Rules of a Rebel

Chapter 27: Take Drugs

Rule #17: Take Drugs

The more unnecessary they are, the better. 

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Going home was anti-climatic.  

Instead of loud lectures or red face, the only thing to greet me when I entered the house was snoring relatives and empty beer cans. That's to be expected, I suppose, considering it's seven o'clock in the morning. Since everybody is asleep, I don't need to worry about racist grandmothers or slut-shaming cousins. 

Speaking of which - I spot Bettie fast asleep on my blankets, drooling on my pillow. Since she goes to an expensive private school, Bettie doesn't have to go back to school until January. It also means that she'll be hogging my bed for the next weeks. 

She mumbles something under her breath. I would listen in but I don't really care about Bettie's dreams. 

So, without sparing her another glance, I enter my bathroom to get ready for school. 

With heavy limbs, I change into my classic leather jacket and boots. The clothes Irene bought when she visited lie forgotten in the corner. I spare a glance in the mirror.

Dark bags under my eyes. Red nose. Pale skin. Not exactly the ideal way to wake up. That, added to the fact that I slept in a treehouse last night, makes it safe that I've come down with a cold. 

I cough into my arm.

Usually, I would take my distress as an opportunity to ditch school and stay at home. However, considering the fact that both my grandmother and my cousins are at home, relaxing would be the last thing I would be doing if I stayed here. 

With that in mind, I layer my face with makeup until I look relatively normal. No amount of concealer can hide my bloodshot eyes, so I slip on a pair of dark sunglasses before grabbing my headphones and going downstairs. 

Just before I reach the front door, a blur of blue and yellow slams into me. It's Melody. Her force nearly knocks the sunglasses off my nose. 

Melody wraps me into her tight hug, her arms wrapping around my waist in a way that's almost painful. With my muddled mind and weak arms, I don't have the strength - or will - to push her away. 

Instead, I settle for a scowl and a "What the hell are you doing?" 

"What you did last night was awesome. I totally would have recorded it if it weren't for the fact that mom took our phones before dinner. That's okay though. The whole thing is engraved inside of my brain," Melody nuzzles my shoulder, causing shivers to run down my spine. "I'm just going to replay that moment every time grandmother says how being gay is a sin." 

I stare at the ceiling, dizzy. "Since when did you care so much about what grandmother said?" 

"Since I became politically aware of the world outside our own." 

I have no idea what that means. Maybe it's because I'm sick. Maybe it's because it's Melody talking. Either way, we're going to be late for school. I'm about to tell her to get lost when somebody knocks on the door. 

The loud rapping sound feels like it's pounding into my brain. 

I wince. 

Melody swings the door. "Hey, Archer - whoa, you look horrible!" 

And indeed he does. It seems like I'm not the only one effected by last night. Archer has similar bloodshot eyes and slumped shoulders as me. 

"Rough night?" I question.