Rule #17: Take Drugs
The more unnecessary they are, the better.
- () -
Going home was anti-climatic.
Instead of loud lectures or red face, the only thing to greet me when I entered the house was snoring relatives and empty beer cans. That's to be expected, I suppose, considering it's seven o'clock in the morning. Since everybody is asleep, I don't need to worry about racist grandmothers or slut-shaming cousins.
Speaking of which - I spot Bettie fast asleep on my blankets, drooling on my pillow. Since she goes to an expensive private school, Bettie doesn't have to go back to school until January. It also means that she'll be hogging my bed for the next weeks.
She mumbles something under her breath. I would listen in but I don't really care about Bettie's dreams.
So, without sparing her another glance, I enter my bathroom to get ready for school.
With heavy limbs, I change into my classic leather jacket and boots. The clothes Irene bought when she visited lie forgotten in the corner. I spare a glance in the mirror.
Dark bags under my eyes. Red nose. Pale skin. Not exactly the ideal way to wake up. That, added to the fact that I slept in a treehouse last night, makes it safe that I've come down with a cold.
I cough into my arm.
Usually, I would take my distress as an opportunity to ditch school and stay at home. However, considering the fact that both my grandmother and my cousins are at home, relaxing would be the last thing I would be doing if I stayed here.
With that in mind, I layer my face with makeup until I look relatively normal. No amount of concealer can hide my bloodshot eyes, so I slip on a pair of dark sunglasses before grabbing my headphones and going downstairs.
Just before I reach the front door, a blur of blue and yellow slams into me. It's Melody. Her force nearly knocks the sunglasses off my nose.
Melody wraps me into her tight hug, her arms wrapping around my waist in a way that's almost painful. With my muddled mind and weak arms, I don't have the strength - or will - to push her away.
Instead, I settle for a scowl and a "What the hell are you doing?"
"What you did last night was awesome. I totally would have recorded it if it weren't for the fact that mom took our phones before dinner. That's okay though. The whole thing is engraved inside of my brain," Melody nuzzles my shoulder, causing shivers to run down my spine. "I'm just going to replay that moment every time grandmother says how being gay is a sin."
I stare at the ceiling, dizzy. "Since when did you care so much about what grandmother said?"
"Since I became politically aware of the world outside our own."
I have no idea what that means. Maybe it's because I'm sick. Maybe it's because it's Melody talking. Either way, we're going to be late for school. I'm about to tell her to get lost when somebody knocks on the door.
The loud rapping sound feels like it's pounding into my brain.
I wince.
Melody swings the door. "Hey, Archer - whoa, you look horrible!"
And indeed he does. It seems like I'm not the only one effected by last night. Archer has similar bloodshot eyes and slumped shoulders as me.
"Rough night?" I question.
"Couldn't sleep. But I had some good company."
My lips curve up, just a little. I step outside, then immediately regret. The chill from last night has retreated. The sunshine outside blinds me, even with the sunglasses on. I shield my face with my hand.
"Is it always this bright outside?"
"What are you talking about? It's cloudy outside," Archer leans closer to me. Even though I'm wearing sunglasses, his eyes bore into mine. "Are you sick?"
"No," I protest. "I have a concussion, remember?"
He pinches my icy-cold nose, causing me to jump. "Hey!"
"You're sick," Archer confirms, watching me attempt to regain my balance. "Really sick. Why aren't you in bed? You need to stay home and rest."
"If I stay home, the last thing I'll be doing is resting."
"It's true," Melody inputs. "Grandmother's on the warpath. She kept ranting that if mom wasn't going to send Peyton to a correction facility or a juvenile center, she was going to disown the entire family. Man, I should have recorded that too..."
"Yeah, see?" I fold my arms. "She's going to send me to a correction facility, Archer. You want me to go to a correction facility?"
"I want you to go to a doctor."
I try to roll my eyes, but the attempt just makes me dizzy. "I'm not in the mood to a month's worth of paychecks so a doctor can tell me that I need to take a pill."
"Did you take a pill?"
I say nothing.
"Peyton hates taking medication," Melody explains. I swat her on the shoulder to make her shut up, but she ignores me. "For some reason, it makes her act strange. I remember the last time she had the flu and took some pills. It was really funny -"
" - shut up, Melody - "
" - she started crying -"
" - there was a cute dog nearby -"
" - actually I think I have a video -"
"- do not show him that video -"
"Peyton?" Mom's voice comes from indoors. "Is that you?"
Melody and I share identical looks of horror. I push Archer towards his car, ignoring his protests for me to go back home and rest. We finally make a deal that I'll go to the nurse's office as soon as I go to school.
Joke's on him.
I don't even know where the nurse's office is.
- () -
Going through the first half of school while sick makes me feel like I'm dying, little by little. But even that is nothing compared to the horror that is gym class.
Today, we've gone outside to play volleyball.
The sun's rays are hot and bright. Not only does the light make my headache worse, but the leather jacket I've opted to wear to day intensifies the heat, making me feel like a pig being barbecued. Combined with my sore throat and stuffy nose, it's a miracle that I'm able to stand, less alone play volleyball.
Archer gives me knowing looks from his spot besides the coach. He and Sebastian have been assigned as referees for today's matches.
I ignore him.
There is no way I'm going to take any form of medication in school, not in front of so many people. No matter what, I always manage to humiliate myself when I take pills or any other form of drugs.
Although, it's not like I'm faring well right now.
Derek's on the opposite team and has no qualms using my distressed state to his advantage. While I'm trying not to throw up or squinting in the sunlight, he slams a volleyball across the net, hitting my head. My team consists of people too busy chatting in the background to pay attention to what goes on between us.
It isn't until the third time I get hit I give up trying to fight back.
My sunglasses slip off as Derek slams the volleyball into the left side of my face. They make a soft crunch when I land on top of them. I roll over on my stomach and pick them up. My sunglasses have cracked in the middle, completely useless.
I sigh and collapse on the dying yellow grass. Maybe if I play dead, I won't have to play again.
A shadow falls over me. From the burly silhouette, I know it's Sebastian before he even announces himself.
"You okay?" He holds out his hand.
"Perfectly fine," I mumble and use his grip to push myself off the ground.
The place where I got hit throbs, a consistent ache on the left side of my face. It's as if the texture of the volleyball is imprinted on my skin. By the way Derek smirks at me, I feel like it has. I press my palm to the left side of my face.
A tiny part of me is angry and wants to confront Derek. The rest of me, the part that got hit by a volleyball three times in a row, is exhausted and wants to hide in the library, where it's quiet and has air-conditioning.
"Ready for another match, Monroe?" Derek taunts, tossing the volleyball between his hands.
Before I can reply, Coach Watson calls my name. "Peyton! Come here for a second."
I drag my feet over to the coach, where Sebastian and Archer stand. Archer's too busy in an argument with one of the teams so he barely notices me. "Yeah, coach?"
"Sebastian tells me you have a concussion. Is that true?"
"Yeah."
"And that you're sick."
"Yeah." I try to look as pathetic as I can. Maybe he'll let me go inside and rest.
"Alright, I'll give you a pass to go to nurse's office."
Damn it. I try to backtrack. "Well, I'm not that sick. Besides I don't even know where the nurse's office is."
"Sebastian, can you take her there?"
He nods. I look up to see his expression. Unsurprisingly, there is none. So we walk back towards the main building. I focus on my black boots, so that I don't trip over my own feet. As we're leaving, Derek throws one last volleyball at my back.
"Can't take the heat, Monroe?"
I grab the volleyball - "take this, asshole" - and throw it back. But I end up doing something wrong and it lands two feet in front of me instead.
"Aw." I say.
"Here," Sebastian grabs the volleyball and slams into Derek's chest so hard that he falls over, just like I did. My mouth drops open, but Sebastian just takes my hand and tugs me inside.
"Sebastian, you're my new hero."
"No thanks."
We enter the school.
A fresh wave of cold air washes over me as we enter the school. I silently close my eyes, welcoming the air conditioning, until my body starts to get too cold. By the time we reach the nurse's office, I'm shivering. She tells me some things that I tune out, but then I jerk when she hands me a pill and some water.
"...for your cold. You really shouldn't have come to school today."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." I swallow the pills.
It only takes a few minutes for the effects to take place. My nose isn't as stuffy anymore and my limbs aren't as heavy. In fact, everything inside me feels lighter and warmer. My mood improves and my head feels like a balloon. I feel like it could float off any second, leaving the rest of my body behind.
I decide to ditch my last period and go to the library.
Sebastian's following me. "Why are you following me?"
"Bored."
"Oh, okay," So we go to the library together. Just when we're outside the doors, I stop him. "We have to be sneaky about this. I'm banned from the library."
"Why are you banned from the library?"
"I stapled somebody's hand to the front desk."
"Oh."
I put my finger on my lips to tell him to be quiet. I can't remember which finger you use to show that, so I just use all four of them.
We crawl to the nonfiction section - or at least, I crawl while Sebastian follows on foot since he's allowed in the library - until we find the national geographic magazines. I flip through some of the pages and tell Sebastian about some of the animals that appear on each one.
"Look," I point to a red Jamaican crab. "It's you!"
He glances at the crab. "What?"
"It's Sebastian. From the little mermaid!"
He stares at me for a second. "I'm leaving now."
"Aw, why?"
He doesn't answer. He only leaves.
And then, I'm all alone.
For some reason, this makes me very sad. Then, the school bell rings and I brighten up. Now I can meet Archer at my locker after school.
Humming a song from Zootopia, I march towards my locker to meet Archer, Julia and Melody. I unlock it with my combination, then stare inside for a few minutes, wondering why I opened it. I glance around at its contents - my unopened textbook, my uneaten lunch, my unused baseball bat which I keep for self-defense...
Inspiration strikes me.
I grab the baseball hat and turn around, on a mission.
Archer, who's finally arrived, stops me by grabbing the back of my jacket. I slap his hand away and say, "Back off. This is fake leather."
"I see you went to the nurse's office." He says, pinching my nose again.
"Why do you that?"
"Do what?"
I pinch his nose. "Do this."
"I'm just checking if it's cold or not. If it's cold, it means you're sick." He pinches my nose again.
I pinch his nose again.
"Speaking of noses, I'm going to bash Derek's in," I wiggle the baseball bat for emphasis. "I'm going to beat him up so hard he'll gag on his own blood. Do you want join me? I think we would be great partners."
We stare into each other's eyes for a moment.
"Sure, can I have the baseball bat? I want to go first."
"Okay." I hand him the baseball bat. "So, where do you think Derek is?"
"Probably hanging out inside my car," Archer says and pushes me gently on my lower back so that he's leading me towards the front doors. The places where he touches me feels tingly.
"Why would Derek be inside your car?"
"Hey Archer," Melody falls into step next to us. "What's up? I hear Peyton got drugged."
"We're on a mission," I tell her. "Break Derek's Nose - Part Two."
"You are drugged," Melody is delighted. She holds up her phone and starts recording me. "Okay, so let's pretending we're video-calling grandmother. Is there something you'd like to say to her? Something having to do with the words 'old' and 'hag'?"
I blink. "How could we be face-timing grandmother? There's no cell reception in hell."
Archer and Melody snort at the same time.
"Isn't she great when she's drugged?" Melody asks Archer.
I want to look at his face, but he's behind me, his hands on my shoulders, nudging me towards the front. If only I was an owl and could rotate my head 360 degrees.
"Delete that video, Melody," Archer tells her.
"No way. Oh wait, I came here to tell you guys something. Julia and I aren't going on a ride with you two today. Â We're getting a ride from my friend, Raquel."
"How old is Raquel?"
"Sixteen. Perfectly eligible to drive."
"I'm seventeen," I input.
"We know, Peyton."
"Alright," Archer sighs. "Tell Julia that she has to be home before four o'clock today."
"I will. See you later, Peyton."
"Farewell, Melody."
We reach Archer's car. The bright red color hurts my eyes so I shield them with my hands. Archer opens the door and guides me inside. Since I can't see, my head slams into the top of the car. Both of us curse at the same time.
"At this rate, I'll never get rid of my concussion," I joke, still covering my eyes.
Then, I realize I'm inside the car alone and nobody can hear me.
Archer enters his seat a second later. "You okay?"
I nod.
He starts the car. The faint hum of the engine calms my headache enough that I can drop my hands. The days are getting shorter, so the sun is already setting in the horizon. I look over at Archer, marveling at how pretty he looks in the dying light.
My face is getting hot and I don't know why.
Now that nothing in my body hurts anymore, I'm compelled to talk. "Since we're friends now, I'm going to tell you why my family hates me."
"What?"
"It's because they think I'm a slut."
Archer doesn't respond. After a few seconds, he glances at me. "Is that it?"
"Yes."
"Why do they think you're a slut?"
"Ask Bettie. She knows the whole story. About Gwen and Xavier and the swim team initiation."
I watch the rays of light dance through the strands of his dark hair, turning it from a dark brown to a shimmering gold in just a few seconds.
"There's a story?"
"Yes. I told it to Bettie over text. And then she called me a slut," I turn my head away. "And that's why I hate her. And that's why I'm not going home. I'm going to go sleep in the treehouse again."
Archer parks his car in the driveway and turns of the engine. "No more sleeping in the treehouse."
"Then, how about your house?"
Archer turns towards me. "My house?"
"Yeah," I lean closer and whisper. "We can hug."
Archer smiles. "We don't need to go to my house to do that."
He unbuckles his seat belt and wraps his arms around me. If possible, I'm even more light-headed now. In order to keep my head from floating off like a balloon, I bury in the crook of his neck and wrap my arms around his shoulders.
"Melody's right," Archer murmurs into my hair. "You are great when you're drugged."
- () -
Hooray for light-hearted chapters! I figured we needed one since the next chapter is going to pretty intense. We're finally going to see what happened with Susan Smith (the creepy guy in Chapter 15) and the pit bull he adopted, Harper.
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This chapter's dedication goes to hotgyolbling, d_harshi, and Jeneice2004. You guys are awesome!
Thanks for reading!
QotC:Â On a scale of 1-10, how much do you like Peyton?