Illicit (phan)

2 - Present

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It had been a tough morning for me. I was conflicted between being happy that I was finally leaving this degenerate town, feeling guilty that I was lying to everyone and being worried about what would happen if Harvey found out that I wasn't going to Springfield. But I supressed my emotions. I hadn't spent years annoying Harvey and trying to get kicked out for no reason.

I'd already said goodbye to my friends and Calvin the day before and this morning I'd said goodbye to my parents. As soon as they left for work, I was ready to go. I carried my suitcase and backpack out, humming as I looked at the street of houses where I'd lived for my whole life. I guess I would miss it a little.

I had been so busy taking in my surroundings that when my eyes finally landed on Phil I jumped in surprise. He was casually leaning against my small silver car; the simple sight made me want to throw up. He was wearing a blood red tank top and tight black jeans. It was unfair how good being tall looked on him, while I knew it would make me look like an awkward noodle. His hair was mussed as if he'd gotten ready in a hurry. But what caught my attention most was the cut on his bottom lip that looked like it was on the verge of bursting open, his bruised, swollen left eye and the long cut that ran down his forearm. I gulped. "Did you come to give me a goodbye kiss, afterall?"

He gave me an icy glare, before leaning down and picking up the backpack that lay at his feet. "I'm coming with you."

"To Springfield?" I asked, feeling anxiousness gnaw at my entire body.

"No, to Hell," he answered sarcastically. I almost smiled.

"Well, that's the final destination anyway, right?" I said, attempting to make him smile. A smiling Phil was much less likely to punch me in the face.

"Were you planning on leaving today?" He asked sarcastically, signalling me to stop rambling.

I rolled my eyes, unlocking the car and piling my bags in the back. He chucked his backpack on top, before slamming the boot closed. "Wait, you're being serious?" I gave him a bewildered look.

"Are you going to shut the fuck up and drive or do you need convincing?" He asked, looking at his old house next to mine. His mother and Harvey still lived there, and he came to visit sometimes.

"No, I'm good," I muttered, getting into the drivers seat hurriedly. I knew exactly what type of convincing Phil meant. The car rumbled and shook as I started it, adding to my growing worry. Already my day had gone to shit. I had the faintest suspicion that Harvey had sent Phil to make sure that I went straight to Springfield. Afterall, I knew getting away would be too good to be true.

What was I going to do? When Phil realised that we weren't going to Springfield, he would tell Harvey, who would find some way to make me suffer. Suddenly I was having murderous thoughts. Phil was about to ruin everything I'd spent the last few years working towards.

I shook the thoughts away and pulled out the driveway, actually driving below the speed limit for probably the first time in my life. I wanted to prolong this journey as much as possible.

"So, those cuts, are they from the guys from yesterday?"

"They look a lot worse than me," he answering with a small smirk, flexing his fingers.

I didn't doubt it for a second; Phil had been getting into fights for years, he'd probably learnt exactly what to do and where to hit. Suddenly, I had a darker thought. "Wait, they're still alive, right? Please tell me they're alive."

He laughed, but that just scared me more.

"I swear to God, if you're skipping town because you killed someone—"