Cemetery Drive

“Shit!” I screeched pulling my jeans over my small hips and a Pink Floyd shirt over my head; I was going to be late!

I stole a glance at myself before attempting to dash out the door before my Dad, Stan saw me.

“Hey! Where you off to in such a hurry?”

Fuck! I was caught.

“I’m running a little late Dad, but I am only missing English.”

Half-ass excuse I know, but it might work.

“Well get your ass to school, that’s your best class.”

I smiled at him knowing he was right. I always had a good way with words, and reading was a good way to pass the time.

“I know Dad, see you after school?”

He smiled at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll be here. Have a good day!”

“I will!”

I shouted as I ran out the door.

My Dad was my best friend, well along with Kyle, but my Dad still pulled rank before Kyle; I was a Daddy’s girl through and through.

I unlocked my car and swung into the seat, grabbing for the joint I had in my ashtray, another bad habit I have, and sparked it up before backing out of the driveway.

‘Money’ by Floyd was playing on the stereo as I sang along and drove the fifteen minutes to school.

I pulled my Toyota Echo into the school parking lot at 9:22 am.

I was very late, and very stoned.

Taking the last drag off my cigarette I flipped my visor down and checked myself one last time in the mirror.

Black eye make -up and blood red lipstick made my grey eyes pop, I loved the look.

I smiled at myself and put the visor back up, I was reaching for my purse on the passenger side floor when my car lurched forward.

‘What the fuck?!’ I thought to myself.

I dashed out of the car and wheeled around to find a boy I had never seen before looking horrified sitting in the driver’s seat, he looked over at me and exited the car.

“Drive much asshole?”

I snapped, if he couldn’t tell from the look on my face he definitely knew I was pissed now.

“Hey, I am so sorry I was not paying attention at all.”

I rolled my eyes at him and went to inspect the damage. Luckily there was just a small dent in my car, his front fender though was a different story, it was pushed in a good 4 inches and had purple paint marks from my car.

“Well looks like you need to apologize to yourself, and learn to keep your eyes on the fucking road!”

I heard him laugh as I walked back to my door leaning over to grab my purse from its spot, he was probably checking out my ass I thought to myself. I was searching for my cigarettes to light one when I heard him walk up behind me.

“Can’t you take a hint dipshit?”

I asked as I turned to face him, that’s when I noticed him for the first time. He had messy black hair, an array of tattoos on his arms, a nose piercing along with the side of his lip, and that’s when I saw his eyes. The mix of hazel and green was enough to silence me, I couldn't think of any witty comeback at all.

“Name’s Frank. Frank Iero.”

He reached out his hand and after a moment I took it.

“Nicole.”

We stood there in silence for a minute, giving me a good excuse to light my smoke. I inhaled and watched as he pulled out a pack of Marlboros from his pocket.

“So what brings you to Belleville High?” I asked as he lit his smoke.

“Ah I’m actually thinking of transferring, not to sure yet though.”

I nodded taking a drag.

“Well its hell just so you know.”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Aren’t all high schools?” He asked.

“True.”

I smiled at him, which he returned.

We stood in silence for a few minutes, smoking our cigarettes and looking at anything but the other person. When he finally did speak, his voice almost, and I repeat almost made my knees go weak. What the hell was this boy doing to me?

“Well ah since I dented your car, and it appears your late anyways, you ah maybe want to go grab a coffee or something?”

I studied his face for a minute considering my options.

One, I could go for coffee with this guy or
Two, I could go into the school listen to teachers ramble on and on, and more than likely get in shit for being so late.

I butted my smoke out and looked up at him through my side bangs.

“You wanna grab a drink instead?”
He studied my face for a minute, searching for what I don’t know, maybe to see if I was a serial murderer or something.

“Your car or mine?” He asked.

Notes