shake up the BFHS population. Still, on some days school did nothing but remind me of the legacy my mother had left me with—I was nothing but the poor bad boy that your parents warned you about. Hell, if I had one of those ‘Hello My Name Is’ nametags, it’d probably say:
Hi, I’m Jesse Tyler. I am seventeen years old and am basically an orphan. Sure, both my parents are alive and kicking, but considering who they are and how they treat me I’m basically abandoned. Dad up and left me for a better life in South Carolina, and as for Mom, well, let’s just say I’m the adult in that relationship. I cook, clean, pay the bills, and do my best to ignore her alcohol-infused madness.
“My name is Jesse Tyler,” I mumbled to myself. “I used to hate the sight of alcohol and the smell of weed. Now, I want nothing more than to go home and throw back a few bottles while smoking a blunt.”
Yup, I was basically the textbook definition of nature and nurture. After all those years trying to keep my mom away from the bad stuff, I found myself diving into her stash as well. Stephanie was right—I did deserve to be boiled.
“Jesse!”
My brain came back to earth, and I had to blink twice to remember where I was. Rocky’s voice always had the power to snap me back to reality, and her timing couldn’t have been better. I turned around and automatically grinned at the sight of her sprinting toward me. She looked so cute running down the hallway, her hair tied up in two loose braids that bounced against her shoulders.
“Hey, yourself,” I greeted, switching the strap of my backpack from one shoulder to the other, ensuring there was nothing in the way between us.
She skidded to a stop beside me looking like a cartoon character. All she was missing was the screeching noise and the cloud of smoke at her feet. She tugged at her braids nervously. “Stephanie told me she gave you a talking to. You okay?”
I smirked. “I think I’ll survive.”
“She’s really something sometimes…you can tell me what you really think about it, you know. I won’t tell her.”
A smile teased my lips, but I wasn’t about to bite. No way was I going to start bad mouthing one friend to another—even if she deserved it. “Yeah, she’s something all right, but she does make a good point.”
“What do you mean?” Rocky paused and glanced up at me curiously. Her thick eyebrows, which she often forgot to pluck, curled down toward the center of her face.
Without answering her question, I nudged her forward. “Let’s just talk about it later.”
“But—”
“Come on, let’s get to the gym. Gotta burn the burger I ate last night.” To make a point, I grabbed at my gut and shook at it the best I could, which was hard to do since I basically had no fat in that area.
“Like you have any gut to get rid of, Mr. Six-Pack. Believe me; I’ve seen it countless times…” As soon as the words left her mouth, she broke into a bright red blush. Though I wanted nothing more than to tease her about spying on me—a thought that strangely excited me—I resigned myself to grabbing her elbow and guiding her to class even though gym was the last place I wanted to be. Gym. It didn’t help that seniors didn’t usually take the class, but due to my excessive truancies and due to Rocky’s incessant need to be joined at my hip (but hey I’m not complaining), we found ourselves enrolled in fourth period physical education with Coach Lowe, the most overweight and anti-stereotypical gym coach you could possibly have. At least the school gods shined down upon us and gave us an easy A in that regard.
After a few moments of silence, I glanced over my shoulder and gazed down at her sadly. “Listen, about what Steph said…”
“Uh huh?” she prodded, undoubtedly relieved I was willing to talk about it.
I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Rocky…I…”
“Just spit it out, Jesse.”
“Okay, fine.” I stalled, trying to figure out how best to word what I was about to say. Communication of any sort wasn’t my strong suit, and after a few moments of realizing I’d piss her off no matter what, I thought, Ah, fuck it.
“Listen, Rocky, we both know that I’m meant to have a pretty messed up life, but not you. Maybe our good friend,”