Under the Influence

Chapter One: Just the Beginning

   “I have—“

   “I meant a social life,” he interjected. I really hated my brother’s pep talks. It was at times like these where I wished my parents were still around. Their talks were faster and more efficient. And I didn’t feel so indignant after.

   “Scott, I can take care of myself and make my own decisions. I’m not a kid.”

   He raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender while trying to hold back a grin. “I never said you were. I was just trying to help, okay, Little Miss Grown-Up?”

   “My friends and I… We just grew apart, that’s all,” I lied. I scoffed internally. Grew apart? More like I grew distant and they didn’t want to deal with me anymore.

   “Sure.” He could tell I was lying, but (thankfully) dropped the subject. “Hey, did I tell you that one of my friends Iced me at the comic book store?”

   “Iced you?” I arched an eyebrow.

   “Yeah. You’ve never heard of Icing someone?” The bemused expression on my face must’ve told that I had never in fact heard of ‘Icing’ before. He explained what it meant and told me about this stupid game involving Smirnoff Ice and stupidity (and usually frat boys) and after that, I just tuned his voice out. I pretended to listen, though, occasionally nodding my head or offering an “Ah, that’s cool” or “Mmhmm.”

   We continued talking about everything and nothing until the bell rang and everyone else in the library scrambled to get to their classes.

   Scott rose up from his chair slowly and reached over the table to ruffle my hair. “See you at home, Charlie.” He shot me a grin and started to stride out of the library, and then abruptly stopped and turned to face me again. “Remember: No. More. Reading. Textbooks. For. Fun.”

   I rolled my eyes and nodded.

   Seeming satisfied enough with my response, Scott chuckled light-heartedly and left the library.

   Quickly, I shoved my half-eaten sandwich back into my lunchbox and gathered up all my belongings. On the way out, I tossed my empty juice box into the recycling bin right outside the library. I rushed through the crowded hallway, pushing past people and dodging the throngs of students that were filing in the hall from the cafeteria.

   I knew how nerdy it sounded, but I didn’t want to be late to class. My attendance record was pretty much perfect, and I wasn’t changing that now.

   When I finally reached my locker, I hurriedly entered the combination and the lock popped open. I traded my lunchbox for books, binders and whatever else I needed for my afternoon classes. I spared a glance down at my watch. Five minutes left until Biology officially started. And it was on the other end of the school. Great.

   I took a few calming breaths. It was okay. I had plenty of time, I assured myself.

   Briefly glancing at the small mirror I had taped to the inside of my locker, right under where my schedule was, I noticed how messy my straw-coloured hair was, probably from Scott ruffling it. I ran my hands through the silky strands in an attempt to straighten them. It didn’t work too well.

   I gave my watch another quick peek. Four minutes left. That should be enough time to get to class if I hurried.

   And with that last thought, I slammed my locker shut and rearranged the books in my arms so my right hand was free to lock it back up.

   The halls were much clearer now that most students were already in their classrooms or on their way there. A few people remained in the hall, either at their locker or talking to their friends.