Friday
The warm, California November air serenaded the group of us as we sat outside during lunch.
"Dude, the party tonight is gonna be sick. Maybe Dad will let us drink some," Ryan said as he bit into his cheese and tomato sandwich.
I shrugged as I sipped my single lunch item, water. "Because drinking is so cool," I said sarcastically as I winked at Brittany.
"I don't know, Abi, when Ryan gets around alcohol I hear he'll do some strip teases for us," she laughs, making us all laugh. The first time Ryan got drunk, he was around a bunch of older kids. He was a freshman and he insisted he had drank before to seem cool, and got so drunk that he started to do strip teases at the party in front of a bunch of high schoolers. It was pretty embarrassing, luckily most of them graduated that year so he could mostly live it down.
"Not cool, Brit," his smile faded quick. Tomato juice dropped from his sandwich onto his white Smiths tee shirt, making us all laugh and Jon spit his water onto me.
"Jon! You douche-ass. I didn't want water all over me for the rest of the day!"
"Oh yea?"
"Yea," I said as I playfully shove him onto the grass.
"You thought," he yelled back as he pulled me down with him.
Brittany and Ryan were rolling. When Ryan would smile, pieces of tomato were stuck to his pearly white teeth, causing us to continue laughing. Catching my breath, I pull myself up to the table and sigh, still laughing.
"Anyways, yea man. I know the party tonight will be sick," Ryan repeated to Jon.
"Alright man, well I can't be around alcohol or anything. Something could get out and ruin my career, or Brittany's, literally anyone's. But I can't let something like that get out, I have the show to worry about," Jon stated seriously. He's going to start filming for a new show called SeaQuest DSV in a year, and he has to be extra careful whenever he goes out to be sure no rumors can get started. Underage drinking would kill his career.
"Man, lighten up. Dad says shit like that won't kill a career as long as you're not the one drinking. Plus, don't worry. Dad would never let the press get into my life," Ryan reassured him.
Ryan's dad is James Cameron, and considering he's got all the money in the world he needs, he's really laid back. Ryan is always having parties and going to the best concerts, meeting the coolest actors and singers, living every teenagers dream. Though he is down to earth, his head is up in the clouds.
The lunch bell rang and we stood up from our courtyard lunch table. "Hey Jon, I'm gonna just go straight to your house after school until it's time for the party," I informed him as we walk to our last period class.
"That's fine. Maybe we can get some food or something as well," he suggested.
"We'll see. I'll see you after class," I said as I walked into my art class.
Art is the same every day. As usual, Ms. Fawcett stood in the front of the class and bitched about the same two guys who never do their work and shadily showed favoritism in those who do their work.
Finally after what seemed like hours of hopeless painting, the bell rang and I ran to go meet Jon by the car.
I finally reach the doors of the school and walk to my car, where Jon is already leaned against the passenger door looking effortlessly cool. I teasingly yanked his brown flannel and he turned quickly.
"Abi! You can't go sneaking up on me like that," he playfully hits me. I laughed as I made my way to my door.
"You had to have seen it coming," I said as I started the car.
"Well, can't say I expect anything different from you. Hey, do you want to get some dinner before the party?"
"Jon, I have no money. Myles and Joe haven't needed any help at the shop, so I haven't been working," I solemnly respond.
"Abi, I can pay for you," he pleaded.
"You always pay for me," I complained.
"And? Come on Abi, please?"
"I-," I started to argue, but Jon shushed me and turned up the radio as Fast Car by Tracy Chapman played.
We smiled and took in the wonderful song together as we sang until we pull into his driveway.
As we walked into the white doors of the beautiful house, his mom greeted me with the usual hug and "how are you?"
"What are you kids going to be up to tonight?" Mary asked as she wiped off the kitchen island.
"We're going to a small get together at Ryan's," Jon informed her as he ate a cookie.
"By small get together you must mean 'sick party'," she joked.
"Of course we do," I responded, smiling.
"Just be safe. Why don't you kids go up to Jon's room? Greg and I are going to dinner in an hour or so, so I need to get ready," Mary suggested.
I shrugged and Jon and I walked up the stairs to his room.
"Still as narcissistic as last time," I smirked as I stepped in. Jon's walls are covered in posters of movies he's been in; Ladybugs, The NeverEnding Story 2, and more posters of movies he likes.
He rolls his eyes as we sit on his bed. "You know-"
"Yes I know, you're proud of your accomplishments. I was picking on you," I quickly defend myself.
Jon and I laid back on his bed as we turned on the TV.
My friendship with Jon is unique. We act like a couple, yet we don't. We cuddle, watch movies, and once we kissed, but we're best friends, nothing more, and that's how we like it.
A few episodes of some new soap opera went by and I looked over at Jon.
"Are you hungry?" I ask him.
"Yea, what time is it?"
"6:15, I'm gonna put some nicer clothes on," I say sitting up.
I go to my car and grab the oversized flannel, translucent tights, black boots and shorts.
"Jon, what do you think of this outfit?" I ask him as I walk in his room holding it.
"I'll have to see it on you," he said as he fixed his hair in his mirror.
I set my clothes on his bed and took my shirt off. I've never minded changing in front of Jon, because we're just that close. As I bent over to pick up deodorant before putting my shirt back on, I feel Jon's cold hand on my back.
"Absidee, what is this?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
I cringed as I remembered the bruise on my back from the previous night.
"Absidee Mack! What the fuck did I say about this mess?" my mother screams with her scratchy smoker voice.
"You said to clean it," I sigh as I wash a cup. "I'll do it when I finish the dishes."
"I said now!"
"If it's that big of a problem, why don't you pick it up? They're your clothes anyways!"
Suddenly, the sharp lash of my fathers belt stings my shoulder blade. I turn just in time to dodge her punch as she throws the belt down. Bolting to the door, I feel tears begin to sting my eyes from the pain of my shoulder blade. Not quick enough. Suddenly, I'm being held against the front door by my neck.
"Do not ever disrespect me again," she threatens. "I don't care if they're my clothes or not, you do as I say. Your dad and I will be busy doing paperwork in the next room, and I'll be out when we're done. If the clothes aren't put into the hallway drawers, I swear to God Absidee. You're in for a rude awakening. Your attitude is unbelievable nowadays. Don't think your father won't hear about it."
The fight finished with my head being slammed into the door. I quickly finished the dishes and put her clothes in the hallway drawers. Then I decided to shower.
After my shower, I turn around to see my shoulder blade, which is still in pain.
"Great," I mumble. "A bruise." A nasty one too. It would last at least a week.
"It's nothing," I quietly said. Concern filled his bright blue eyes, a look I'm very familiar with.
"Abi, you wouldn't lie to me would you?"
"Mom and I got in a fight last night," I explain as I stand up. His eyes got wider as I reached out to grab my flannel.
"Abi, are you cutting again?"
I look down and a tear falls out of my eye. "Yes," I say as I cry, knowing how disappointed Jon was.
"No, no, don't cry. It's okay. What happened?"
"I'm just so depressed, Jon. My mom and dad are so rude, all they do is fuss and fight. I miss my grandma. My mom and dad use me as a punching bag. I don't like to unload all my problems onto you, Jon."
"It's okay. Come here," he says as he holds me, rubbing my hair. "Don't ever hold anything back from me, okay? That's why I'm here. That's why I'm your best friend. I don't want to see you dead, Abi. I want to see you happy."
I breathe deep as I sit back on my heels.
"Here, you should, uh, probably put this on," Jon said as he handed me my flannel. "Wait, is that mine?" he asks as I put on the big red flannel.
"Yea," I say with a small laugh. I always steal his clothes without him knowing. Besides, with the money he makes from his movies, he can always buy more.
"You know, you look better in my clothes than me. It makes me jealous," he jokes. "You know, a new movie of mine comes out next month," he said as I finished getting my outfit on.
"Yea, Sidekicks. What about it?"
"Well, the premier is obviously a thing. I kind of want to bring you. I've never brought you to a premier and I think it would be fun to bring you.
"Jon, I don't know. I don't have anything to wear, and overall I'm just not sure."
"Well, you can have some time to think about it," he said as he shrugged.
I hate to let him down. But me at a premier? No way. I'm more of a stay-at-home and hope for the best friend anyways.
"I guess we should get going," he suggests as he stands up. I slid my boots on and agreed.
"What do you want for dinner?" I asked as we drove through the city lights.
"Well, there's always Italian," he suggests.
"We always eat Italian. What about Chinese?"
"Definitely not. I had enough of that on the set of Sidekicks."
"Well what the hell do you want?"
After a few minutes of bickering, we decided to just get some burgers and fries.
We pulled into the usual place, Benny's, and sat in a booth near the back so nobody could see him.
"Golly, look at this burger. It has every type of food you could think of on it! Imagine how many calories are in it!" Jon exclaimed as he browsed the menu.
"Yea, man that seems.. fatning."
Fatning. Calories. These words burned into my mind as I browsed through the menu myself. There's no way I was going to eat anything on the menu without wanting to puke.
Maybe this once. That way, I won't gain anything from it. I'll do it right before we leave.
Jon must have noticed me thinking. "Penny for your thoughts."
"Just can't decide what I want," I lied through a smile. He smiled back as I fluffed through my short blonde hair.
A long haired brunette waitress walked to our table with our drinks, Jon's was Coke and mine was water. She smiled and asked if we were ready to order food.
"Um, I am. You?" Jon asked.
"Yea. I'll have a basket of handmade fries," I say as Jon gives me a weird look.
"And I'll have a BLT with fries," he smiles as we hand her the menus.
"Alright, that'll be right out!" she says as she walks away.
"You aren't hungry?"
"I'm sure there will be food at the party, besides, gotta keep myself from getting bloated in these shorts," I jokingly smile as I pat his hand.
"Are you gonna drink?" he asks as he plays with his straw wrapper.
"I may. Would you drive?"
"Of course. I want to. But I don't think I will, especially if I have to drive."
"If Brittany doesn't drink, she could drive us to your house," I suggest.
"Maybe. So, Absidee, I wanted to talk to you about after high school."
"Oh, what's, uh, what about?"
"Well, I'm going to film SeaQuest, obviously. But that's in Orlando. Would you, uh, wanna go still?"
"Of course, Jon. I want to be wherever you are. You're my best friend," I respond as I give a reassuring smile.
"Good. So, what's been happening at home? I know I've been home for a while, but I don't feel like we've talked much about home."
"Well, I think dad's drinking a little heavier than usual. I don't think he's working, either. Mom is on Xanax again, and who knows what else. There's all kinds of pills in their room. I think she's shooting up heroin. Or at least has."
"Gosh, it's a wonder she's still alive. Is her attitude worse?"
"Oh of course. There's no fixing that. If I'm not being fussed at for literally breathing, I'm being slammed against the walls or having things thrown at me."
"Abi, why don't you leave?"
"Jon, I've told you once and I'll tell you again, with me, they get money. They would never give up custody of me."
"But-" he started as the waitress brought our food to us.
"Thank you," we said in unison.
"Anything else?"
"No thank you," we said, again in unison.
"Anyways, you turn 18 next month. Maybe you could move in then?"
"Perhaps. We'll see when 18 gets here," I say, sipping my water from the plastic red cup.
Jon and I continued to chat as we ate, about Ladybugs and his upcoming movie Sidekicks. By 8:00, we were ready to go to Ryan's.
Ryan's driveway isn't anything like the average one here in California. It's a long bridge that connects to a mile long driveway, leading to a giant house almost completely hidden by trees until you get right up to it.
We step inside the elegant mansion to be greeted by a group of already drunk partiers.
"I wonder where Ryan is," I loudly asked Jon.
"Probably already hammered," he laughed.
Jon and I made our way through the crowd and started dancing to the loud rock n' roll music blasting through the house. I suddenly remembered the large basket of fries I had eaten for dinner and felt sick to my stomach.
"Hey Jon, I'll be right back," I say over the music. I rush upstairs to the toilet, praying to God no one was in there. My prayers were answered, as I walked into the empty guest bathroom and threw up my dinner.
As I freshened up, I heard my favorite song playing in the house.
"He's the one who likes all our pretty songs and he, likes to sing along and he, likes to shoot his guns," the speakers blared the grungy rock music through the house. I ran out of the bathroom and started to dance my heart out.
After a few hours, vodkas and liqueurs started to make their way into my system through multiple drinks and the night became a slow blur.
I'm not sure how much time passed, but Jon eventually approached me saying we needed to leave.
"But Jon, we were just starting to have fun," I whined, probably slurring my words really bad.
"Yea and some guy has been eyeing you down for the last hour and a half, we need to go. You're drunk."
"Jon, I just want to be normal! A normal teen! Come on, let me stay," I say, getting angry.
Jon picked me up bridal style and continued to walk to the car.
"Jon, stop. This isn't a.. a normal teen. You're c-carrying me to a car just because you want to be home before 11, or because you don't want me to get laid. Whatever it is, Jon, let it go. Let me go!"
"Absidee, you're wasted. Being normal isn't partying hard and sleeping with every person you meet. Sometimes being normal is simply being home and watching movies or something. Why am I even wasting my time? You're drunk and you don't care. We're going home, though."
I rolled my eyes as he set me on my feet next to the passenger door and opened it for me. I collapsed into the seat as he sat in the driver's seat.
"Jon, give me a cigarette," I slurred out.
"Absidee, you have none. You stopped smoking ages ago. Remember?"
"I want a cigarette," I complained.
Sighing, Jon pulled over to a gas station and bought me a pack of Marlboro reds.
"Jon I thought you have to be 18," I asked as I struggled to light the cigarette.
"Yea. Hayden was working tonight," he solemnly said.
I struggled to stay awake while I smoked, and I can't remember if I finished it or if Jon put it out. Either way, I ended up snuggled next to Jon asleep that night.
-
"Absidee, wake up," I hear someone whisper loudly in my ear. Jumping up, I look over to see Jon bent over me, looking restless and sleep deprived.
"Jon? What are you doing?"
"I didn't sleep very well. Anyways, it's 11:00. You need to get up, or at least out of those clothes."
"I just need a shower," I say sitting up groggily.
When I stepped into the bathroom and took off my clothes from the night before, I smelled the red flannel. "Ugh," I wrinkle my nose as I smell the gross mixtures of alcohol on my clothes.
After my quick shower, I walked back to Jon's room to see him bent over his bed looking stressed out.
"Jon, what's wrong?"
"I'm just tired," he said as he jumped up.
"Jon, if something's wrong you can tell me," I tell him.
"Mhm. Come on, let's go get something to eat downstairs. I'm fine, just tired," he insists.
That was the first time I had noticed Jon ever look stressed. Was he tired? Perhaps. Was there something more? Also perhaps. Regardless, Jon wasn't speaking and I wasn't going to keep pressuring him.