Cheek

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I sit up and look at my clock. Morning. Woo hoo…ugh…

May 16th, 1998, Saturday.

I slide my legs off my bed and focus on standing for a few seconds. After my sleepy self gains some balance, I grab a pair of jeans and a bra off the floor and head to the bathroom. Once I get into the hall I look over to see my mom's door open and I see her sleeping, wrapped in sheets. The bathroom door opens and I snap my head towards the figure staring at me.

"Hi….uh…I'm Angelo." The man says as he reaches out a hand.

"Ok." I push past him and close the bathroom door. Ew. He took a shower. Usually they leave before I wake up…and don't use our shower.

After I get dressed I hop down stairs and open the fridge. Nothing. Well nothing good anyways. I grab my house keys and right before I walk out the front door Angelo hops past me and into the kitchen. I watch at him for a few seconds before walking out the door.

Maybe I'll just take a walk around town. I mean…got nothing else to do on a weekend.

The city always looks so weird during the day. The buildings and everything just look better when they're glowing in the dark. I always found life more appealing at night. The cold night air, the moon…everyone's asleep…and everyone who's not asleep is usually as fucked up as you are.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I look over at these group of kids playing street hockey. Well they were. Now two kids are fighting and everyone else is watching.

I need a cigarette.

I grab the pack I had in my jeans, pull out cigarette and stick it in my mouth, searching my pockets for a lighter.

"Fuck…"

"Need a light? "

I whip my head around to see a blond boy, about the same age as me. Also known as Jack Mercer. He and his brothers have a… colorful reputation.

"Yea." I say quietly.

He pulls out a lighter puts in near my face and ignites it. I put my cigarette in the fire and breath in my recent addiction.

"Thanks."

"Welcome." He mumbles as he lights as cigarette of his own.

We both turn are attention back to the fight. We watch for a few minutes, the short kid that started the fight is winning by a long shot. I realized that the "Short" kid was Bobby Mercer. Fighting. Seems about right.

And by the way I don't mean my reputation is any better, I just don't think I really… have… a reputation.

"What are they fighting about? " I ask trying to make conversation.

"Uhm…Who knows." He says shrugging.

Well that didn't work.

"My name's Lydia. Hathaway." I say holding out my hand.

"Jack. Mercer. " He shook my hand and we continued to watch the fight until it was over, which wasn't very long.

Bobby Mercer came towards Jack and I. His nose was bleeding and the blood was dripping everywhere. But he was smiling, proud he won the fight I presume.

"Take that shit outta your mouth." He said as he plucked the cigarette from Jacks lips. "You too." He pulled my cigarette out of my mouth and threw it at the kid he had just been fighting. The bruised and bloody kid just sighed and flicked him off.

"Wanna go for round two, princess ?" Bobby said laughing.

" C'mon Bobby. Ma wants us all home for dinner tonight. We don't got time for this shit. " Their brother Jeremiah said as he headed for their car.

Bobby draped his arm over Jacks shoulders and they started walking to the car too.

"Wait." Jack slipped under Bobby's arms "Lydia, catch!" He said as he threw a light at me. I tried to catch it but it just hit me in the chest and fell to the ground. I picked it up and waved it in the air, Jack smirked.

Well that was fucking embarrassing. I can literally feel my cheeks turing red. Someone kill me.

After the brothers leave I light another cigarette and continue on my little venture. Ah Detroit, a town that seems as truly broken as its inhabitants.

I walk around town, smoking occasionally, until it gets dark and then a little bit after. Eventually I start heading back towards my house .

When I get home I peak through the living room windows, I see my mom laying on the couch watching T.V. . I walk in the house and go to my bedroom. I listen to the radio for about hour or so, singing along to songs I knew, enjoying hearing the ones I didn't. There's nothing better than hearing a really good song for the first time. You never want the feeling it gives you to end. So you sit there trying to grasp this ever fleeting beauty. And miserably fail. I suppose thats what its like to be on drugs. Ha.

Before long the boredom slurps me up and holds me tight.

I don't know what to do. Bored. Smoke. Yes.

I open my window and fiddle with the lighter Jack gave me… I look at the clock which reads 12:43am. I think right now is the perfect time to go give this back. I mean I have found my lighter, so it would be rude for me not to give it back…..Translation: I'm really bored and need to get out of this house right now.

I hop out of my room and down the stairs. My mom is asleep. I can tell because she always leaves the door open and the lamp on. Fourteen years, and I still I have no clue why she leaves the damn lamp on.

I open the door gently and close it gently. It squeaks of course like any door, but usually when I sneak out the front door my mom is passed out drunk or with a guy, so not a lot not a lot of need to worry about sound.

After walking down the streets for about 1 minute I realized how dangerous this is to do by myself. Detroit's not exactly a place you wanna be alone in at 1:00 am. Actually…I don't think any place is. Somewhat referencing back to what I said early, nighttime is for freaks. Loser fated, outcast loving, lonely little, bored drugged up souls. And I'm one of them.

I reach the Mercers house sooner than I expected… most of the lights are off. What am I doing here? Did I really walk around the city for 24 minutes at 1:00am with the intention of giving this boy I met today, who probably won't even remember me, back his fucking lighter ?

Yes.

I sat the lighter on the porch and walk home.

When I get home I sneak into my moms room and turn the light off, the go to my room. Laying in the bed for two hours just staring at the ceiling. I'm so fucking tired but I can't fall asleep.

Pills.

I reach over to my night table (It that what they're called?) and pull out a little box of Benadryl. I swallow four pills and then open two more capsules and snort the powder.

I know it sounds sketching, but it works a lot faster that way.

The sour taste of the powder drips down my throat as my nose starts to burn/ go numb. It's an odd feeling. I decide to smoke as I await the effects of the drug I just abused.

I take my last cigarette and push between my teeth and pat my pants for my lighter. Is it in the bed…no…fuck… I can't find my lighter.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

A/N : Sorry if this chapter seemed kinda rushed, and sorry that I curse a lot and sorry if this chapter was weird or something. Reviews are loved 3 Oh, and the reason this chapter is called cheek is because when I first started writing it and needed a temporary name to save it, someone in the song I was listening to said cheek. Then later on I wrote about how Lydia's cheeks turn red and thought hey, now the name kinda makes sense I guess. Sorry I ramble. ~ R