Cliche (Lams)

Chapter Nineteen

I'm writing this at school lol
send help
I have to do a presentation about Federalist Papers.
Fun.

Alec Pov
The rest of my day included, sleeping, puking, and feeling dead inside. I'll talk to John tomorrow.

Maybe he knows what else went down last night.

All I know is that somehow I got high and the bad part is the thing I do remember was it feeling so, so great.
I guess that's why the call it being high.

Maybe not though.

But hey, weed might be bad but at least it wasn't like heroin or something. Alright that was a pretty bad comparison since heroin is almost literal death but...
yeah.

"Hey Alec. You feeling alright?" Laf asked, leaning on my doorway.

"No. I've puked eight times in the past two hours." I muttered, my eyes closed.

"Damn. Was your first alcohol experience cool though?" He asked.

"Yeah. If I could remember it." I said.

"You don't remember anything?" He asked sitting on my bed.

"I remember being with John, then he disappeared and then getting trashed. Oh and then this girl tried to rub my dick and then I talked to Thomas Jefferson and then I got offered weed."

"What'd the girl look like?" He asked.

"I dunno. Dark brown hair, blueish grey dress." I described.

"Holy shit. Eliza Schuyler tried to- oh my goodness." He said, rubbing his head.

I pushed myself up and sat up.

"Did Martha and George get mad at you?" I asked.

"Yeah." He muttered.

"I was a bit surprised they didn't use belts." I said.

"Belts?"
"To beat us."
"They don't do that."
"Oh."

"Alright, I'm gonna go back to my room. See you later." He said getting up.

"Byeee." I groaned.

He left my room and I slowly lied back down to not irritate my head.

"Son?" I heard George say.

"Yes da- si- George?" I choked.

He smirked and closed the door behind him. I felt my shoulders tense and I made myself relax.

"Earlier I didn't talk to much to you about everything so I thought I might now." He said sitting down on my bed.

I sat up, my head pounding ever so slightly. "What do you want to know? I went to a party, got drunk, then high." I said lazily.

"Do you know who brought pot?" He asked.

"No." I said.

"Wait.
Actually I think it was a kid named..Francis? Francis Kinloch." I told him.

"Are you absolutely sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. John and I talked about it bef-" I cut myself off and George gave me a suspicious look.

"Before what?" He almost growled.
I didn't say anything.

Look, I'll rat Kinloch out but I'm not ratting our myself and John.

"Son, I can't help you if you don't tell me anything." He told me, resting his hand on my shoulder. I had to stop myself from flinching but my shoulders kept stiff.

I glared at his hand and let out a sigh.

"I knew there was gonna be marijuana before the party happened." I said quietly.

"You knew, and you decided to do it anyways?" He asked.

"I didn't decide! I was drunk!" I exclaimed, pushing his hand off of my shoulder.

"I don't think John did anything so don't even talk about him because I know you're going to. Just leave it all alone. It's fine." I said.

"No it's not Alec. Smoking weed is illegal. You wouldn't get in too much trouble but Francis Kinloch?
The guy who brought it?
Would go to jail.
It's extremely important Alec." He told me.

"W-what?" I asked hesitantly.
"I-I'm sorry." I whispered.

"I know. I'm going to leave you alone again. Just try to rest."

Holy fuck.
Jail?
Francis might go to jail?
I really need to fucking talk to John.