They had all came to a rickety wooden bridgeâjust thick plywood laid over a concrete foundationâover Rainbow Creek, the winding rivulet that doubled back over and over again through the outskirts of campus. On the far side of the bridge, there was a tiny path leading down a steep slope. Not even a path so much as a series of hintsâa broken branch here, a patch of stomped-down grass thereâthat people had come this way before. As we walked down single file, Miles, Jimmy, and Lily each held back a thick maple branch for one another, passing it along until Fleur , last in line, let it snap back into place behind her. And there, beneath the bridge, an oasis. An escape from the shit hole itself, Miles dispensed the cigarettes. Jimmy passed; the rest of us lit up. âCan you believe it? A fourth party already this week which means Iâm getting it in.â Lily said, continuing her conversation with Jimmy. Fleur only smiled, taking a drag as she feels her throat burn, but itâs a sensation sheâs gotten used to, one that she likes. âYouâre coming Fleur, right?â Lily said questioningly and Fleur nodded slowly, tilting her head up as she blew, a puff of smoke following. âWouldnât miss it.â Fleur sat on one of the rocks, looking at the rare duck that would pass by. âHey, did any of you get the trig work done? Because I donât understand shit, and Iâm failing.â Miles muttered, as if it were the least of his worries. No one answered, except her. âYeah, Iâll help you out. Maybe if you werenât such a moron, youâd actually do well.â
Fleur took a last drag, throwing the cigarette into the pond and brushed her palms against her jeans. She had class, but skipping wouldnât hurt anybody. At least this time it was for educational reasons instead of screwing or getting high behind the bleachers. They all followed her out, and Miles and her headed to McDonaldâs before getting back to school grounds. We ordered six large french fries to share and then went outside and sat on the lawn. We sat in a circle around the trays of fries, and Fleur began to teach him the trig lesson, smoking while she ate. She smoked and talked and ate for an hour without stopping, and Miles scribbled in his notebook the ratios, and angles making sure he understood. But Lily and Jimmy bickering didnât make it easier. âStop, Iâm lost.â Fleur rolled her eyes, putting out the cigarette as she twisted it into the grass. âUgh, thatâs cause you have the brain capacity of a fucking teaspoon.â Miles sighed, âYou know, apparently heroine and marijuana makes you function better. Not those stupid cigarettes your always smoking.â Fleur only smiled, taking a sip of coke and shrugged. â I may die young, but at least I can say Iâm smart. Back to work.â She tapped the notebook. Fleur licked her lips and they stay like that for a bit. Once the bell rung they headed back to class.
It was absolute misery, having to sit and listen to Mrs. Winthrop whine about the Renaissance and the romantic period. Because at one point it led to love, that led to men which meant sheâd bitch about her boyfriend who cheated on her. You wouldâve thought she wouldnât quite announce it but she does, and she makes it clear to every boy that itâs something they shouldnât do, if anything it becomes a lecture. So, halfway through Fleur raises her hand and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and thatâs code for a smoke. She saunters down the hallway, heading to the back doors towards the bleachers. Fleur seeâs a few people making out back, others getting high. She pulls out her pack from her back pocket only to realize sheâs got no lighter. Fleur makes some conversation with a few guys, borrows a light and one thing leads to another and sheâs busy making out with James. His hips practically pressed into hers as their mouthâs ravage against one another. Fleur suckles on his lower lip, a faint moan surpassing her lips. Yet itâs the sound of Melanie Trope screaming at her boyfriend that gets her to stop. Everyoneâs head snaps towards them, sheâs busy shouting about how he was screwing some other girl. Fleur rolled her eyes and waved bye to the group. And just as she turned around she saw him. God, sheâd rather die and strangle that boy. She hated him, and it wasnât like she could turn around sheâd have class and Winthrop would be on a hunt to find her. Fleur glares at him, rolling her eyes in annoyance at his very presence. âWell, well. Isnât it the fucking spawn of Satan. So, why is it that you cease to exist?â Those who didnât know them would be afraid and appalled to hear such a thing, and those that knew them found it all the more amusing.