• Last year this time, sitting in girls living room. Trying to make sense of teenage lovers end. Trying to sound smart in my sleep. Trying to gain courage from coffee. My eyelids were always stronger than. the caffeine. Background information on myself, will have to go un announced. There are only four people to these papers. A few dead to the world fucks might trickle in, but they always evaporate. Look at it as flashbacks. And maybe some Flashforwards. I know i'm throwing these at you from all directions, but I never told you, you had to catch them. Just read. And maybe you can relate. If you can't. I am assuming that you are perfect, or really fucking dumb. Whichever, congratulations. I'd really like to meet either of you.
  
  I am driving, all the time. It's always the grey Honda we named Hondisha. I am never looking at anything. Only thinking, and making the turns second nature. I only catch girl hitting ceiling. It's quick. But it's there. Even in the new white, unstained no cigarette smell 13,000$ P O S. We're driving for a while. I'm taking her to the mall so her aunt can pick her up. I turn on Dashboard Confessional. And not on purpose, but coinsidense, i pour my confessions on the dashboard. I hope she is listening to them. I hope "shes talking to the dashboard" is not the case. I know I was talking about him again. Him is just a dead to world fuck who will evaporate soon. Or maybe he will stay, but in no means is he part of the script that is as important as the four on these papers. I was always talking about him. Girl might hit the ceiling. but nothing ever changes. the ceiling doesn't shake some magic dust and turn everything to gold. But I am golden. and she is onyx. A beautiful onyx. Laced with silver. Now.
  She thanks me for the ride. I welcome her. She gets out. she's gone.
  
  We;re in the back of a car. I am Bonde girl. she is Girl. He is Boy1. Girl is on the left. Boy1 is in the middle. Two boys in front are there. Boy1 wasn't "boy1" then. But is now. For now. They roll it quick. We smoke it faster. My life is over the fastest. She inhales. stares blankly. I laugh. Boy1 laughs. Girls stares. Girl has crazy hair. Wearing all black. Bookbag. Little make up. Clear skin. Full face. Not beautiful. But scary to look at because it's the kind of look you want, but can never have. Nothing you would describe if you'd never seen it. But something you knew you would never want to lose if you had. And thats where I am. Sitting there laughing. Me. Blonde girl. Has crush on Boy1. Girl knows. Girl isn't bestfriends with boy1 just yet. They are now. Girl is walking with boy1. Blonde girl. I am walking alone. I search my phone for someone to. text. call? maybe. They don't pick up anyways. But they call right back. I walk back to socialization. Girl and Boy1 are holding hands and swinging. Blonde girl. I get more distant. Girl doesn't understand. The rest of the night as we knew it Blonde girl and Girl didn't talk. Girl is trying to sleep on couch. Blonde girl is thinking about Boy1 and Girl. Girls mom calls. Girl ignores. Girls mom calls blonde girls mom. Blonde girl doesnt know. Blonde girl gets phone call. Blonde girl ignores. Heartbeat quickens. Time gets slower. Blonde girls sister calls. Blonde girl ignores. New voicemail. "youre in trouble. youre not where you're supposed to be."
  "william can you take me home. my mom is freaking out."
  "yeah, whats up. whats wrong."
  "idk shes freraking out. she always does this. idk"
  Blonde girl. I rush him out of his own house. I dont say goodbye to anyone.
  I look through the compartments in the car. I find axe. I spray.
  "got any eye drops?"
  "no, id ont think so. dude it's okay chill"
  "no it's not. mom is going to freak we need a plan"
  I thought of something clever.
  I'm leaving things out.
  I call my sister and tell her my and my friend got into a fight. My sister picks me up from down the street. I'm hoping for a few breezes. I climb in. Sister smells it. And tells it.
  "dont go up stairs. mom wants to talk to you."
  "i know im just putting my bookbag down" I walk into my moms room. It's dark. she's still under her covers. Thank god. Heart is still pounding. Drugs still in me. Nothing matters. Long story short. I tell her everything, because I am caught and trapped. and Lying was a good way to do things. But not if youre going to get caught. Telling the truth the first time would still mean you'd only see her hit the ceiling one more time. Or one more time since the last. But only once when it could have been millions. Girl was my bestfriend. She hit ceilings, and slept on floors. Smoked menthols. Not drugs. She hated them actually. Well the kind you smoke. Still does. So do I. But she only knows.

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