Someone Out There Loves You (Adopted by Frank Iero)

48

ALEXA

The past week had passed by in a blur. Vic and I grew closer, using lunch to get as high as possible at the back of the school. We had only skipped class one other time since Monday, which was during maths on Wednesday. It was just after Calli had shoved me roughly for walking in her way even though we were both heading to the same room. She threw some insults which I didn't particularly remember because all I could focus on was how nice her makeup looked that day and how bright the blue of her eyes looked in the lighting, and when she walked off, flicking hair over her shoulder and smirking at Jess, Vic grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the drama room.

As soon as she playfully shoved me to the ladder and we had pulled ourselves up onto the loft, she crossed her arms, a wicked grin on her face, and asked me straight up if I had feelings for Calli. When I spluttered out nothing in particular because I was that caught off guard, she began laughing, saying I looked like a lovesick puppy, and that she had 'been there done that in middle school'.

It felt good being able to talk about my twisted feelings with someone who didn't judge me for my sexuality because they were also queer, and nothing helps queer people bond faster than realising the other person is also queer and discussing the terrible person you have a crush on with them. Plus the amount of weed we had smoked during the week. You become close with someone the more you get high with them.

Vic became the person I was confiding in about the stress of school. I didn't delve into details about my past, and frankly neither did she. She would confide in me about her parents pushing her into college even though she knew she didn't want to do it because she wanted to be a tattoo artist.

"Grades don't matter in the tattoo world - you just gotta be creative. It's an artform. No one cares if you know how to derive an equation or some shit."

I tilted my head back and blew out the smoke in my lungs. "I guess they just want you to have stability, and they see education as a way to have that. And hey, at least they care."

Vic took the joint from me with a laugh. "It's fucking annoying. I'm all for caring, but don't make me live the life you wanted but didn't have 'cause you got yourself knocked up straight outta high school."

"Mmm, that's fair." I nodded. "My dad's cool like that. All he said was like, 'be better than me in school' and so I was like, 'what, only skip class to get high a few times a week?' So like, I think I'm meeting his expectations. I mean, this is during lunch."

Vic burst out laughing. "Your dad seems so fuckin' cool." She passed it back to me.

I smiled fondly, looking vaguely ahead across the football field as I brought the joint to my lips and took a long inhale. "Yeah, he is. Except when he cut me off from his smokes."

"No way," she roared.

I played with a loose thread on my hoodie sleeve. The warm weather was a huge problem at the moment. It was supposedly building to a heatwave on the weekend, words that I would rather not hear.

"Yep," I grumbled. "I mean, like, yeah they're his, but still! I'm pissed."

Since Frank had caught me stealing his cigarettes and I told him I would stop, I had been going insane. Messing with my meds didn't feel like it was enough of an escape. I needed something to take me away. I was longing for it. The nicotine was able to satisfy that urge while it lasted, but now that was gone, leaving a craving for something destructive that was bigger than before.

Vic turned to me, blowing some of her bright red hair out of her face, and gave me her signature wicked smile. That smile meant she was up to no good, and every time it got my heart thumping with anticipation.