Weston

It's been six weeks since school started back.

Six weeks of bullshit tests and studying. Six weeks of bullshit parties I don't even enjoy anymore. Six weeks of hangovers from said parties where I drank too much just trying to forget the truth and convince myself that I'm fine with this being my life. But even six damn weeks of pretending can't make something suddenly true.

I hate myself.

Not just because of that night, though that is a huge part of it. I hate myself in general. I don't know if I ever really liked myself before, or if I was just too distracted to wonder if I'm a good person or not. But the last six weeks have given me plenty of time to come to the realization that I'm in fact, not a good person, and I do actually hate myself.

I never realized how much things I did affected other people until now. I'm so sick and tired of this whole scene I've become a part of. Even, and I hate to say this, but even the girls aren't doing it for me anymore. It's only an hour escape at the most and then I'm right back to being stuck with myself and feeling like shit for using Tammy or Jenifer or Rebecca or whoever else was around when I felt weak. They all want more from me than just sex, but that's all I've got. They don't deserve to be used by me.

I'm a bomb. No good for anyone because sooner or later I'm going to blow up and destroy everything and everyone in my path just like I always do. I destroy.

I keep a big fake smile pasted to my face as I casually walk through the halls, high fives this way, a wink that way, until finally I'm in my Chemistry class.

It's one of the very few good parts of my day because it's the only time I'm around Lena. I never in a million years would think I'd enjoy spending time with her, but she is literally the only other person who seems to see me as I am. She hates me just as much as I hate myself and I find some comfort in knowing I don't have to fake around her. She already knows I'm a bomb. She's felt the blast herself.

I go for our table but worry sets in when she isn't already sitting there.

Lena is never absent. Something must be wrong.

I go to leave the room but Daniels gives me a look and holds up his clipboard of demerits. I sigh, knowing if I get another one I'll be in detention after school which will mean running suicides for coach and not being able to stop by her house to check on her.

It's not something I do everyday, but most. She never knows about it, I just pull quick little drivebys to be sure she's ok. I chuckle to myself a little as I take a seat. I sound like such a dumbass.

Checking in on little Lena.

It's not like by driving by there I can tell if she's even home. Her uncle always is though, which is weird, but I guess he got new hours at work or something. He probably wanted to be around more to look out for her or some shit. Lena always has people looking out for her like she's a lost little lamb.

You're one of them, dumbass. I have to remind myself. I always remind myself of the reason and my stomach hurts. I can still hear the gunshot ringing out in my ears.

I double forward on the table for a second, pressing my forehead to the smooth cool top and then sit up like nothing is wrong. I'm the picture of high school perfection again. I'm just Weston Ford, great football player, great lay, great friend....that lie doesn't quite sell anymore since I got the only real friend I had killed.

Class begins and I get to work as soon as Daniels is done prattling off about how smart he thinks he is for coming up with this super enriching lab for us.

It hardly takes me ten minutes to get almost to the end of the lab by myself. I glance up at Daniels smugly but then I hear the knock on the door.

He walks over with the clipboard in hand and lets Lena in. Her cheeks are flushed, her blonde waves hanging down around her shoulders instead of up in her usual ponytail, and one shoe is untied like she just got ready in the hallway.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Daniels." She looks up at him under her long ass eyelashes. "I over-I just...won't happen again." She's flustered, shifting her weight in discomfort standing in front of the class like she is.

"Walk of shame." Emerlee coughs under her breath and the room laughs quietly.

My fists clench under the desk and I glare over at Emerlee, making her gulp before I look back to Daniels. I expect him to reprimand the class but he's too busy making eyes at Lena.

I gnaw at the inside of my cheek until I taste blood when he reaches out and puts his big hand on her shoulder, using his thumb to rub her collar bone. He whispers something to her and then let's her go on, watching every step she takes like the whole fucking class can't tell he's thinking less than appropriate thoughts about his student. The douchebag has already slept with like half of the junior class, but he better keeps his dick in his pants around her or I might just come across some photo evidence of him with Reilly Taylor last year. She would give me the pictures if I asked her nicely. I'd love to watch this guy waste away in prison.

For what? Sleeping with girls? Isn't that what you do?

I banish the thoughts and try not to look like I notice when she sits down beside me. She smells like mint gum and strawberries.

Really? You're smelling her now? Get a grip.

"Sorry I'm late." She mumbles while she digs through her bag and throws her notebook onto the table while still looking for her pens. I almost smile when I notice the new little pictures on the front of it. She's doodling again, little flowers and butterflies, childish shit really, but that's got to mean she's feeling better, right?

"Just getting here?" I say in a disinterested tone. "Didn't know the bus ran this late." I offered a few weeks ago to drive her to and from school. I even showed up to her house one morning but she walked right by my car and up the block to the city bus stop. I followed behind her, yelling threats out of the window that I'd throw her over my shoulder again, then she yelled back that if I ever pulled that shit again I'd be sorry and she help up the small can of pepper spray she now keeps in the side pocket of her bag. I was pretty sure she was bluffing but not stupid enough to try to find out.

She sits back in her seat and sighs. "It doesn't." She informs me. "I drove Terry's car."

I nod. "Won't he need it?"

"No," she mutters. "He won't." There's a finality in her voice that makes me not question her any further on the topic. Instead I slide over the lab booklet so she can copy the answers down. "I'll do it myself." She tells me, shoving it back.

"Why?" I push it over again. "It's already done."

"I want to make a good grade." She snaps.

I have to clench my teeth and let out a deep breath. "I've already taken this class, I know how to do the work." I snap right back.

She leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, puckering her lips smugly at me. I hate it when she makes that face. It guarantees that whatever is about come out of her mouth is going to piss me off.

"Need I remind you that you are taking this class again because you failed the entire year? Are you so stupid that you didn't even realize it's taking you five years to finish high school when it only takes normal people four?" She shakes her head. "I'll stick to doing my own work."

I cool down a bit before I start cursing and screaming at her in the middle of a classroom, but sad or not, I'm not letting her talk down at me either.

I make her jump when I grab the side of her seat, my hand brushing her leg a little as I jerk her chair to make her face me. I lean in and glare into her big grey eyes. "Maybe you're the one who is too stupid, or maybe just too fucking full of yourself to notice, but I have been on every honor roll this school has had since freshman year. The only reason I'm repeating this year is because this school has a bullshit rule about no makeup exams. And since I missed mine, here I am. Why don't you ask yourself why I missed my exams?" I am still seething but I know she knows why. "I was too torn up about my dead best friend to even give a shit about the stupid tests. But you probably don't believe that either since you think Beckham meant nothing to me."

I can feel some of the other kids looking our way so I turn in my seat so that I'm not in her face anymore. She lets out a sigh and I see her wipe something from her eye out of the corner of my eye. "Oh yeah?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "Where were you then?"

I turn back, my eyes wide. "What?"

"The funeral." She brings a hand up to her chest like it hurts and I wonder if it does. I am instantly kicking myself for starting this up with her again. I should have just stuck to our usual bickering. She'd call me an arrogant dick and I'd call her a stuck up bitch. That's what she and I do. We call each other names to hide our pain, but right now both of ours is on full display.

I glare over at the table closest to us that's watching and they look away. I don't know why or when but I look down and notice I'm clutching her hand in mine.

"I was there." I whisper. I don't even know why I'm telling her the truth, but I am. "I pulled up to the funeral home and I sat for thirty minutes with my hand on the door handle in my car and I just couldn't force myself to get out of the car." I close my eyes, but only for a second because when my eyes are closed I see Beckham and his wide eyes as the shot rang out, before he even knew the bullet was in him. "It was too final, Lena, I couldn't see him like that. Laying there in whatever nice suit your family put him in. Something he'd never wear if he were alive. I wanted to...but I couldn't. I just went home and I stayed there until my parents forced me to come back to school."

Her brows pull together while she stares down, a line forming between them. "What about California-"

"That was a lie." I admit with the shake of my head.

She swallows and sniffles once before gaining her composure again. I nearly gasp when she suddenly looks up into my eyes, the grey color in them seeming to swirl like clouds over the ocean in a storm. "I'm sorry." She whispers and I have to blink twice to be sure she really said that and that I'm not dreaming this all. "I know you did care about him, and I'm sorry."

I want to feel better, but it only makes me feel worse. I don't want her to be sorry, she isn't the one to blame. I am. I'm the one who should be sorry.

"I'm sorry too." I whisper and she bites into her bottom lip, grating her teeth against it slowly as she releases it. "I really am, Lena. For everything." I drag my eyes away from her mouth that I've got no business looking at and stare down at the table in front of me.

Slowly, she pulls her hand free from mine and I put my hand back into my own lap. She glances at me once before reaching over and pulling my lab booklet back in front of her and she starts to copy the answers down into her own.

It's a small victory for me, but with Lena there are only small victories to be had. She's the most frustrating girl I've ever met, but she's the only girl left who is safe from me. I've already blown apart her life. She already knows I'm a walking disaster, leaving chaos in my wake. I can't possibly make her life worse, so it's my sole mission to make it better.

Whatever it takes.