XXVIII: november, past

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JORGEN, PAST

Every other night I spent at the Barn. That was the deal. That was what my parents allowed so long as my grades didn't slip and they didn't. I was fine. My grades were fine.

Everything else was shit but my grades were fine. They really didn't need to know, I wasn't in the house much if at all.

I slipped in, walked past them eating dinner together, went upstairs, did my work, slept, then slipped out again. Every other day. Like a normal family harboring an intruder. Peter didn't make it better.

I had no connection to it anymore, to them anymore. I was in a different school, I was doing different things, the guys at the Barn liked me enough and the people from St. B's and the public school liked me not at all. It was a balance state, teetering on a slackline over hell.

"Baby," Bea was a senior with me at the new school, she'd stuck to me when I showed up, convinced I was her untamable boy fairytale, I didn't have the heart to tell her to fuck off. "My parents aren't home tonight."

I chewed the inside of my lip, watching my hands on the table, "I'll think about it."

"Think harder."

"I have something after this."

"Harder, is it really worth it?" Her fingers trailed down the center of my chest, goosebumps erupting on my skin against my consent. There was something in her that I felt, a hurt, hers was different, though. I didn't know much about her, I went over and got out my energy, her room was accessible from the outside so I never saw the rest of the house.

"Yes," I grumbled. It was important. Emma Avery disappeared off the face of the earth for me for a few months after she cut off our... whatever that was in early September. It was November now, a chill on the air that I wasn't a big fan of. It reminded me of things I needed to do, schools I had applied for, all of them shooting well below where the counselor at the new school said I could apply for.

He recommended my reach schools should be Duke and Yale.

My most 'prestigious' application spot was U of I.

I didn't want to go. I didn't care when he said I'd be brilliant. I didn't want to go. I didn't bat an eye when my rank in the grade was top ten out of seven hundred. I didn't give a shit. I didn't want anything to do with anything and to be honest.

I was planning on not being above ground much further past March.

So, it didn't matter where I went because they wouldn't be getting me.

After school was done I followed a path I knew too well and flopped down on the bench outside of the gates of St. B's, the jacket over my shoulders was far too thin but I wasn't going to be out there long.

EMMA: hey, i know it's been months but i was wondering if you were still selling.

JORGEN: i am. Why.

EMMA: jessie wanted to try, do you remember her?

It was a stupid question in my mind, of course I remembered her.

So I sat on the bench and waited on my phone until two cute little boots stopped in front of mine.

"Hi."

I looked up, it was the first time I'd seen Jessie Kingston since the spring, she looked different. Her hair was down, curly as usual, but she looked tired. Her shirt was a little untucked on one side and one of her socks was not pulled up to where it normally is. Something was wrong. "Hello."

"Um, Emma sent me, she... didn't- she didn't want to... it was going to be awkward."

I stood up, rising to a height she hadn't seen me at before. Her eyes went a little wide.

"Did you grow?"

I nodded but couldn't think of anything to say, there was something there, something that was wrong. She wasn't right. I wanted to spin her around, inspect her, ask questions, make sure nothing was happening with her. I refrained.

"Um, so, I just, I have the... money, that you said that you wanted and-"

"Are you sure about this?"

Her eyes went wide, "what?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"I-I, it's just- I'm just, stressed and people say it helps and everyone has been trying it around here and I don't want to be left-"

I breathed out, forcing it between my lips, "listen to me."

Her eyes and ears snapped back to attention, full focus on me.

"If, in a week from now, you still want this," I patted my front pocket. "I'll be in the same spot at the same time. I want you to rethink, though."

"Oh, why?"

"I dunno, you're Jess Kingston, this isn't... normal."

"You haven't seen me in a year, Jorgen."

"I know you better than this, you're not someone to start using drugs."

"Well, maybe I'm tired of that."

I narrowed my eyes at her, watching the crinkle on her cheek and the circles under her eyes. I traced my eyes down her body, coming across a few things, a slight bruise along her forearm, the inward point of her toes.

"A week." I confirmed.

"Sure," she thought about it and then turned around.

"And Jess," I called, causing her to peep back at me over her shoulder. "Punch whoever gave you that bruise or give me a name and I will."

"I-I bumped into-"

"You're a bad liar."

She turned red and ducks her head, spinning on her heel and speed walking away.

I breathed in, backing away until she turned the corner, then turned my back. 

***

this is short but the next two i think will be fun

-rabid

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