𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓

"Who's ready to party!" Malia screamed while leaning out of the window of her old beat-up car, and I cringed slightly at the volume of her voice, glad that I didn't have any nearby neighbors to hear the racket.

Tasha, a girl that often hung out with us, grinned at me from the passenger's seat.

I gave her a quick smile in return, and threw my backpack into the back seat before crawling in.

Malia pulled out of my driveway, and continued on her way to the campsite through the wooded roadway.

"The boys said they're gonna meet us there," Malia said, directing her eyes towards me for a split second before flicking them back towards the road.

I nodded even though I internally groaned.

Malia and Tasha, I could stand, and maybe even consider friends. But the boys in our 'group', consisting of three childishly immature boys named Eli, Garrett, and Max, I could not stand.

The only reason that I had even acknowledged them was for Malia's sake. She had been dating Eli for a while now, and Garrett and Max were his best friends, so they simply follow along with whatever we do.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Tasha screamed, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

I gave her a huge grin, hiding my true feelings.

No, I thought, this wasn't going to be fun at all.

"Your knuckles are still healing?" Malia mused, noticing the poorly-wrapped bandages adorning my hand as she glanced towards our interlocked hands.

"Yeah," I joked, gazing at the freshly-scabbed wounds littered along my knuckles.

"Well," Tasha snorted, "That bitch definitely got what she deserved. You're totally my hero for what you did."

"Yeah," Malia agreed, "Vera was a total snob the whole school year. You sure taught her a lesson. I just wish it happened sooner than the last day of our senior year."

I laughed along with the girls while we reminisced about our time in high school, like we hadn't just graduated a week ago. I prayed that they couldn't see through my artificial laugh.

I glanced out the window, staring at the azure sky, which was now clear of the clouds that had brought the morning drizzle. The girls continued to chatter behind me, but their voices became muted babble as I spaced out.

I massaged the bandages on my hands mindlessly, remembering back to the day I injured them.

My friends may had seen my fight with Vera as a simple act of reckless teenage stupidity, and I liked to tell myself that too.

But that petty fight was so much more than that. The last day of school, the day of the fight, my pent up frustration and anger concerning my mother and her recent actions had been building up throughout the day, and Vera's snarky attitude was simply my snapping point.

The poor girl, no matter how incredibly snobby and narcissistic, didn't necessarily deserve all of the anger that I had directed at her. She was just simply a scapegoat, something that I could focus my frustrations on.

But I couldn't let my friends know the true extent of my home life, so I continued to let them believe that the cause of my physical confrontation was solely because of Vera's bitchy personality.

The sting of my bleeding knuckles and the few bruises that Vera had managed to give me may have started to fade, but my true problems were still very prominent.

And it was going to take a lot more than a reckless high school fight to fix them.

✧ ✧ ✧

We pulled up to the campsite, a small clearing situated it the woods, which also doubled as a well-known spot for teenage parties, as indicated by the old beer cans strewn across the ground.

I slid out of the car, grabbing my backpack, and picked my way through the trash-strewn ground over to where the boys had already set up the tents, Tasha and Malia following behind me.

The boys stepped out in front of us, their idiotic lopsided grins all the same.

"Ladies," Garrett grinned, giving an overly dramatic bow.

I rolled my eyes at his attempt at being boyishly charming, and stepped away from the group of friends as I heard the girls giggle at his actions.

Throwing my backpack unceremoniously into one of the tents, I turned and made my way back towards the group, repeating to myself that it would likely be frowned upon to punch Garrett in the face every time he made one of his stupid jokes.

"Heaven," Garrett greeted, an up-to-no-good smirk on his face, while Max gave me a simple nod. Eli was already too caught up in making out with Malia to even notice my presence.

"Boys," I nodded curtly, attempting to make my face appear friendlier.

Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. I repeated to myself, determined to remain civil with the world-class idiots.

"Ladies!" Eli yelled, taking a break from sucking Malia's face off, "Let's have some fun!"

His over-enthusiastic demeanor proved that the beer he held in his hand hadn't been his first.

I glanced around at the other boys, noticing that they, too, were bleary-eyed and unbalanced, proving that their sobriety was long gone.

As the boys began passing out drinks, I turned away, making my way over to the makeshift fire ring, where a small flickering flame rose up from the discarded branches the boys had found scattered in the woods. I plopped myself down on a spread-out blanket, trying to warm myself up from the cool summer breeze.

"Hey, Heaven!" Garrett yelled.

I turned my attention towards him, and saw him wiggling a beer at me, his head tilted, offering me it.

I shook my head at him, and he simply shrugged his shoulders, opening it for himself.

It may have seemed strange to my friends, but alcohol has never truly been appealing to me.

I had seen the effects it had on my mother, the way her eyes shined less, like they were nearly dead, and her lack of interest in anything other than a whiskey bottle.

I hated having anything in common with my mother. I couldn't control our similar physical features, like our naturally tan skin tone, and our deep ink-black hair color, but I could control my actions.

And I wouldn't be caught dead dealing with my issues the same way that she had; drinking until she could barely remember her name.

I sighed, stealing a glance over to where Tasha and Malia were cheering on the boys as they raced to see who could chug a beer the fastest.

I returned my eyes to the flickering light of the small fire, regretting ever agreeing to this camping trip.

Was this truly going to be how I feel around people for the rest of my life? Like I was stuck on the other side of a glass wall, forced to look in on other people living their lives careless and happy, while all I could do was look on and pray that one day I could too.