. She should've just given me the cash." Chris says, subsiding the guilt he associates with his mother's hard working habits. The dame works like a dog, then goes and blows this kind of load on clothes and a limo he thinks. Daniel perceives most of this, as he and Chris have been close friends years. The sativa9 dissuades Gerry's racing mind, instigating insecurities associated with bogarting10 joints. He quickly passes it back and, fearing inadequacy, tries to cement his acceptance in the group by taking a shot at Chris, "Yea man, but then you'd probably spend it on booze and bullets" Chris shoots Gerry a quizzical look, poor kid, I swear he's smoked himself stupid. Ger pauses, composing the fleeting thoughts from his drug-induced mind. "I-I mean bud, y'know?" Chris finds it funny, but doesn't let up on his alpha male status, "Yea well, at least I'd get something out of those things. I gotta return this thing tomorrow. Can't stain it either." Daniel hears the opening he's been waiting for all night. "On that note Chris, why would you get a white tux?" Daniels got a knack of putting Chris in his place with little to no effort. Chris is used to Daniel's chastisement, impressed by his quick wit if nothing else. He holds onto his pride though, answering, "Ladies, man. Ladies." He tokes the joint down to the filter and flicks it into the air with a facility that can only be described as "cool". The boys get into the typical rituals of exchanging flasks: a Dutch-rudder of alcohol tasting. Daniel's rising ego is calmed by his difficulty drinking Chris' Jack Daniels. Chris knocks back a powerful swig of Vodka, and finds curious surprise in Gerry's choice of Gin. Gerry happily swigs the alternate boozes, finding solace in the return of his Bombay Sapphire. Riding the mlange of highs, the three boys trot to the front entrance reeking of dope, the fresh smell of alcohol escaping their lips with every word. At the front entrance, they're welcomed by Dumal, one of the school's regular security guards. He ignores the wafting odors as he's done all night, and placates the children, asking in a subtly joking tone,
9

10

The strain of marijuana associated with a strong mental high Stoner jargon: Hogging 33

"What, no dates?" Chris, disillusioned by the intoxicating forces acting on his body, takes the comment as a personal affront and stares down the guard. Daniel, acting as the voice of reason, diffuses the situation, "My girlfriend's inside." Dumal stifles a chuckle and lets the boys through. I swear, we're the kings of this school thinks Chris, entering the building. Gerry is blown away by the entire situation. Inside The Bards Ball Passing through the doors of the school, the lights, differing exponentially between sunlight and fluorescent, blind the inebriated eyes of the trio. They scope out the scene, evaluating the student body and decor. Gerry notices the construction paper loops he used to make in kindergarten. "Nice streamers, he says. Daniel's taken by the lavish tables: silk covers set with beautiful floral arrangements. "The tablecloths are kinda coolthe deep mauve really emphasizes the orange flowers. It's not a perfect contrast, but it compliments well." How artsy, Chris thinks, somewhat impressed, if not surprised, that the graduation committee pulled through. His interest is short lived as his appreciation gives into teenage angst and apathy. He notices Amy Feathers, the loosest girl in school, prancing around on the dance floor wearing a dress as ugly as it is revealing. He taps Gerry on the shoulder and says, "Hey Ger, I'll give you a hundred bucks if you rail that chick." Daniel and Ger start laughing, the latter coughing up and choking on juice all the while. The narcotics settle in and override the trio's sense of judgment. Chris pushes Gerry to the dance floor, too uncomfortable to take the lead. Daniel follows, trying to help Gerry as he falls to the floor, only to get shoved by Chris in the process. The three join arms and start spinning around, laughing and screaming like hyenas. Half of the students take notice: some associating the three as the Kings of the school, while others, high on the intellectual ladder but low on the social realm, figure them to be idiots or troublemakers. Neither side is wrong.

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Wendy sits by herself at the table, watching the intoxicated trio dance around the auditorium, holding arms and falling over top each other. Theyre embarrassing not only themselves but the community as a whole, Wendy sighs, wondering when Daniel will come and sit with her. Five minutes pass and the circular motion starts playing head games with Daniel. He leaves the dance floor, heading to the rear exit to get some fresh air. Gerry follows, assuming Daniel is planning to smoke more dope. Daniel reaches the rear exit and cracks the door open. As he turns around, hes caught by surprise by Gerry's dorky, albeit loveable, smile staring him in the face. Gerry pulls out a small chillum11, packed with a fresh bowl, and asks, "Hey Dan, you ever smoke on private property?" Daniel's heart races: rules and ethics flooding his brain. He covers the pipe with his hand, "Are you crazy? Put that shit away before we get caught." Gerry, unaffected by reasonable judgement (in this state) tries to calm Daniel, "Chill out man, all we need's is a distraction. Daniel notices the slurring in Gers voice. Meanwhile - Catharsis Jaime is talking to Shirley, a pretty redhead with an ass that fits. Jaime explains how despite some troubles, she and Chris have managed to work things out and get their relationship back on track. Therapeutically, she admits, "It was my fault. I ignored him while I tried to figure out how I felt, which only pushed him away." Jaime looks down at her feet, subduing anger in guilt, "Ihe said he cheated on me, but I can't blame him. At least we're together now, y'know?" Shirley feels extremely empathetic to Jaime's pitiful story, "So, which one is he?" she asks. Jaime looks around, quickly spotting Chris; no surprise considering his ostentatious choice of clothing on a regular basis. She points at him with a smile on her face, "That's my Chris. The one in the white."
11

A small, handheld, glass pipe 35

Shirley looks over, and, being struck with an immediate sense of shame, explains, "Oh JaimeIt'd be worse if I didn't tell you, but I slept with Chris about a month ago. I'm so sorry." Simultaneously A Laden Penance for Chris It's nearing half past ten when I see Jaime talking to a girl who looks really familiar. Yeah man, she's that red head from that party the other night, the one that And then it hits me. There's more to her than the booty she's packing behind that miniskirt. The hair, the ass: that's the girl I boned the night before Jaime and I got back together. I knew she looked familiar! I turn around and catch Jaime staring at me. White tux amongst a flock of penguins: I'm a fucking pimple in the crowd. Shes got a smile on her face and she points over to me. She must been claiming her territory or something but the second she's done her sentence the redhead says something that drops Jaime's smile like an anvil on a cartoon show. It's weird man, I'm about thirty meters away but I can feel the heat from the fire in her eyes. Before I can do anything Jaime grabs Shirley's hair, slaps her face, and rips off her shoulder strap. Shirley scratches Jaime's face, and tears a side out of her dress. I rush my way through the crowd, pushing freaks and geeks apart. * On the other side of the room, Gerry, noticing two girls destroying each other's clothing exclaims, "Cat Fight!" without a moment's hesitation, let alone a second thought. Heads turn as eager students swarm around the battling duo. Gerry whips out his lighter, torches the bowl furiously, and inhales as deeply as he can. He cracks open the door to exhale and hands the pipe over to Daniel. "Quick, your turn. *

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I rush my way through the crowd, through nerd and dork alike, until I reach centre stage. Some knucklehead has beaten me to it, and I swear if he isn't groping those two ladies-my lady. I give the kid a shove, but he stumbles a few feet forward instead of falling down. Weird, usually they get knocked to the floor. He turns around and shoves his face in mine. "What," he says, acting all macho. I tell the guy to mind his own business, and he tells me to mind my own. The ball's been dropped so there's nothing to hide. "Look man, this girl here," I grab Jaime, "She's my girlfriend, and this girl here?" I grab the redhead Shirley, "well, this girl and me had a 'lil something of an affair, but-" Rising Action Pearce socks Chris in the face, overwhelmed by his presumed stupidity. Chris, managing to dodge a direct blow to his nose, returns the favour, punching Pearce in the face. Rage takes over. On the other side of the room, Gerry's mind has reached a new plateau of intoxication. Hes still holding the pipe out in the open. Daniel, conditioned by stoner habits, grabs the pipe before rational thoughts invade his mind. He looks around, making sure the coast is clear. He sees Chris and Pearce slugging the hell out of each other. Charged with a sense of loyalty and nobility, he shoves the pipe back into Gerry's hand, parting, "Here, take it," as he runs off towards the duo like a heat-seeking missile. Daniel climbs through the crowd and jumps on the assailants back, thwarting a knockout blow. Hes sitting on Pearce by the time the two hit the floor. The two kings make eye contact, and Chris shoots Daniel the "are you ready to do this?" look. Daniel nods and the two continue to lay a barrage of blows on Pearce. Daniel perks up at the familiar sent of weed as Gerry comes barreling through the crowd, tripping over, and falling on top of Pearce. Daniel gets up, plants his feet on the ground, and assesses the situation.

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* Wendy looks around, searching for Jaime. Where is that crazy girl, who knows what kind of trouble shes getting herself into? This is the kind of crap that happens when you have out with Chris! * Cal, Pearce's buddy, notices his friend receiving the beat-down of a lifetime from three strangers. Imbued by morals, he sets his passive nature aside, and walks over to Chris calmly. Daniel notices Cal walking towards Chris, and tries to warn him. Cal taps the white shoulder of the tuxedo first. Chris turns around and Cal knocks him to the floor with a clear shot to the nose, breaking it on impact. The trail of blood flowing from and following Chris to the ground inspires Daniel, sending him on a mission of divine retribution: He lunges at Cal, receiving a copulating blow to the face. Daniel lands on Cal, briefly knocking the wind out of him. Animalistic tendencies take over: Daniel slugs Cal repeatedly in the chest, managing to get a few punches to the face. Cal in turn sends copious amounts of fist into Daniel's lower entrails. Pearce turns Gerry's inexperienced jaw into mush, only stopping once Gerry's severed tooth finds itself lodged in Pearce's fist. Six staff hired to supervise the night and maintain order at all circumstances break up the fight. Two of the men, Harry and Baltimore, grab Daniel by the shoulder, pull him off of Cal, and drag him to the exit. Three of the remaining suited authorities, Charles, Leroy, and Hank, guide Cal, Gerry, and Pearce to the exits respectively. The last man, Dirk, picks up Chris' limp body and carries him outside.

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Meanwhile B.F.F.s12 Wendy heads to the bathroom as the principle tries to regain control of the festivities. On her way out, she passes by a janitor pushing a cleaning cart towards the dance. Cleanup: aisle floor. She opens the door and stops dead in her footsteps, hearing the faint whimper of crying emanating from a stall. Jaime, is that you? The crying stops, Wendy? Wendy walks towards the third stall on the right and eases the door open. Jaimes sitting on the toilet, mascara stains running down her cheeks. Poor thing, just look at you. Wendy, isis everything going to be ok? Jaime starts crying. Lets just get you cleaned up, alright? Wendy extends her hand to Jaime, and pulls her off of the seat. Jaime sits on the counter while Wendy dabs off the ruined mascara, re-applying a fresh layer of makeup. Do you remember when we used to do this when we were kids? she begins. Jaime laughs, Yeah, we couldnt wait to grow up. Now look at us, her eyes connect with Wendys, Whodathunk, eh? Oh you. Now look, everythings just going to be fine. Wendy pauses before applying blush. Jaimes starts sniffling again. I-I thought I was okay with it. I mean, we talked, and everythingbut seeing her here, and talking to her, and having her say it: it was all just too much, and- Now now Jaime, calm down. Theres no reason to dig up the past. Let bygones be bygones, right? I always told you that Chris would be nothing but trouble. But- Nothing; but trouble Jaime. Trouble, with a capital T. Wendy felt like she was on cloud nine. She liked helping her friends. Jaime clutched onto Wendys arm tightly. Are you-are you gonna tell them about the test? Oh I know what Im going to do, Jaime. I always know what Im going to do. Wendys trademark grin re-appears: Jaime looks comforted by it. Dont worry James, Ill
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Best Friends Forever 39

take care of you. Outside - The Kings Dethroned The hired men sit the offenders on the curb, standing between them, taking preemptive caution to nullify further fighting. Dirk dials 9-1-1 on his phone, feeling slight remorse for the students about to face the harsh reality of the law. Gerry tongues his bleeding, empty gum, spitting up a mix of blood and saliva into an ever-growing puddle on the sidewalk. Daniel's stuck thinking about his parents; his hands shake with adrenaline as he tries to calm his nerves. Cal and Pearce look at each other, discussing minimally, trying to figure out what just happened. Minutes pass and Chris comes to, confused, but happy to see comrades by his side. He notices Daniel and his black eye; Chris nods approvingly. He looks down and sees his white tux covered in red. Images of his angry, heart-broken mother flood his mind. Sirens ring out in the background as three police cars make their way down the highway, heading towards Anonymous High. Reality checks in as the three kings realize their summer plans won't likely go on as expected.

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