Acting Out [Student/Teacher, GxG]

First Impressions

Just as I started to drift off to sleep, my alarm began to blare from my bedside table. Well that's just fucking wonderful. I fumbled around for my phone and shut off the alarm, looking at the time — 04:00. The 5am classes were supposed to get us ready to work long, early shifts, but every morning without fail I just wished I could have even one more hour of sleep.

I crawled out of bed despondently and all but fell into the wall searching for the light switch. Okay, Rowan. Here we go. Blinking the weariness out of my eyes, I put on a pot of coffee and grabbed the bottle of Dexedrine. I debated popping them, but decided it probably wasn't going to cut it. Instead, I opened up three capsules, tapping the beads out onto the counter. I grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer and used it to crush them into a fine powder to bypass the extended release, working with the edge to scoop it into a pile. I wasn't proud of this particular habit, but I'd feel even worse about myself if I slept through my morning lectures. Before I could talk myself out of it, I picked up a 7/11 receipt I'd discarded by the sink, rolled it tightly, and blocked my right nostril with my finger, sucking the pale orange-tinged powder through the makeshift tube with a sharp inhale. I shook my head at the chemical taste dripping down the back of my throat, crumpled the receipt and tossed it, and made my way to the shower.

When I was eleven, all of the late nights out at events started to impact my school performance and when my parents found out... well, I barely had time to blink before I was seeing a psychiatrist. My mother talked the poor man's ear off for an hour and soon enough I had a diagnosis of ADD and a prescription for dextroamphetamine. They kept me awake well enough and evidently I never got off of them.

I wouldn't say I abused the pills, but they were always there and I sure wasn't complaining.

I quickly washed my hair and body and jumped out of the shower, tripping over my pyjamas on the way out. I didn't have much time, knowing that my lack of sleep would show unless I went above and beyond with my makeup.

Sure enough, when I looked in the mirror, my skin looked dull and discoloured and the bags under my eyes could practically be seen from space. Luckily, this wasn't my first time covering up the physical evidence of a sleepless night.

I dumped the contents of my makeup bag into the sink and sighed. Here we go again. Moisturizer. Primer. Foundation. Concealer. Powder. Contour. Blush. Highlight. Eyeliner.

I was usually a lot more relaxed with the amount of energy I put into my makeup; I'd always gotten eyelash extensions and my skin was clear so most days I could get away with just a bit of foundation and setting powder.

I don't know why I cared so much about what people thought of me. I knew I was attractive, but sometimes it felt like to other people that was all I was, and I guess part of me still wanted to be liked no matter how dehumanizing it felt. Old habits die hard.

After brushing my teeth and drying my hair, I darted over to my closet and pulled on a pair of white high waisted skinny jeans, a baby pink blouse, and my long tan cashmere coat. In my full-length mirror, I had to admit I looked better than I expected. The jeans accentuated my tiny waist while the looser fit of the blouse drew attention to my curves and pronounced collarbones. The coat tied it all together and made the whole outfit look casually elegant.

I checked my watch and swore. Fucking hell, I'm going to have to speed like a motherfucker.

I ran to the door, haphazardly dumping the pot of coffee into my oversized travel mug on the way, and tugged on my boots, praying that there wouldn't be any cops patrolling for speeders on my route this morning.

•••

Some higher power must've been looking out for me because just as the clock struck 5, I was in my seat — slightly flustered, but present. I wasn't tired, but I suddenly felt... off. I was jittery, nauseous, and I felt almost manic in the sense that everything seemed faster than usual and somehow elevated from my normal state. "Shit," I whispered as I realized what had happened. No sleep, caffeine, and too much Dexedrine were not a good combination. Hopefully it wasn't noticeable, but with my luck, my pupils probably looked like saucers.