Everyone at this fucking school is obsessed with motherfucking prom.
“No problem, Mr. Matthews.”
“If you need anything at all, Miss Larsen.” He squares me with a firm but not unkind stare. “Please let me know. I take my job of creating a positive environment for all students here very seriously. It’s not easy moving to a new school for the final semester. We want to make sure you end high school on a high note.”
I nearly scoff. No one—and I mean no one—has ever given a shit how I feel about high school. I would have dropped out ages ago if it wasn’t for Tommy.
“Thanks, Mr. Matthews,” I say as I nod and start backing towards the doors.
When he doesn’t say anything else, I spin and make my way towards the exit. My hands reach out to push the door open, but for a second, I turn back. I expect the principal to be watching me with distrust, just one more person waiting for me to fuck up. But he’s already walking away as he whistles some stupid song, his back turned to me.Maybe this high school could be different after all.Crossing the threshold of the large front doors of the building, I’m immediatelyhit with a blast of icy cold air.
“Sunnyvale, my ass,” I grumble as I pull my coat tightly around me to ward off the frigid breeze.
My combat boots splash through the dirty slush on the sidewalk, and melting snow mixed with mud cakes the sides of my favorite shoes. It’s official, I hate it here.
Just as I’m scheming up a plan to break up Steve and my mom, the sound of an engine rumbles on the road behind me. I don’t turn around, hoping it’ll just drive on by without splashing shit all over me.
But it doesn’t, the low rumble seems to follow me down the street. I quicken my pace, eager to put space between myself and whoever’s behind me, but as I do, I hear the engine kick up. It revs, the noise echoing through the empty street. Shit.
I turn just in time to see the bright light of a motorcycle heading straight for me. I can’t make out the rider but it doesn’t matter, I don’t know anyone with a motorcycle. I turn and bolt. My messenger bag hits my thighs roughly, but I keep going, pumping my legs and pleading with the sky deity, which I don’t truly believe in, to let this asshole pass and leave me alone.
But they don’t.
The engine roars as they pursue me, cutting me off as I’m about to cross a street. The bike blocks my path and I come to a skittering stop.
“What the fuck you running from, baby?” the rider goads as they slip off their helmet, revealing their bright blue hair.
It’s the same girl I saw in the hall earlier, with blue hair, a facecovered in piercings, and the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s wearing skin tight leather and looks like some kind of biker goddess. Heat rises in my cheeks.
“You, I suppose,” I quip back, trying to sound cocky despite the way I’m still trying to catch my breath. “You were chasing me after all.”
“It’s not every day a pretty new thing wanders into Sunnyvale.” She smirks, revealing pearly white teeth. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and I catch a glimpse of the silver bar in her tongue.Shit, this girl is my favorite type of trouble. “I’d be a fool not to chase down an ass like that.”
“I’m Jessica,” I say, offering my outstretched hand. She looks at it for a minute and smirks.
Fuck. A handshake? What am I—Steve?
After a beat, she takes my hand and shakes it though. Her fingers are soft and warm in mine. “Trish,” she replies.
“You smoke, newbie?” she asks as I let my hand fall back to my side. “I just picked up something new from my dealer, he said it’s supposed to be pretty potent.”
I can’t help but let the corners of my mouth tip up in a smile. “I probably have time for a hit or two.”
Hopping on a motorcycle with a near stranger who promises you drugs, what could possibly go wrong?
“Climb on. I could use a pretty little backpack to keep me warm.” She offers me her hand and helps guide me into the leather seat of the motorcycle behind her. The low vibrations of the engine betweenmy thighs are a new, and not entirely unpleasant, sensation. “You’re gonna wanna hold on tight, sweetheart,” she says before putting her helmet back on.
She revs the engine, and I throw my hands around her waist just in time. We shoot off, the kick throwing my upper body backwards. I quickly right myself, leaning back down and pressing my front to her back. The wind whips through my hair, making my eyes water, but I don’t really mind. We pick up speed, cruising down the empty streets, and I swear it almost feels like I’m flying.
Day one and I’m on the back of a bike with a beautiful girl who’s going to take me to go get high. Maybe Sunnyvale isn’t so bad after all.
Eventually, she begins to slow to almost a crawl. We’re in a different part of town now, I notice. One where the fences are falling down and the paint is chipped from the siding. Mobile homes and double wides with laundry lines strung from the side make up most of the houses here. Broken down cars sit on cinder blocks in driveways. It’s clearly the sad side of suburbia.
She cuts off the engine, kicking out the stand and sliding the helmet over her head once we reach a run-down looking little house with faded white siding and a sad looking yard.
“It’s not much.” She shrugs and I can see her shoulders tense slightly. “But my stepdad won’t be back for a couple hours, so it’s just us.”
She slides out of the seat, coming to stand next to me, and holding out her hand. The black polish on her nails is chipped.
