"Presley get your ass up! You're going to miss your bus!" Screamed my mother, slapping my ass twice. I ground and shoved my head further into the pillow.

"Zeke is picking me up."

"What?" Obviously she couldn't understand the pillow people talk so I tilted my head slightly.

"Zeke's picking me up, I'm not taking the bus."

"You are not getting into a moving vehicle with that delinquent driving it."

"Would you stop reading on him. He's my boyfriend and it's time that you accept that." I yelled, she did this every time that the subject came up. I grabbed my clothes out of my dresser and went into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to wake me up completely.

See, Zeke and I had been dating for almost three years, he was repeating his senior year because he didn't get his credits last year. He's not dumb, just doesn't like school. My mother didn't approve of him for many reasons. Mostly because of the relationship that he has with his parents. They hate him and aren't afraid to admit it. She also came to school once, and saw him making some 'sells' from the back of his car and reported him to the principal's office. Time and time again she told me that I could do so much better, but truth was, I couldn't. There was just something about him.

I pulled on my black jeans and one of his old wife beaters that I had taken from his house. I pulled on my converse and brushed my hair and teeth. I wasn't ugly, I just wasn't one of those girls who loved to drench themselves in make up and look like a melted paint canvas.

"Presley! Your drop out excuse for a fuck toy is here!" Called my dad, and yes, he was worse than my mother when it came to my life.

He thought that I was a slut because he had caught me sneaking out to stay at Zekes house while his parents were away, and him in my room. But then again my dad has always hated me, for reasons that I never knew.

I exited the bathroom, grabbed my book bag, and ran down the stairs as fast as I could, my golden hair flowing behind me as the oak door shut before my father could say anything else.

I tossed my bag into the back seat and climbed into the passenger side.

"Morning babe." He said, gently grazing my cheek with his hand, wrapping it around my neck before gently kissing me on the lips. It was strange, we had been like this for almost three years and he was still gentle with me. Almost as if he was afraid that I was going to break at his touch. And it was sweet. I grinned into his lips as I kissed him back.

"Come on, I gotta make one quick stop before school. You don't mind if we're late?" He asked, slowly pulling away from me, lacing his right hand with mine in-between the seats and gunning the pedal, leaving burn tire marks on the street along side of many others.

"Have I ever?" I asked and he smirked.

The stop was on of his dealers that he bought some of his ingredients from. I didn't mind him making the scat, as he called it, because he wasn't stupid enough to actually do drugs himself. He put the brown paper bag into the glove compartment before turning around for school.

Surprisingly we weren't late and were just in time to see all the morning rituals of Herrington High start to take flight. The jocks and steroids addicts were already running poor Casey into the flag pole for the second time this week, and it was only Thursday.

Casey was the school's Stephen King. A little on the creepy side, but a 100 nerd. He did the photography for the Hornets Nest The school paper, and was one of the hundreds of students who thought that they were doomed to be an outcast the rest of their lives. I didn't really talk to Casey, I didn't really have anything in common with him so didn't see the need. But I did feel sorry for him as I watched them slam him, dick first, into the flag pole a few more times before dropping him to the ground.

Just a little ways from him was the cheerleader group, lead by Delilah, covered in hairspray and make up, probably planning what to do with their new boobs during tomorrows pep rally. Delilah was the girl that every girl wanted to be and every guy wanted to date. She was fake and stereo typical to the social order of our high school. One thing that I learned is that as long as you stay away from her and don't insult her new nose job, she won't make your life at Harrington High a living nightmare. I saw Stanley the star quarter back wrap his arm around her and try to kiss her, but she said something to stop him. Oh well, they would date as long as he was the quarter back and she was the head cheerleader. And if it wasn't for that I doubt that they would even be together.

As I climbed out of Zekes car he wrapped his long arm around my short body and guided me into the school. On the way we passed Stokely, the school Goth/lesbian. She and I were friends at one point, but then she just didn't want to be any more. It hurt at the time, but I was far over that. She preferred to be on her own, except from what I've heard, she does hang out with violent lesbians. But I don't know if that's true or not because I haven't spoken to her since the 7th grade.

There were about 4,000 students in my school total. About 100 break ups and pregnancies a day more or less all lies for attention and always a faculty member down someone's throat.

Today was no different that any other day, from how it started, and would probably been that way for the rest of the week.

Zeke and I walked around the halls, passing all the couples making out, fighting, or just basically trying to get as close to fucking one another without getting caught. Naturally teachers learned to avoid this kind of conflict with most students, because they always got their pay back, that the teachers just wanted to make it through the day without having to write more than 10 students up. I left him at his locker to go to my own for a minute to put my bag away before joining him in the old bathroom on the ground floor where he did most of his "business" in. He handed two guys their brand new fake ids along with a complementary sample of scat. As soon as they walked out I leaned against the wall and looked over at him.

"You look like you've never seen me deal before." He said, walking to me and placing his hands gently on my waste.

"Nope, just those guys don't seem to know what they're getting into with your stash."

"Oh well, their minds could use a bit of a break." He said, lowering his forehead to rest on mine.

"You know what we haven't done in a long time?" I asked, leaning my head so that my lips were almost touching his.

"I think I have a good idea." He whispered, gently taking my lips in his own as he lovingly pulled me against him as I placed my hands on his shoulders. I tilted my head as his tongue started to caress mine just as the door opened, bumping into my elbow as causing me to gasp at the new bruise that was forming.

I glanced over to see who it was. . . Casey, with a bloody nose. Zeke looked like he was about to go off on him, but I grabbed his hand and started pulling him out of the old bathroom.

"Come on." I hissed still pulling him down the hall a little ways.

"I'm fine. Presley, did he do that to your arm?" He asked, taking hold of my arm and grazing his fingers over top of the red mark that was there.

"It was an accident Zeke. He didn't mean it. He may be a geek but you don't need to beat the shit out of him for bumping into me. I'm fine baby."

"I'm sorry Pres I just get."

"Over protective. I know. That's one of the things that I love about you."

He smirked as we walked to English 12 with Miss Berk, the quiet, flirtatious teacher who would gladly seduce any guy if they gave her the chance. That meant Zeke too.