Wrong-An Ethan Morales FanFiction

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

𝓔𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷

"Yᴏ, ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ Mɪss Lᴀᴛɪɴᴀ ɪs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏsᴘɪᴛᴀʟ?" Sʜʀɪᴍᴘ ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴡᴇ walked down the halls and towards our next class. Once he said that, I stopped right in my tracks and looked at him, eyes widened and confusion flooding them.
"Say what? Why?" The question escaped on its own.
I had found it weird that Isabel hadn't been present to any spanish classes, the only people that were currently in contact with her being Devi and Eleanor. They know something, and I feel like Devi knows a lot more than anyone else considering how she didn't even talk about it.
"Apparently, she fell down the stairs, hit her head and bled a lot." Shrimp resumed in a few words, also not walking anymore and looking at me, not much emotion in his eyes.
Couldn't blame him, he didn't even know her.
"Damn. Is she alright?" Another question I was not planning on asking.
"She's staying in the hospital for a week." He answered, a sigh leaving my mouth. Mostly of relief since at least he didn't say she was in a coma. Why do I care anyway? We only made out for like ten to fifteen minutes. No big deal.
Since Shrimp didn't take spanish, we both went our separate ways. He had math or whatever, while I headed to the class I had right now. Spanish with Señora Diaz. That bitch.
I walked my way down to my seat, Devi and Eleanor already there.
Needing more details about what happened with Isabel, another question slipped out of my mouth unintentionally.
"Hey, Crazy Devi, is Isabel alright?" A groan slipped out of my mouth once I dropped the question, my fingers going to the bridge of my nose and pinching it.
I just asked a question I wasn't supposed to ask, especially since Eleanor was right there, she was friends with Isabel and I'd kissed both of them, and I didn't talk to Eleanor anymore after our kiss by the fridge, but I also just called Devi crazy. Which basically, she was. Even though until this day, I still thought it was hot how she yelled at me when I spray-painted her car, thinking it was Señora Diaz's car.
"She's doing just fine. Just needs to get some rest and she'll be here next week." Devi said, not even looking at me as she said it.
This girl knew something. Her not saying it, was killing me inside.
"Thanks. For the information, I mean." Maybe if I thanked her she would at least give me an answer, but no. She just nodded in return and looked back to the chalkboard, where the other bitch was writing whatever she was writing on there.
Something in my mind told me there was more to this. To why Isabel was in the hospital. That she supposedly fell down the stairs and hit her head. Devi didn't even hold eye contact while she said it. While Eleanor, she just looked completely normal to me.
I couldn't just go to the hospital and start asking the girl questions. She was going to think that I was obsessed with her or something, which clearly, I am not. And I don't think we're that close of friends to actually be asking her about what happened.
Maybe she took brain damage and doesn't even remember what happened. Hitting your head somewhere can cause that.
Once, my mom came home from work so tired that she fell on the floor exhausted. She hit her head, I carried her to her bed and she woke up the next day not even remembering what happened. It would be a normal reaction.
So I'll just spend my day worried if she'll be alright. Totally platonic way.
After the first few periods, me and Shrimp decided to skip our afternoon classes and just hang out. The subjects we had were too boring anyway.
I know that if I continued skipping classes—or just school in general—that I would eventually have to re-do senior year instead of just going to college or starting to work right away.
That's kind of bad, right?
My mom would be so disappointed that I'm not sure if I would ever see my any of my friends or a single ray of sunlight again. She would probably turn into one of those strict moms of the TV shows she loves to watch during the small amount of time she's home.
While mom doesn't know about the drugs, I was basically safe.
And hey, if I did crash this year, next year I would still have some of my friends. For Shrimp, it would be a whole and full a hundred percent sure that he would be held back for senior year, and I would still have some company if I did get held back too.
We still had until the end of the and exams would eventually start by then, so maybe I would actually put more effort on my grades during that specific time. So, while I might actually be held back for senior year, I might actually pass and graduate this stupid high school. I would do it just for mom, though.
Me and—of course—Shrimp were sitting by my car in the parking lot, him handing me a cigar and covering the front of it for me as I slipped the edge between my lips and lit up the other edge as Shrimp covered it for me. Once I did, he pulled his hand away and I inhaled the bitter taste of the smoke before taking the cigar between two fingers and, slipping the thin paper tube out and exhaling the bitter taste of smoke out of my lungs.
Smoking was bad, and I knew that, but it's such a satisfaction to do it that it's so hard to explain why I like it despite the weird taste it leaves on my tongue. A lot of people did it at school and out of it, so why the fuck couldn't I?
"I think you should throw another party." Shrimp broke the silence with his suggestive tone and idea, which I wish he had kept away. I liked to smoke in silence sometimes. He exhaled the smoke of his own cigarette and looked back up at me.
"Why do you think so?" I asked, wondering why he said that he thought I should throw another party. I don't even known when will be the next time my mom won't be home for the whole night again.
"Just...because. Parties at your house are always good. It would be fun if you threw another one. This time, we can put even louder music if you want to."The explanation he gave me looked pretty nice at first, images of loud music traveling through all the rooms of my house being one of my perfect sights to envisionate. Among other ones.
But also, the image of the windows bursting from the intensity of the decibels bursting through the four walls of my house made me turn him down. My mom would kill me if she returned home only to see her favorite wall-length windows shattered on her linen floors.
"Loud music is a no. So everything is a no. I don't even know when is the next time that my mom will spend the night out, man."
"Then just ask her if you can throw a party face-to-face. No lies. Easy!"
"It is a lot of things to ask my mom to throw a party but out of all of them, easy isn't there. My mom hates home-parties. Her words."
"Maybe try asking her nicely. It always works with mine."
"Your mother and mine are two different people, Shrimp," I started, taking another puff from my cigarette and exhaling the smoke right after, "they didn't grow up the same way and they do not have the same parents, and! They weren't raised the same way. So both of them have a different style in living. Your mom might be chill, but mine never will be even when she'll be eighty years old in a retirement home."
"But maybe, just maybe, if you ask her real nice, she will probably say yes!" He insisted, eliciting a groan from me as I threw my head back in annoyance.
As my best friend, I loved Shrimp. We would stick together until death even when we would have kids. Although it was hard to imagine Shrimp married to someone and having kids under his watch. He couldn't even watch over himself.
Not the point.
Even though he was my best friend and I loved him like he was a brother of my own, he tends to be quite annoying.
"Shrimp, I just told you she is going to say no, why do you keep—"
"Bro, just try it! It works like magic!"
Another deep groan traveled up my throat and left my mouth as I was on the verge of just hitting everything that came in my way.
Including Shrimp.
Especially Shrimp.
So I just gave up.
"Fine! I'll do it if you keep insisting!" I groaned, running a hand through my hair and closing my eyes. Everything out of pure annoyance.
"Yes!" He cheered, dropping an arm around my shoulder with a tight grip. Since he was a bit short, my head tilted down to his, "I love you, man."
He kissed my cheek and I jerked back, both disgusted and amused by his move while wiping my cheek with the back of my hands, mimicking dry heaving while he laughed.
It was our games between me and Shrimp. We would often just say random shit and act like it would disgust us, while it was just amusing for both of us.
We would eventually just laugh it off and joke about it with the rest of our friends, but Shrimp had his special space and I'm pretty sure he would have it until... Nah, there is no until. He's staying in his special place until I decide it's over. But I don't even think I will ever give it up. He'll always stay here. Other friends can leave.
The afternoon was a blast. Me and Shrimp walked around town high as fuck, all the weed we smoked and ecstacy we ingested got to our brains and acted out. I'm pretty sure some people filmed us, but who gives a shit anyway? We were on our best highs and we stayed there for a long time before I brought Shrimp back home and headed to my own.
Mom's car was already in the driveway.
Weird.
She usually only came home at 10 p.m. or something close to that.
Shit, I was still high and she would notice it. My eyes were burning and aching, meaning that they were probably red. My mouth smelled like weed, I could still taste it on my tongue. So I decided to confront it and walk inside the house. Maybe she wouldn't even notice.
To my surprise when I walked inside the house, mom wasn't alone. On the couch was sitting a laughing man. Brown hair. Light green eyes. Wide smile.
Next to him was my mom, laughing with him.
"Mom?" The word rolled off my tongue and when I realized what was happening and looked down to the floor, wiping my nose with the back of my hand as a sniff left it. Nothing coated my hand.
I was still high and feeling things that were off.
"Hey, mijo. This is, uh, Antoine. He's my coworker." She said, her voice a bit of a chuckle since she was still laughing.
I don't know why, all that I was thinking traveled all the way up to my mouth and left my throat when the guy waved at me.
"We both know this is not a coworker, ma. It's going to be another guy you're bringing home to fuck." I huffed, finally looking into her wide eyed face as the back of my hand brushed over my nostril.
The man looked at me shocked, too, before I turned to the stairs and started walked up to them. Once I was halfway up into the stairs, I heard my mom excuse herself and run over to me, grabbing me by my wrist before I shook her away.
"What the heck is wrong with you, Ethan? I mean, you come home late, you're red eyed and you smell like smoke and you give me a lecture about who I bring home?" She whisper yelled, her eyes angered and her hand in the air after I shook it off.
"You're one to lecture me about coming home late, ma. You don't stay all night long at work. You stay there so you can get laid." I answered, turning around and walking back up the stairs, not even giving her time to answer me before I walked into my room.
I slammed the door and took off my jeans and my shirt, leaving myself in my white sleeveless shirt as I fell face down on my bed and fell asleep in a blur.
I need a fucking break.