Gibbs High School is nothing worthy of talking about. Finley and Willow have become a frequent fixture during my school day. Willow is definitely the quiet observer in the trio we've created. She doesn't speak much, but when she does, she's blunt and doesn't hold back. Finley on the other hand is a talker with his ADHD ass, I'm the 'speak when I want' kind of guy, so it all works out.
Home is definitely more noteworthy. Specifically with Julian. With Kayla in cheerleading after school and their parents at work, Julian picks me up everyday. I found out he works at some local smoke shop in the morning- which is only five minutes away from the High school- and gets off around the same time I do. The drives with him have been... interesting.
Tuesday's car ride went sometime like this; "Don't touch my radio," Julian swats at my hand that attempted to switch his shitty music.
"Don't touch my hand," I counter and we don't speak for the rest of the ride.
On Wednesday, he's late again, but not as bad as Monday. and he actually texts me to let me know. "Surprised you texted me," I say once I'm in his passenger seat, my backpack shoved down by my feet.
"Why is that surprising?" He pulls out of the school parking lot once I'm settled.
"Because letting people know when they're gonna be late is admirable and common courtesy, which you tend to lack," I explain with a pleasant smile at the end.
"That's brave of you to say considering I pick your ass up. I could stop," Julian threatens, but it's harmless.
"Then Laura would chew your head off," I point out.
"After curb-stomping me," he adds as if serious.
"Oh God," I laugh, "I can see her doing that." Julian snorts and shakes his head. "You missed the turn," I inform him after we drive past our regular street.
"I know."
"Going a different way?" I ask.
"No," is all he says.
"Okay... then where are we going?"
"I gotta pick somethin' up then we'll go home," he tells me nonchalantly. Julian tends to have an issue with adding details, he can be very short and vague. He used to tell me everything, but we're not close anymore, so I'm not surprised.
Unfortunately for him, I'm nosy and I tend to have an issue with not minding my own business, so I ask, "Pick something up?" And for some reason my first thought is "like groceries?"
Julian looks at me like he can't tell if I'm joking then faces the road. "Not like groceries dumbass. I'm picking up flower."
"Flower?" Flower, flower, flower, "oh," it hits me. "Weed, you're picking up weed."
"Yeah. And if you tell my mom about this, I'm gonna-"
"What?" I challenge. "What are you gonna do to me if I narc on you?" I roll my eyes at his ridiculousness.
"Just... don't say anything."
"I'm not saying anything. Isn't it legal here?"
"And expensive, and only for 21 year olds. I'm nineteen."
"You used to be against drugs," I recall, but not in a judgmental way.
"Smoking isn't as bad as our parents made it out to be."
"Actually, my mom and dad smoked weed," I tell him.
"Really? Abby and David?"
"Those are my parents, yes. Whenever they'd go to their friend's house, they'd come back smelling like weed. I think they mostly smoked socially though."
YOU ARE READING
Something About Him
Teen Fiction[bxb] After a traumatic event, Mathew- or Matty as everyone calls him- moves into a family/friend's home; the Wilson's. Laura Wilson is his God Mother and she has two kids, Julian and Kayla who Matty hasn't seen for seven years. Matty used to best f...
