Bubblegum and Cigarettes

3

There was homework due but I hadn't done it. Saturday had been spent nursing a hangover and Sunday was spent lounging around watching crap films on the telly with mum. I came in late as usual and took my seat at the back. "Great party huh?" One of the boys sitting near me lent my way and whispered.

"The best," I smiled back. I remembered bits and pieces of that night, the main feeling I woke up with the next morning was guilt. Not because I fucked someone I shouldn't have. Not because I'd fucked anyone at all, in fact I was certain I hadn't even kissed anyone. I felt guilt because I'd drunk myself into near oblivion. Again. After the look mum had given me when I smashed her vase I'd promised myself not to touch it ever again. I thought I had a problem. My head was swimming with all the wrong kind of thoughts.

"No homework?" Sarah, my English Language teacher raised an eyebrow unimpressed. "Well it's your own problem Jessica. Just try not to make a habit out of it." I kept flicking the end of my pen impatiently, I needed a cigarette.

"You're quite a good dancer," a girl whose name I didn't know said, peering round the girl sat beside her. She always wore maroon shorts and tights. I didn't get it. "Don't you remember?" I shook my head slowly, clicking my pen.

"She was pretty drunk," her friend lent forward, inserting herself in the conversation. "I've never actually seen anyone drink as much as you in one go. How are you still alive?" I didn't know how to reply so just muttered under my breath and shrugged my shoulders loosely. For once it wasn't completely abysmal weather outside. The sun peered around various grey clouds, burning up the bitterness in the wind.

"You know that Dylan guy was following you around like a bad smell?" Maroon Shorts told me as if he really was some contagious disease I should be wary of. I liked him. Dylan the miasma. I flicked my pen once more. "He's a drug dealer. Knows some pretty horrible people. You don't want to be associated with a rat like him." And that was my official warning. I nodded but internally dismissed them. I'd make my own mistakes.

I lent against the wall that did little to shelter me from the blast of the winds, cigarette in one hand and my sunglasses sat large in front of my eyes. A pair of denim eyes paused my way. "Can I help?" I asked slowly, unbearably indifferent.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses when there's no sun?" The headmaster frowned suspiciously. A reel of possible accusations ran through my head but instead I simply smirked and shrugged. He said nothing either, just continued to stare until he had to say something. "That's a nice skirt you're wearing."

My mouth opened into a brilliant smile and I flicked ash onto the ground, my lips parting as I released a stream of smoke. "You like it?" I purred. He nodded almost eagerly. I found it interesting, he seemed kind of hooked. "Cool." Taking another quick drag I smirked, blowing a wave of smoke into his face, licking my lips as I dropped the cigarette, grinding it under my foot before walking away from him without a backward glance. Did the headmaster just hit on me?

"Hey," the hostess from the other night tapped my shoulder with a delicate finger. She'd painted strawberries on her nails. "Wanna skip next lesson? We're thinking about heading into town and I wondered if you wanted to come along too."

"Ok." We went to a park with a couple of carrier bags full of cider and crashed out on a bench getting drunk just after midday. The girl, I learned through extensive listening was called Clarissa. I couldn't help but think about what a baby Clarissa looked like. It seemed like such a grown up name. Like Paul. Baby Paul.

It was cold out in the middle of a park, exposed to the elements as we chattered until a local police officer started making toward us. I reacted slower than the others. "That's Rachel's dad," Clarissa whispered as she pulled me sharply to my feet. "Plus we're not allowed to drink in a public place...And like, some of us aren't eighteen but basically we're not meant to be here drinking." So I let her grasp my hand and giggling we sprinted in the opposite direction to the policeman. Glancing over my shoulder I saw that he'd stopped walking, evidently having made his point. Besides, his eyes were focused solely on the back of his daughter's head.