Chapter 3:
High School Sweethearts.
Kristen

"Johnny?"

"Kris, uhm. . .hey."

I wasn't surprised to see Johnny was still living in California, just that he was living in Reseda rather than his old man's place.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, "I don't see you around. Atleast in the last-"

"Ten years, yeah," I nodded. To say I was happy or excited was a complete lie. Johnny and I didn't end things on the best of terms, and he only made it worse in the end.

"How's Quinn?" He met her momentarily about thirteen years ago when I ran into him at the store. When she was happy, bright, and a normal girl.

"Better than me, that's for sure. How's Robby?" They would be the same age by now, and there's no doubt that Shannon is giving that boy the guilt trip of a life time.

"Wouldn't know," He shrugged, grabbing his Coors beer from the back of the fridge.

Of course.

"So, what are you now? Some big shot model or something?" He asked, mainly referring to the under eighteen modeling I did back in high school.

I chuckled, "No, you know my dad was the only reason I did that stuff. I'm a Forensic Psychologist."

"Huh," He tilted his head.

"And Jessie? What's he doing these days?"

"He's dead, got murdered in prison," I said while grabbing some cheap wine, no remorse in my voice whatsoever.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He deserved it," I put the alcohol on the counter and fished my purse for my ID.

"Always knew that guy was a scumbag. High school sweethearts is what the yearbook said, but I knew different."

I did too.

But it was him who made me go through with that.

And I thank God everyday that he's gone.

"Thirty-five dollars and ten cents," I handed him my card.

"How're you?" I asked.

"Doing what I can. Hey, uhm, have you spoken to Danny?"

I quirked my brow, "LaRusso? No, haven't since high school."

"Not even Ali?" Ah, Ali Mills. She was tugging on boys heartstrings for as long as I could remember, and always had atleast one boy by a thread.

Even me.

"Not even Ali," I grabbed my bag, and turned back to Johnny.

"Want to come over? I've got nothing going on today," I offered, wanting to reconnect with an old friend and he looked like he needed a day off.

Never in a million years did I think that Johnny Lawrence would be looking like a homeless man, or potentially be homeless, but here we are.

"Sure, why not. I'll follow you?" I nodded.

"Yeah."

_________

"Oh my god!" I laughed, "a-and then you fell to the ground and your-your face was priceless!"

"Hey, you kicked me in the balls! How was I supposed to react?!"

"Atleast you never compared a period to that again," I sipped on my wine and he chuckled.

"Yeah, good times," He glanced over my figure, to which I immediately regretted not telling him that I invited him over as a friend.

And not an old flame.

"How was the funeral for your dad?" He randomly brought up.

Huh.

"Wouldn't know. I didn't go," I shrugged.

"Really?"

"Hell no. After all he's done, to the both of us? I didn't even want to think about him. All that time, every chance my mom gave him and he still fucked around without a care and without consequences, like he was the reincarnation of Jesus," I rolled my eyes.

He's better off dead.

"Still as angry as ever," Johnny smirked.

That smirk.

That's what got me in the first place.

We stayed silent for a bit and he started to lean in, to which I put my finger up to his lips to stop him.

"Johnny, I'm. . .I'm a lesbian."

"O-oh. . .how long have you known?" He pulled back.

"Since high school, but you know, people weren't so accepting back then as they are now. And you know, my dad would have kicked me to the curb," I awkwardly explained.

"Did. . .did you know when we-?"

I nodded, "Right after, actually. I kinda just thought, "dick isn't for me"."

"Oh. . ."

Awkward. . .