Xander
Blood rushed to my head as smoke ran down my throat, twisting its way into the farthest corners of my damaged lungs as I inhaled sharply. With a smile, I exhaled, letting smoke curl around me like the claws of a demon. I set my gravity bong down on my bedside table, trading it for a bottle of Temazepam. I struggled with the cap, the world spinning around me as I worked to separate the white head from it's orange body.
Eventually, it gave in, allowing me to desperately pour a few pills into my hand before quickly shoveling them in my mouth. I gulped, struggling to push them past the desert like walls of my throat. I set the pill bottle back onto the table and reached for a bottle of tequila to wash down the rest. The alcohol raced down my throat even faster than the smoke had, leaving a harsh but satisfying burning sensation throughout my body.
I leaned back against the headboard of my bed, waiting for exhaustion to hit me. The head high hit first, sending me into a psychedelic like trance as my room spun around me. My vision blurred, random shapes dancing across my eyes. A few minutes later, loud ringing filled my head. I shot up, my mind spinning as I searched for my phone.
"Yeah?" I muttered into the speaker, my lips tingling with every breath.
"Where are you?" I know I should've recognized the voice, but I didn't.
"Home." I grumbled back, my words slurring as the alcohol and pills kicked in, making my eyelids feel like lead. I turned off my phone, dropping it on the floor before lying back down. I smiled as my eyes drifted shut, allowing me slide into a comatose like sleep for the first time in days.
***
"XANDER!"
My eyes flew open as someone shook me.
"Oh my God, you're okay!" Arms flew around me as I got pulled upwards, embracing me in a tight hug. I rubbed my eyes, resting my chin on Wyatt's shoulder.
"What are you doing here?" I muttered, pulling away to lean back against my headboard. I grabbed the bottle of tequila, raising it to my lips.
"I called you like ten times last night and when you finally picked up you barely said anything. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay." I glanced up at Wyatt, his blue eyes were red with tears, his sunglasses on top of his head.
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" His eyes widened.
"You don't remember...?" He raised one of his eyebrows.
"Remember what?"
"We were all hanging out at my house, your phone rang and you answered, said like two words, then ran out. You really don't remember...?"
"That still doesn't explain why you're here though." I growled, annoyance laced in my voice as I took another sip.
"I thought something was wrong but I figured you didn't want to talk about it. So I thought I'd ask you in the morning, but when I got here, the door was open and you were passed out. I called your name like five times before you woke up... I was about to call the cops." I rolled my eyes. Wyatt is always so dramatic.
"Well, as you can see, I'm fine. You can go now."
"Are you okay Xan?"
"Yes. I'm perfect. Everything is WONDERFUL. I love being woken up by some pale white boy that's literally so blindingly white that even the KKK would be intimidated." Wyatt sighed and stood up. He looked tired, his bright blonde hair was messy and grey circles seemed to be forming under his eyes.
He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand, twirling his car keys in the other.
"I'm just worried about you, okay?"
"Don't be. I didn't ASK you to be." I snapped back, irritation pulsing through me like a virus. He should know better than to wake up an insomniac.
"Get up. I'm taking you to school." He bent down, picking a shirt up from the ground before throwing it at my face. I took another sip, glaring at him over the bottle.
"I can drive myself."
"Not after you're 'breakfast,'" he put his hands up, making air quotes around the word 'breakfast,' "plus I need gas money and you still owe me for Ashley."
"Who the fuck is Ashley?"
"You know, that girl you hooked up with last night? I introduced you? We played 'have you met Xander'? You said she looked easy-" Wyatt noticed my blank expression, "oh never mind. Just know you fucking owe me."
I sighed, pulling the shirt over my head before chugging the rest of the bottle. I stood up and made my way over to the bathroom, throwing the tequila bottle into the trashcan. Wyatt rolled his eyes as he checked his watch.
Quickly, I pulled on a pair of black pants and slipped into some shoes, grabbing a black sweatshirt off of the counter. After brushing my teeth and running my fingers through my brown hair, I was ready to go. Wyatt walked out the door, jumping over the side of his Aston Martin DB11 Volante that he never shut up about. I don't know much about cars, so to me, the only thing impressive about his $200,000 pile of metal was the speed. I grabbed my backpack and locked up before hopping over the passenger side door.
I handed Wyatt $50 then buckled my seatbelt.
"Let's rock n' roll." He smirked at me before lowering his sunglasses and turning up the music, blasting some array of rap. Then, he shot out of my driveway and down the street, towards our school.
By the time we got to school, I had gotten half way through the bottle of fireball I kept in my backpack.
I glanced at Wyatt. He was running his hands through his golden locks, pulling the corner of his lips up in a sly smirk as he glanced in the rear view mirror. He clenched his jaw, turning his head to the side to examine his jawline.
"Admiring your makeup? You're looking very pretty this morning." I joked, taking one last sip of fireball before shoving the bottle into the bottom of my backpack.
He glanced at me, smiling as he took his keys out of the ignition.
"It takes a lot to be this attractive. Unlike you, I can't just roll out of my bed smelling like someone who asphyxiated on their own vomit."
"Haha, very funny. Wow. You should be a comedian. Maybe then you won't need daddy to pay your bills." I opened the door to his car, throwing my backpack over my shoulder. Wyatt followed suit.
"You know, if you keep talking to me like that-" he threw an arm around my shoulder, "you'll lose the best friend you could ever dream of having." He laughed, lightly socking my arm.
"Get off." I muttered, flicking his wrist. He put his arm down, holding his backpack straps with his hands.
"You know you love me." Wyatt winked at me as he smiled. I was about to respond when his girlfriend interrupted me.
"Hey babe," she smiled. Her name is Allison, but everyone calls her Allie. She stood on her toes, holding one of Wyatt's hands as she stretched her neck to kiss him. "Xan." She nodded at me, acknowledging my presence while wrapping her arm around Wyatt's waist.
"Al." I muttered back, shoving my hands deep into my pockets and pulling my hood over my head. Wyatt and Allie were talking about one of her friends banging a bouncer to get into a club. I rolled my eyes.
We walked through the front doors of the school and over to my locker. Wyatt stood to my left, one hand against a locker, the other on Allie's chin, pulling her face up to his as he placed a kiss on her lips.
"Can you guys go get pregnant somewhere else please?" They both stopped to look at me.
"What crawled up his ass this morning?" Allie asked, making me slam my locker shut.
"Did Wyatt crawl up yours last night?" I retorted, flipping them both off before turning to walk away.
I took about two steps before stumbling over my own foot. Almost instantaneously, I felt strong hands gripping my shoulder, holding me upright. I grabbed onto a locker to stabilize myself.
The world spun as blood pulsed through my head. I glanced at Wyatt, his eyes full of concern as he took his hand off of my arm.
"I'm fine." I muttered, swallowing before pushing past him. I could feel him trailing behind me as I walked towards my chemistry class. He was whispering with Allie, occasionally pausing whenever I turned around. I stumbled to the back of the class, throwing my backpack onto the floor as I slumped down into my seat, placing my feet onto the table in front of me. Wyatt and Allie sat down, their backs to me as they pressed their heads closer together. Wyatt placed a pale hand on her knee, squeezing it lightly.
My lab partner walked through the door, glancing at me as she shuffled over before quickly looking away. She pushed her black glasses up, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
She was clutching onto her chemistry book, holding it tight to her chest. I still don't know what her name is, despite the fact that she's been my lab partner for a few months.
Slowly, she took her backpack off and set it on the floor, sliding into the chair to my left, directly behind Allie.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Our teacher strolled through the door, setting her coffee cup down next to her computer. She had her grey hair tied up into a tight bun, making her small eyes look even more stretched back. Her chin blended into her neck, making her look more spherical than Pac-Man.
"Mr. Granger, glad to see you're finally showing up to class." She looked at me, her brown eyes glaring through the lenses of her thick rimmed glasses.
"Ms. Fairchild," I responded, "glad to see you haven't clogged an artery." Chuckles erupted throughout the classroom. Wyatt and Allie turned around to glance at me, smiles playing on their faces as they laughed along.
"Excuse me?" Ms. Fairchild asked as she waddled over to me.
"Sorry, I forgot that you have trouble hearing. I just said that I'm glad to see that you're alive- I mean here as well." She frowned at me, trying to walk back towards the front of the class. Soon, she began rattling off about some dumb chemistry shit. Wyatt leaned back in his chair and I leaned forward over my desk to whisper in his ear about plans for the weekend. The girl next to me was frantically taking notes, pausing every now and again to push her glasses up.
Allie was chewing gum, blowing bubbles as she texted under the table. In front of her, my friend Randy had his arm draped over his lab partner, twirling her hair in his fingers as he slid his hand up her thigh. Across the classroom, people were making paper airplanes, tossing them around or blowing spit balls at each other. Still, Ms. Fairchild kept going with her lesson, glancing occasionally at the few people actually taking notes.
"Mr. Granger," she started as I finished drawing a dick on the back of Wyatt's neck, "please explain how to do number six."
I set my pen down, leaning back in my chair. My head was still pounding from the fireball I drank earlier, making me feel light headed.
"So for number six, first you read the problem, then you solve it. Botta bing botta boom, there's nothing more to do." I picked up my pen, just to drop it in order to mimic a mic drop.
"This, right here, is why you're failing my class." She said, making kids around me go silent as they began to pay attention.
"Now, you have to ask yourself, am I failing your class? Or are you failing me as a teacher? Don't punish be just because your career burned out and you got stuck teaching." The girl next to me stopped writing, setting her pencil down to glance at me. I winked at her, making her blush profusely before she she quickly looked away.
"One more comment like that and I'll send you to the principal." Ms. Fairchild stated, pulling her pants up and over her bloated stomach.
"One more comment like that and I won't send you to the hospital when you keel over and die from heart failure." I retorted, getting a roar of laughter as my response from the class.
"Out. Now!" She yelled, furiously scribbling some shit onto a piece of paper. I sighed, taking my feet off of my desk and slinging my backpack over one shoulder. I waved at Wyatt and Allie, sending my lab partner a wink and a smirk as I strolled towards the front of the class. I turned towards the rest of the students, bowing as I snatched the pink slip from my teacher. People clapped as I walked out, heading towards the principal's office for yet another sure detention. God, I live for shit like this.
***
"Back so soon, Xan?" Alyvia, the office aid, asked as I strolled through the double doors. She was in her early twenties, her face long and slim much like her legs. She wore a white blouse that was a little too tight around her chest. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands of it falling out around the sides, making her blue eyes pop.
I smirked at her as I walked past her, winking. She rolled her eyes, a smile forming on her red lips. She stood up, turning towards the principal's door. I sat down in one of the shitty plastic chairs that lined the wall in front her desk, setting my backpack on the floor as I pulled out my phone.
The screen lit up with notifications, most of which were from girls. I scrolled past them, clicking on one from Wyatt.
'How's Alyvia ;)' it read.
'Perky as ever' I replied, smirking to myself.
Wyatt started typing but before I could see what he said, an annoyed voice echoed through the small office.
"Mr. Granger, what brings you here this time?" I glanced up, grabbing my backpack before rising to my feet.
"Oh you know, the usual." I muttered back, walking past Alyvia and Mr. Smith, my principal. He closed the door to his office behind me, sighing as he walked around to his desk.
"This is the third time I've seen you in the past two days," he started, "one could say that you're trying to get sent here."
I grinned at him. "What can I say? Seeing you is the highlight of my day."
"Look, I know you're a bright kid, but this is unacceptable." He pulled a folder out of the desk, opened it, and began to flip through it.
"Talking back in class, disrespecting staff members? Vandalizing the school and pranking your classmates? What happened Alexander? You were a straight A student until this semester. Is everything okay at home?" He folded his hands on his desk, staring at me expectantly.
"Yeah." I muttered back, leaning against the wall as I crossed my arms. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. Unfortunately for him, I had nothing left to say.
"Okay," his voice dropped, "I tried being nice to you, I tried to help you, but if you're not going to help yourself then there's nothing I can do. I'm giving you until the end of the semester to get your grades up, and if you don't, I'm afraid there's nothing more this school can do for you."
"You're threatening to expel me?" I asked, trying to hide the excitement in my voice.
"Yes. Yes I am."
"Okay." A smile creeped onto my face.
"Is this funny to you, Mr. Granger?" He sounded disappointed.
"No, of course not." He sat in silence for a moment, his forehead wrinkling in thought.
"Okay, new plan. If you don't get your grades up, I'm going to hold you back and make you redo your senior year. You won't graduate with your friends, you won't get your diploma, and you'll have to retake all of your current classes."
With that, I turned and walked out of the office, slamming the door on my way out.
"Everything okay Xan?" Alyvia asked as I stormed past her. I ignored her and started to walk towards the parking lot.
I ran into Wyatt on my way out.
"Yo, you hitting Sam's party tonight?" He called after me when I passed him.
"Yeah, pick me up on your way?"
"Of course."
***
The rest of the day went by in a blur, although that's probably because I was drunk off my ass for the remainder of it.
By the time we rolled up to Sam's house, the party was in full swing. Sam was a girl in my English class. She was insanely hyper and even crazier in the sheets.
When we walked through the door, the smell of weed wafted up my nose. I smiled slightly to myself.
"I'm going to get a drink!" I yelled to Wyatt over the blaring music.
He nodded at me, walking towards Allie, who was sitting on a couch, hunched over the table as she snorted a line of coke. I rolled my eyes and headed towards the kitchen.
"Yo Xan," my friend Bobby yelled as I walked towards the fridge, "wingman me?" I grabbed a bottle of vodka, cracking the seal before going over to him.
"Sure bro. Who're you looking at?" I raised the bottle to my lips as he pointed a girl out. She had long brown hair flowing down to her elbows, her fingers typing frantically on her phone.
"I've been trying to talk to her all night, but every time I go over there, she just nods at me and goes back on her phone."
I patted Bobby on the shoulder.
"Maybe she's just not interested?" He frowned at me.
"Her? Not interested? In all of this?" He gestured to himself, a joking smile on his face.
Bobby was about 6 foot, his shaggy blonde hair matching perfectly with his bright blue eyes and surfer build.
I rolled my eyes at him before heading over to her.
"You know," I started, nudging her shoulder with my own, "usually when people go to parties, they don't spend the whole time surgically attached to their phone."
The girl glanced at me, her dark brown eyes staring into my grey ones.
"Guess I'm not most people then. You know, most guys would see a girl on their phone and think, oh shit, she must not want to talk. But no, not you. Guess you're just more autistic than the rest." She retorted, looking back down at her phone.
I frowned, pouring more vodka down my throat. I changed the subject.
"Texting a boyfriend?" She shook her head.
"An ex?" Again, she shook her head.
"Parents? Friends?"
"No."
"Who is it then?"
She sighed, turning her phone off before shoving it in her pocket.
"What will it take for you to leave me alone?" She crossed her arms.
"Talk to my friend over there." I waved the bottle towards Bobby, who was hiding behind some random guy. He peaked out from the guys shoulder, adjusted his shirt, then smiled at the girl.
"Fine." She mumbled, sighing in defeat as she walked over to him. He shot me a cheeky smile and I nodded back. The girl glanced at me as I took another sip. A very long sip.
Her eyes widened slightly as I chugged the remainder of the bottle. I looked at the empty glass, shrugging my shoulders and throwing it behind me. It landed with a thud in the cooler of empty cans.
I swayed over towards the doors, unable to walk in a straight line. Soon I found myself sitting next to Wyatt and Allie, watching as Wyatt finished off a blunt. Allie was leaning against his shoulder, her hand rested on his chest. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
After a few minutes, the cig was down to its end.
"Hey Xan, what are the odds you put this out on your arm?"
"You just love seeing me in pain, don't you Al?" I grabbed the cigarette bud from her hand, rolling up my own sleeve before pressing it deep into my forearm. Wyatt and Allie looked at me with wide eyes as a small line of smoke began to rise from my skin. Heat rushed through my body as the burn began to sizzle. I clenched my fist.
"Holy shit Xander, I didn't think you'd actually do it." She sat up, grabbing my arm to look at my now curling skin.
Needless to say, my arm was bright red. A circle of burned ash standing out prominently against my smooth skin.
"Dude, go clean that shit out." Wyatt had a look of concern on his face as he leaned over Allie's shoulder to inspect my arm.
"It's fine." I muttered back, opening the bag of molly that Sam kept in her drawer for parties. I popped two pills, washing them down with a half empty bottle of moonshine.
"You're fucking insane dude." I glanced over my shoulder to look at whoever spoke. Bobby was behind me. He slid into the spot to my left, a red solo cup in his hand.
"Where's that girl?" I asked, changing the subject from my questionable mental state.
"Fuck if I know man, we talked for like two minutes before she made up some bullshit excuse and left."
"Aw, sorry dude."
He shrugged.
"It's chill, just had a quicky with Erika in the bathroom anyways." Erika was Bobby's ex. Well kind of ex. I'm not really sure since their relationship status is constantly changing.
"Sick."
Bobby nodded, taking a sip from his cup.
By now, both the drugs and the alcohol had started to kick in, putting me in a state of pure ecstasy. My head spun as shapes raced across my vision, making my head feel heavy. I stood up, struggling to keep my balance as I made my way to the bathroom.
The hallway was packed with people and I had to shove some poor guy into a wall to even take a step.
After what seemed like forever, I found my way to the bathroom door, which of course, was locked.
"Fuck." I muttered, turning to return to the couch.
"That bottle of vodka finally kick in?" The girl from before was leaning against the bottom of the stairway, her arm propped up on the banister.
"Seems like it. Well that, or the drugs."
She shook her head at me.
"Mixing shit isn't the best idea."
"Thanks mom." She glared at me and I turned to walk away, only to trip over someone's foot which sent me crashing to the floor. My arms shook as I pushed myself up, leaning against the banister for support.
"You should go home. Do you have a ride?"
"I'm fine." I snapped back, struggling to my feet only to fall back down again.
"You're clearly not." She grabbed my arm, wrapping it around her shoulder before pulling me to my feet. My head fell onto hers, her hair smelling like strawberry shampoo.
"You're really gone, aren't you?" She laughed a little as she said this, adjusting my arm so that her shoulder wasn't stabbing my armpit.
"Only a little." I muttered back, my words sluring.
"Who's your ride?"
I motioned over towards Wyatt, who was now in the center of a circle of guys, all of who were chanting "chug!" over and over as he popped a bottle of henny and brought it to his lips.
"Oh boy." She gripped my wrist tighter, making me flinch as her soft hand touched my burn.
She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't say anything.
"Come on, I'll take you home." With that, she led me out of the house, opening the passenger side door of her white Volkswagen bug.
I slumped into the seat.
When I finally gained the ability to type, I put my address into her phone and before I knew it, I felt my eyes close and I passed out.