"Clarissa," My dad called to me from down the hallway of our cramped apartment. I pulled an earplug out of my ear and slinked my way down the hall to my dad's room. Crumpled dollar bills, along with pouches of white powder and bottles of multi-colored pills littered the floor of his disorganized room, "You're staying at the Palm Woods until I can find a stable job." I rolled my eyes. The Palm Woods was a fancy hotel complex not too far from here. Ironic how close the slums were to the 'high and mighty' other side.
"And you can afford this how?" I asked bluntly, folding my arms across my chest. Dad glanced at the pills and powder on the floor, muttering curses I could barely hear.
"New supply?" I sighed. My dad was a drug dealer, being in and out of jail since my whore of a mother got pregnant with me. I rolled my eyes. I hated this life, maybe going somewhere new for a while would be good, "I can't believe you graduated college. . ." I muttered mostly to myself.
"It'll only be for a while, I promise," Last time he promised that was when I was seven, nearly nine years ago, when we moved here. Now don't get me wrong, for being an alcoholic drug dealer whose wife left him after she gave birth to his depressive only child, he was actually caring; when he wasn't passed out drunk or selling addictive shit to scumbags who needed to just drop dead and stop wasting oxygen, he wanted the best for me. And leaving him was, inevitably, the best, "The reservation is for six months."
"Sure, whatever you say. When am I leaving?"
"Tomorrow, its about an hour bus ride, and I left a reservation under 'Hans White'," He explained casually. Hans White was his pseudonym for anything legal he had to get involved in, and 'Hans White' was also, in several cases, my 'father'. As soon as I was old enough to understand, he made me memorize my fake identity so I could recite it on command at any given moment, just in case. Deception was often the easiest way to get by. I'd fit in perfectly in Hollywood.
"All right, I'll go pack." With that I stood up and went back to my room, grabbing my cell phone and stuffing a suitcase full of clothes and other necessities. Dad gave me a large handful of cash, which I later counted up to be close to three hundred dollars. Damn, he may be working illegal shit, but he makes a good pay.
"And Clarissa?" He coughed, avoiding my gaze, "I'm sorry this has been so hard on you. Don't forget that I love you." My heart nearly stopped. His voice was crisp and clear, no slur or other indication to suggest he wasn't completely sober. I felt tears in my eyes. No, damn it, this is no time to get soft!
"Dad. . . The last time you told me that, you were drunk on Vodka and high off Adderall," I reminisced, tears stinging behind my mascara-caked eyelashes, "I love you too."
(The next day, Palm Woods, Kendall's POV)
We were all racing to the elevator, slightly damp from our poolside afternoon. Carlos' hockey helmet was perched lightly over his spiky black hair. James was combing his hair back with his black comb he carried everywhere, and Logan was just staring off into space, looking adorable. No, I wasn't gay. Just bisexual. I had know for years; while I had had a few girlfriends over time, including Jo, who broke up with me a couple months back, I had had a crush on Logan for years. But I was never brave enough to tell anyone, especially not Logan.
"Kendall," Logan's voice broke over the rest of the noise in the elevator, "Quit spacing out! Keep it up and there's going to be an increase in the likelihood that you've gotten yourself high." I rolled my eyes.
"You know I'm not," I argued. Carlos cut in the conversation before either of us could say anything else.
"C'mon you guys, let's stop talking about drugs and start talking about one thing we all love!" He laughed, but I sensed a shadow of worry looming in his voice.
"I'm not high," I assured him. We never talked about drugs much, but whenever we did, Carlos would get defensive and tense up. We never asked about it, Carlos just weren't the type of person to go blabbing about his past. It's ironic, really, because now he always say what's on his mind. "Anyway, it's getting late." I commented, glancing at my watch, my eyes darting over to Logan for a split second before I did. I felt some heat rise to my cheeks as I saw him looking over at me. He was really handsome, really cute, and hot damn I just wanted to push him up against the elevator wall and make out with him, but I restrained myself.
"Yeah, we should be getting back to our room for a . . ." James chanted of my comment.
"MOVIE NIGHT!" We all shouted, the shouts melting into laughter as the elevator door glided open to the second floor of the Palm Woods, along with a girl none of us had seen before, wearing a red and grey plaid skirt overtop a pair of baggy black jeans, and a plain black tee shirt. Her hair was dyed blue.
"What's this I hear about a movie night?" She laughed sarcastically. James pushed past me to stand in front of the girl, smiling flirtatiously. James held out his hand to her, and she took it, a small blush coloring her pale cheeks, "I'm Clarissa." She introduced herself and smiled through black lipstick.
"I'm James," James smiled back, finally letting their hands drop.
"Carlos," He nodded, pushing his helmet down on his head before taking Clarissa's hand. He was always braver with his helmet on, always a little bit more secure. Clarissa studied him for a minute before asking,
"Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar. What's your last name?"
"Garcia," He answered. The new girl's face went pale.
"Your. . . Dad wouldn't happen to be a police officer, would he?" Carlos nodded, not seeing the relevance of her question. Maybe Clarissa knew someone he arrested, I thought. Her next comment dismissed the thought, however.
"Yeah, okay. I saw an article in the newspaper about him once," She said with a blank face. I wondered vaguely if she was lying, but I brushed off the thought.
"I'm Kendall," I finally cut in, giving her a bright smile and taking her hand. I studied her face for a second, trying not to seem like I was staring. She was actually quite pretty, and her eyes held dark shadows I could've sworn I had seen before but couldn't for the life of me remember where. Clarissa blushed again, a small shade darker than before.
"Cool," She smiled. Finally, Logan stepped up, introducing himself lightly before turning back to James and the rest of us.
"So, what room are you staying in?" James asked.
"2K," She answered, looking down at her room key.
"Ours is room 2J!" Carlos piped up. Clarissa smiled.
"Cool, so I guess we'll be neighbors," She stated the obvious. Our two apartments were right next to each other, "Now if you don't mind-" She gestured to her bags "-I'd like to unpack."
"Sure," James nodded, "Erm-" He turned to the rest of us "-would you like to come over to our room afterwards to, you know, watch a movie and stuff?" She thought for a moment before answering.
"Sure, sounds like fun! What're we watching?" She asked.
"Fashion Stars Two, return of the Fashionettes," James answered, while a chorus of disapproving jeers burst from behind him.
"How about. . . a hockey movie?" I suggested.
"No, something fun! Like. . . Like, cartoons!" Carlos chirped.
"Uh, no," Logan argued, jeering at Carlos' suggestion, "Something educational." Which then devolved into Carlos and Logan getting into a childish cat fight. Clarissa laughed.
"Well, I got some DVDs, so if you can't decide on anything, I'll choose," She chimed in.
"Okay, cool," I replied, smacking Carlos and Logan upside the head.
"So, see you soon!" And she turned to leave, James staring at her, studying her figure as Logan would study a textbook. He seemed to have quite the crush on her...