It's the first day of my senior year. I'm so close to leaving this shithole, I can feel it flowing through my veins. The last day, June 7th, is the only thing keeping me from running now. Once I graduate, I'm off to culinary school. I've been waiting three years to get out of the drungy place that is Philadelphia. The few good things about living in Philly are the cheesesteaks and the sports.
Why do I want to leave? Because my life has become a living hell since my daddy died three years ago. He was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and it had spread to his brain, making it completely impossible to fix him. But he said to me that he was ready to go. He was only 45.
My mother didn't take it too well. She spiraled down so fast, by the time I noticed, it was too late. She got addicted to pain meds and heroine. She would stick herself with that poison right in front of me. I would always tell her to quit it, she was gonna kill herself. She would spit words back at me, saying that she didn't give a fuck and that it made her feel good. And then she would bitch slap me. That's when she became abusive.
My mother, or Brenda as I call her, hit me every time she would put the needle in her arms, which was probably just about every other day. I'd have to come into school with huge ass bruises all over my body. I would change in the bathroom for gym. I couldn't stand the constant questions. Luckily, only one person told the guidance counselor. After my mother plastered on the biggest smile and told the social services lady it was all a big mistake, I had gotten the most horrible beating I've ever received from Brenda. She was furious and she hit me vigoursly, not stopping til her arms got tired. Never again did I let that happen.
As I recall these horrible memories, I almost run over some skater driving into the lot. I honk for him to get out of the way and he flips me off shouting, "Watch where you're going bitch!"
I honked again, making sure to flip him off as well. I slid into my spot, rolled up the windows and ran to class to make sure I wasn't late.
I jogged through the door just as the bell rang and took the only seat left in my calculus class. I was stuck behind Joe, the fart master. 'This is going to be a long day.'
The hours drudged by oh so very slowly and I thanked the heavens when I had finished my final period before tech. (a/n: tech is a real thing; it's a technical program for kids who want to take a step in their careers early).
I closed my locker, plugged in my headphones and jammed out to Queen while I waited for the bus. For it being so close to autumn, it was still quite hot out and thanked my morning self for throwing on my ramones tank and some denim shorts.
The bus pulled up, late, as usual, and again I was pushed to the back of the pack. 'There goes getting a good seat' I thought to myself as I climbed on last. The only seat left was in the back, next to the god awful skater guy I almost ran over this morning. I inwardly groaned and kindly said, "Mind if I sit here?"
He looked up, the light bulb went off and he smirked an evil grin and spoke slowly, "Suuuure."
Against every fiber of my being, I sat down, as close to the edge as I could and turned my music up all the way.
The start of the bus ride started off without a hitch. I lip sank to every song that came in my classic rock radio on pandora and head bopped to the bass. Halfway through the ride, while I was air drumming to Fat Bottomed Girls, he tapped me on the shoulder. I reluctantly pulled out an earplug and turned down my music some.
"Yes, can I help you?" I asked.
"Yes, you can."
"Wiitthhh?" I asked without patience.
"Do you mind turning down your girly pop music, it's quite loud." Cute, he thinks I'm listening to pop.
"Umm, excuse you, my music isn't girly pop shit, it's my wicked rock music, so no."
"You listen to rock?"
"Yes, I do." I stated, motioning to my tank top.
"Dude, whole new level of respect."
"Thanks dude." Thinking it was the end of the conversation, I reinserted my earplug, rocking out to The Ramones. He tapped me on the shoulder, again.
"Yes?" I said, slightly annoyed that he was interrupting a masterpiece.
"Can I listen?"
"Umm, no, I don't even know your name."
"Jake." He stuck out his hand.
I took it and said, "Jessabelle, call me Jesse."
"Alright, now babe, can I listen?"
"Sure, but don't call me 'babe'. I'm not your 'babe'."
I scoffed and brushed off the comment. 'Like I'd ever be his babe.'
The bus arrived at the school and I put everything in my bag and walked in the school. I don't eat lunch here anymore, so I walk past it towards shop. I feel an arm snake around my shoulders and turn to see none other than Jake.
"What are you doing?" I hissed at him.
"Walking to shop, which shop are you ?"
"Culinary Arts, what are you in, Diesel Tech or Automotive Repair?"
"Hah, neither, I'm in culinary as well. This is going to be fun."