Six in the morning, the next Monday, I sat up in bed, sullenly wondering the fate that would await me.

“Elena?” I heard James call out. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah…” I called back, my voice already weary. “Just getting ready.”

I pulled on a pair of baggy, torn-up blue jeans, black skull-and-crossbones T-shirt, and a stained gray zip-up  hoodie that used to belong to my dad. I tied up my shoes, brushed out my choppy, self-cut blonde waves, and did my makeup as outrageously as I could, because that’s what my mom hated the most.

“Morning.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and sat down at the kitchen table, my walkman in hand.

“Toast?” My mom offered me a butter-soggy bit of toast with a side of yellowish orange juice.

“No, thanks.”

“I like your… makeup.” So, she was being passive-aggressive, first thing in the morning?

“Thanks!” I smiled bitterly, smudging my eyeliner the slightest bit more.

James shot us both a look, signalling that we had to stop it if either one of us wanted to have a good day. But then, he said, “I’m off to work. Wish me luck!”

“Luck!” We both called, then instantly turned back to each other with a glare.

My mom’s face fell suddenly. “Can you please put on a different hoodie, Elena?”

“Oh.”

“Please. Now.”

“I was thinkin’ it would be good luck to wear this on my first day, though. You know I love this hoodie-”

“Take it off, please.”

“No, thanks.” Then, to not seem too mean, I added, “I know you don’t like it, but I do. ‘Cause it’s a hella nice hoodie, even if… You know. Sorry.”

She crossed her arms, her eyes burning. “Fine. You should probably go. I know you’re a slow walker… Do you know the route?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I stood up, tightening the straps of my backpack. “Bye.”

I put an Alice In Chains cassette in my walkman, and rushed out the door, remembering the streets and turns to get to the big, sad brick building.

The dewy September morning air hit my skin, and without that cursed hoodie, I would’ve been freezing.

Under my breath, I sang along to Them Bones, rocking my head along, as I followed the sidewalks, turning left, right, left, right…

Before the end of the album, I got to school. Kids poured out of the school bus, jocks leaned against their cars with their cheerleader girlfriends attached at the hip. The parking lot looked like the average scene of any 80’s coming-of-age movie.

I mouthed along to Rooster, walking into the school like I’d been there a thousand times before. I got a couple looks, but no one seemed to notice me. I don’t know what I was expecting.

I found my locker, the bell rang. Everything went smoothly. I sat back in my classes and didn’t focus much on the work, but I didn’t slack off.

Noon, shit. The dreaded lunch hour. Fifty minutes of hell, cafeteria noise, garbage, stupid plastic tables.

I pulled out my bagged lunch, sat down at the first table I saw that wasn’t full, or inhabited by a clique.

At this table, two guys in pastel polos sat, discussing something in a low voice. A black-haired girl sat one chair away from them in silence, poking at her food. I ate my sandwich, ignoring them, until another guy sat down across from the black-haired girl, and asked, “Who the hell is she?”

The girl shrugged. “Dunno. You could, like, ask her. Or something.” She glanced my way. She knew very well I could hear both of them.

I stared at the guy, dead in the eyes, and said, “Layne. And you are?”

“Jesse…” He looked pensive for a second. “I used to know a guy called Layne. Ain’t it a guy’s name?”

“Ain’t Jesse a girl’s name?” I raised my eyebrows, trying not to laugh.

“It’s unisex.”

I rolled my eyes. “Layne’s a nickname. My real name’s Elena.”

“Ah, alright.”

“Nice to meet you,” the black-haired girl said to me. “I’m Erica.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, too.”

These people seemed friendly enough. Kind of bland, but friendly. I didn’t hate them, yet.

“D’you guys like music at all?” I asked Jesse and Erica. “I love music.”

“You betcha.” Erica smiled. “Big Bob Dylan fan right here.”

Jesse shrugged. “I like a lotta stuff. Classic rock. Some newer stuff. I dunno.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool…”

And, just like that, I had a fifty minute conversation with a couple of strangers. It could’ve been a lot worse, I guess.

By three in the afternoon, my first day of school had been what one could call average. I noticed Erica in a couple of my classes, she said hi every time. Polite. Friendly. She didn’t seem too stuck-up, either, and she didn’t seem to be some jock’s girlfriend or a cheerleader or anything. 

I walked home, singing along to my music. When I got home, the door was unlocked, and my mom was home, seated on the couch, searching for jobs in the paper. 

“How was school, honey?” She asked, without looking up.

“It was fine,” I replied blandly.

“That’s lovely.”

“I think I’m gonna go out. Look around. Do something, I don’t know.” I sighed, my heart sinking a little bit.

“Did you meet any new friends?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, well, okay. See you later. Don’t be late, please…” She must’ve been pretty distracted, since she didn’t enforce my curfew with a shrill yell.

I dropped my backpack on my bed, grabbed my purse, and left again, Pretty On The Inside screaming in my ears. 

I wandered downtown. I was hoping to find a record shop or something, some kind of place that felt more like home. I found nothing of interest, anywhere.

I found a pay phone, slid some quarters in, and dialed Kelly’s number. Her dad answered, “Hello?”

“Is Kelly there?” I asked, forcing myself to sound phong and polite. I hated Kelly’s dad- who didn’t?

“Sorry, but who’s this?”

“Friend of hers. She home yet?”

“Not yet. Who is this?”

“It’s me, Elena.”

He hung up. I was sure anyone else would do the same. My mom would be mortified if she knew I had tried to talk to Kelly, but it didn’t matter. She would be mortified if she knew I had talked to anyone from my old school, though.

I decided to make another call. Surprisingly, he answered. “Hey?”

“Hey, Speed,” I said. “D’you think you can drive over here?”

“Layne? What the fuck?”

“Yeah. Pleasant Grove. Think you can?”

“I dunno. Why? I thought Wendy would lock you up for life! What’s she think about you callin’ me, anyway?”

“She don’t know about it- I’m at a pay phone.” I paused, then continued: “I’m bored. There’s no one cool in this fuckin’ place. Do you think you can stop by? Please.”

“Is it really lame there? Man, that sucks. How long do ya think the drive is? I might be able to make it.”

“Not sure. Maybe an hour…? Give or take a bit. I dunno.” I sighed. “This entire place sucks. I have no friends, and everyone is a loser.”

“Okay. Gimme an address, I’ll be there. Promise.”

My heartbeat instantly spiked, and I smiled. “Uh, well, you can’t show up at my place… There’s a park downtown…” I glanced over at the big green sign that said, in slender, arching white letters: Pleasant Grove Community Park. I continued, “Pleasant Grove Community Park. Can ya meet me right by the gate? It’s got a big green sign, you can’t miss it.”

“Right on my way now. You got cash?”

“Nah. Sorry.” I smiled in anticipation. “See you later.”

“See ya, gorgeous.” He hung up.

I walked over to the sign of the park, sat down in the shade of it, and listened to at least two albums before I saw Speed’s old black Chevy pull up, stopping with a screech.

I shoved my walkman into my purse and stumbled to my feet. His familiar face, split lip, and droopy left eye made me smile and instantly feel better than I felt in ages.

“Layne! Get in here!” He called to me, grinning, as he slid his black wraparound sunglasses down onto his face.

I jumped into the passenger seat and he pressed play on the cassette player. His beat-up Descendents cassette began to whir. Milo Goes To College had been our favourite since we were twelve.

“Long time no see.” He turned his head to grin at me. “We’ve missed ya.”

“I’ve missed you guys. This place fuckin’ sucks!” But I couldn’t help smiling like I had a hanger stuck in my mouth.

“Let’s go!” We sped off down the street, careening left as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music.

“I’m guessing there’s not really any place cool to hang out?” He asked, sizing up downtown Pleasant Grove with a frown.

“Not that I could find.”

“Jesus Christ!” Speed shrieked, honking at the young couple he’d nearly run over. “The light was green!”

“Fuckin’ idiots.” I shook my head and laughed.

We drove around town for a while, laughing, bobbing our heads to the music. Just like in the good old days.

Six o’clock rolled around, and Speed pulled into a Burger King. “Milkshake?” He pulled off his sunglasses and winked. “I’ll pay.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks.”

We bought chocolate milkshakes and sat in one of those red booths. A couple guys I’d seen in school were there with their girlfriends, and, when they gave us sideways looks, we stuck out our tongues at them, laughing manically.

“Just like the good old days.” I grinned, sipping my milkshake.

“Yeah,” Speed agreed. His cell phone rang, and he answered, “Hey?” Then, “No… No, I’m not in town right now, actually… Just outta town right now… Sure, later… Yeah… I’ll call ya in a bit, okay? Bye.”

“Who was that?” I asked curiously, glancing at the phone.

“My buddy, Peter,” He replied, putting his cell phone back into his jeans pocket. “D’you know him? I dunno if you’ve met him.”

“I don’t remember him.”

“He’s a cool dude. Maybe you’ll meet him. It depends. Your parents are cool with you staying out late? I dunno, last time I saw you…”

“Uh, can I use your phone to call my mom?” I asked, biting my lower lip. Anxiety started up in my mind, but I slammed it shut as Speed passed me his phone.

I couldn’t remember what our new house number was, so I dialed James’ cell number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, James… It’s Elena.” The worry whirred up again, just a little bit. “Is Mom there?”

“Yeah, we just ate dinner…” He paused for a moment, and I could hear him talking to my mom.

Then: “Where are you?”

“I’m at a Burger King right now.”

“Alone? Who are you with?”

“I’m with some new friends of mine,” I lied. “From school… They’re really nice. You’d like them. Is that alright?”

He was silent for a moment, but I could hear my mom in the background. He replied, “Yeah, yeah, it’s alright. Can you be back for… Eleven, please, Elena? It’s a school night.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at Speed, who was absentmindedly drinking his milkshake. “I’ll be home by eleven. See you later.”

“Bye,” James said. “And your mom says bye, too. And- hey? It’s great you’ve got some new friends. Stay safe, make good choices… Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up, passed Speed’s cell phone back to him.

“Eleven? Seriously?” He chuckled, putting his sunglasses back on as he glanced sideways towards the khaki-wearing guys with their girlfriends, who chewed on their salads.

“Yeah…” I frowned, forehead creased. “You gotta understand, I gotta be home at eleven. I gotta follow the rules for a bit, so they trust me a bit. And then…” I let my voice trail off, I could tell Speed wasn’t listening and didn’t care, anyway.

“Why? If you’re gonna break the rules, just break ‘em now. C’mon, I won’t be able to drive all the way over here everyday. Why can’t ya, Layne? Why can’t ya just stay out, gorgeous?”

“Ah, fuck it.” I smiled sullenly, sighed. “Doesn’t fucking matter.”

He slurped his milkshake and grinned at me. “I knew you weren’t ever gonna be no rule-follower.”

“How could I be?” I laughed, but it sort of felt forced. “It’s in my goddamn DNA.”

“Hey, let’s go.” Speed jumped up, throwing down a cheap tip into the table. “Is there even a liquor store in this hellhole?”

We strode back out and got in his truck. I put on the Mother Love Bone cassette that we’d had a hell of a time getting a hold of the previous year, and we were off.

We drove around until we found a liquor store, and we parked outside. “Wait here,” Speed told me, grabbing his wallet. “Fake ID ain’t never failed me.”

I sat there for ten minutes, fiddling with the strings in my ancient hoodie. I thought about how upset my mom got about my wearing it that morning. She had a reason to- her daughter, wearing her ex-husband’s hoodie… Her daughter, who could very well end up just like her dad? I thought a lot about that as I waited for Speed. I guess my mom was probably worried about that a lot, me becoming like my dad. It was kind of a worrying thought.

“Hell yeah, gorgeous!” Speed jumped into the car, tossing a party pack of whatever alcohol into the back seat. “Let’s go!”

I grinned. “Where’re we headed?”

“Back home, of course! You think we can raise hell over there without you? Think of this as a little back to school thing, ya know? Monday night!”

We roared down the highway for about forty-five minutes until we got back to my good ol’ home town. Just as suburban as Pleasant Grove, but I knew how to get around there.

Speed parked at a gas station and called Peter. “Hey, man, I’m back in town. Where are you? Me and Layne’ll stop by.”

Next thing I know, we pulled up outside an apartment building  on the outskirts of town. A gangly dude with long, knotty, hippie-like hair met us in the parking lot.

Speed said, “Hey, Peter, man, this is Layne. Layne, Peter.”

Peter and I shook hands- an oddly formal greeting, I thought, but whatever.

Peter led Speed and I into his apartment, where he lived with his older brother, who wasn’t home. Three other girls, my age and some even younger, were curled up on a couch, passing around a bong.

Peter sat at the kitchen counter, where Speed placed down the party pack of vodka ice tea. 

Speed dropped his arm around my shoulder and passed me a drink. “Glad to have ya back, gorgeous.”

Peter raised his can and cried out, “Here’s to fuckin’ school, eh?” He roared in laughter, and we all drank to that, for some reason.

“Here’s to gettin’ wasted on Mondays!” Screamed one of the girls on the couch, who was probably high on something other than pot.

Music screamed, the lights got dimmer as the sun went down, and more people showed up in pairs and trios. Rancid was blasting on the stereos. It was their newest album at the time, but I couldn’t recall the name.

At some point, I joined the group of girls on the couch and we all smoked- a lot. I learned that one of them was named Shannon and she was only barely thirteen, and her friends were all fifteen, like me. I wondered how the hell a thirteen-year-old had gotten there.

Shannon and I giggled together, exhaling plumes of smoke into each other’s faces. She fumbled in her jeans’ pockets until she pulled out a plastic baggie, stuffed full of pills. “I…” She looked confused, disoriented. “My friend works… In a pharmacy.”

“What?” I could barely hear her over the music, but I could very well see the bag of pills, despite the fact that I was dangerously far from sober.

“Wanna?” This thirteen-year-old popped a couple half-yellow, half-green capsules, smiling with jagged, yellow teeth.

“Fuck- what? Okay!” I took one. I never found out what it was, but it didn’t matter. It made my body feel lighter- lighter than air. Everything became lighter.

Eleven o’clock passed quickly. I didn’t even realize it, because I was doing shots with Speed and Peter and some older girl I didn’t know.

I giggled and leaned against the grimy apartment’s wall, my head light. I’d always loved when my head felt light, and nothing really felt, you know?

“Ay… Gorgeous, you alright?” Speed staggered against the wall beside me. “You lookin’ a bit sick.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m great.” I grinned goofily at him. “I missed this shit so much!”

“Hell yeah!” He threw his fist in the air, narrowly missing some stumbling drunk girl, who I think I recognized.

I leaned my head against him, giggling like a maniac.

“What’s so funny, gorgeous?” Speed was giggling, too. It was contagious.

“Nothin’,” I coughed out, between laughs. “Nothin’s even funny.”

We held each other while still giggling manically together, until we started to cry. What the hell were we crying about? I don’t know.

Peter just about crashed into us, his words slurring madly as he asked, “Whada hell’re you cryin’ ‘bout? This’sa party!” His eyes were bloodshot and hugely dilated, his body loose and dangerously drunk.

Neither of us replied. It didn’t matter. Everyone was too wasted to care, including Speed and I.

“Fuck, man, I gotta get home…” I murmured, my voice sticking in my throat. There was vodka spilled down my hoodie, my eyeliner running.

“I can’t fuckin’ drive,” replied Speed, looking around the apartment, disoriented.

“I can, I can drive. I’m okay to drive…” I wasn’t and I knew it. I wasn’t even old enough to drive.

Speed just shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes, which were partly hidden by askew sunglasses. “Bus,” was the only word he said.

“What?” The blaring music was too loud.

“Take a bus!”

“Don’t got no cash!”

He shoved some cash in my face, almost angrily. “Take a goddamn bus, Layne!”

I rubbed my forehead and took the money- I couldn’t be bothered to count it. I stumbled out of the apartment, threw up in the parking lot. I began staggering around in the dark, alone, until I remembered where the bus station was.

The whole town seemed deserted as I staggered on, shivering like a madwoman. I was grateful for the lack of anybody, but at the time, I couldn’t tell if the streets were crowded or empty.

Luckily, I just caught a late-night bus, and somehow Speed’s money paid for it, not even a dollar short. Thank God for that.

I crashed into a seat, clutching my purse tightly. My eyes drifted to the passing lights along the highway, but I had to look away because it was giving me a headache. Stomach acids rose in my throat, burning.

I began to fumble with the strings in my hoodie. It was stained with vodka that dropped down the front. My shiny blonde hair was greasy, sticking up and frizzy, my makeup running down my cheeks.

I dug for my hand-mirror in my purse to take a look at how shitty I looked. And I really did look like shit.

I turned to the nearest woman: a middle-aged, weary-looking Asian lady with a large travelling bag. “What time’s it?” I asked her.

Her thin eyes traveled up to the clock, and rain began to patter against the bus windows. “It’s just about two.” She sized me up, then asked, “What’re you doing travelling so late?”

“Gotta get home.”

“Oh.” Then: “How old are you?”

“Why do you gotta know, lady?” I giggled. It sounded funny. I don’t know why.

“Because you look pretty young, that’s all. And you look like you just survived a hurricane.”

“I’m eighty-three,” I replied, with a small groan. “Listen, do you have a phone I can use?”

“No, sorry…” The woman looked away, her mouth creasing in a thin line.

I looked down at my alcohol-stinking hoodie. My heart sank. What a sad sight.