MONSTERS EAT ICE CREAM

MINT AND BERRY

Two creatures, who had once been two of my high school teachers, had turned into something else entirely. The halls of the empty Westmen High shook, and I knew I needed to get out. But I couldn't just leave Drake, either. As the roars of the creatures rattled through the halls, I crept on all fours over to the glass cage. 

"Drake!" I hissed to an unconscious heap. As soon as the fight began, he'd fallen to the floor, and the tar has stopped leaking from his face. But he could be hurt, and I needed to make sure he was safe. And far away from the Spirit Hag, and whatever my English Tutor had become. 

With trembling fingers I unwound the belt and pulled a heavy, very passed out jock onto my shoulders. Struggling the whole way with a fierce groan I dragged him through the halls, winding around the supernatural fight. Screeches vibrated through the metal and the floorboards. 

What the hell...is Mr Baxter...it doesn't matter now...gotta get Drake safe and out of here...

Panting, I shuffled him limb by limb into his Jeep. Fumbling, I yanked his keys from his pockets and soon enough we were out of the school parking lot, racing through the rain. 

_____

I didn't know when he would wake up. Part of me he would wake up soon, another part of me hoped he would keep sleeping. It was going to be...difficult to explain all of it to him. It was so much to handle, even for me. I was scared, really. I'd try and tell him, but I couldn't tell him everything. Not about me. 

I pulled into my driveway, checking the clock. The rain thrummed against the roof of the Jeep. 

6.00. Mum won't be home for a while. Good. 

I rested my chin on the wheel. This really wasn't how I pictured my Friday going. I figured I'd get my essay practice writing done, impress my new English tutor, go home, tease Drake by putting on my new Raspberry Clash! Gloss and go home to take a stupidly long shower. I had a habit of doing so during storms. There was a window pane just next to the shower I loved to peer through, watching the droplets and lightning strikes dance behind the glass. 

Instead, I'd still be having a stupidly long shower, but I wouldn't be showering. Nope. I'd be scrubbing the supernatural off of a cute meat-head. And after my last run-in with the black tar, I was far too aware of how long it took to scrub off. 

Huffing and puffing I helped a now half-awake Drake upstairs, past the television with the news babbling on and into my rooms ensuite. The showers hot water fogged the glass, and I got to work. Mint and Berry soap, to rid the tar from his chin, eyes and ears. 

I shrugged on his letterman jacket, the bathroom somehow cold despite the warm water fogging the glass littered with pink cupcake and unicorn stickers. I'd put those on when I was six, and never took them off. I liked to stare at them and dream of when I was kid when  sat at the bottom of the shower, hugging my knees close to my chest. 

Please be okay.

I brushed a few blonde strands from his face, praying my best friend would be okay. And that he would forget everything.