Ocean Eyes
After my chat with dad, I spent the rest of the night curled up in the corner of the room with a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hands. Jack tells me I'm an alcoholic but still manages to keep plenty of booze stalked in the suite. I guess he forgot to remove it. Add it to the long list of other things Jack forgets.
Something about that little conversation and scene we had was extra bad. I can see the stony faces off those goons in the room with us, and hear the stressed tone of Jack's voice. The feel of doom hangs in the air, and it feels like only a matter of time before myself, Jack, this suite, and the whole charade of this Beverly Hills life comes crashing down.
I open up the door to the suite balcony and take a look outside. I'm very drunk now and have to grip the steel barricade for support. I think of all the other real families out there, and wonder what they're doing right now. Normal people are probably sitting down at the table for a meal. They're probably talking about their day and offering each other support. They're not lonely on a balcony with a bottle of hard liquor in their hands, wondering if their dad is going to be killed by the mob, or if he's also one of the bad guys. I fish around in my pockets and find dad's $20,000 dollar check he left me. It's still crumpled up. I open it up and look at it hard. The zeroes on the paper seem to shout at me loser, screw up, and piece of shit. The sound of Jack's voice screams in my ears. Then I see other things. I see me grabbing my favorite book, and sitting in dad's lap so I can read it to him. I see dad teaching me how to ride a bike, and he and mom holding onto both my hands at the park. The green grass underneath my feet made me feel like I was running through a cloud that day. The once happy laughter turns into a deafening sound of silence in my head.
I take the check and rip it up angrily tossing the shreds over the balcony with all my might. The shreds disappear and float away into the night. I grab my bottle again, tossing it back down my throat, and head back inside before I fall off the balcony.
#
The next day I wake up, with the cloud of doom hovering close and dark. I force myself to school, and I'm so hungover, I feel like my brain is swishing back and forth in my head like a wave.
When I get to school it's the regular shit show of ostentatiousness and lunacy. You've got to be drunk to be able to deal with this place.
"Hey Dylan..."
I turn to my side, and Kelly Taylor is walking next to me. I've known Kelly for a long time. She's about as Beverly Hills as it gets. Kelly is just about the most popular girl, in school, and she's known to be quite the party girl. She is sexy though. We flirt back and forth once in a while, and she's always coming up to me asking me stupid shit, every now and then. I can tell she might be harboring a thing for me. I like to humor her, but the truth is I'm not interested.
"Hey Kelly..." She's walking beside me now, as I head to second period.
"So is it true?" Kelly asks.
"Is what true?"
"Is it true, about the girl in Paris. Did you get her pregnant?" she asks bluntly.
I sort of half laugh. Not this again. There's this rumor going around school that I knocked up a girl in Paris. I don't know how the hell it got started but it's only half true. There was a girl from Paris I had a thing with. She was an exchange student. We were sleeping together for a few months in Paris last summer, but then she wanted more, and I didn't. She got upset because she transferred here just for me. She decided to go back to France since I wasn't returning her affections but before she left, she must have told everyone she was pregnant, just to mess with me. She wasn't and isn't pregnant because she still calls me from time to time, and has sent me some naked photos from France.
Instead of getting pissed I answer Kelly's question with another question. "Do you want it to be true?" I ask her playfully.
Kelly stops walking, and just kind of eyes me like a hungry animal. I keep walking to class leaving her in the hall.
Once I'm in my seat, I sigh to myself. I'm so sick of all the rumors, and questions. People act like they see me, but they're not really seeing me. No one is. I flip open my notebook wondering why I bothered showing up at all today.
The teacher Mrs. Peters is going on and on about something that happened a zillion years ago. It all feels irrelevant. Suddenly there's another triangle shaped note being dropped on my desk.
I open it up and it reads, Hey McKay, so when are you and I going to hang out? Michelle
I look up to find that girl Michelle who likes me, giving me an anxious look over her shoulder. I forgot she was even in this class. I'm about to write back one of my flirty non-committal quips, but I stop myself. Maybe it would be nice, to hang out tonight, and take my mind off Jack, and this vault thing. Maybe if I'm not alone tonight I won't spend it getting plastered. How 'bout tonight? : ) Peach Pit 8 o'clock, I write back with a smiley face, but before I pass it up-
"Mr. McKay, care to join us today?" Mrs. Peters says out loud in front of the entire room.
I look up from my seat in the back, to find the whole class staring at me.
I'm not usually a class clown, in fact, I don't offer shit in here most of the time, but I'm still half drunk, and not in the mood for Mrs. Peters shit right now.
"That depends, are you offering?" I ask out loud. The class goes crazy with laughter and hooting. Mrs. Peters turns bright red. I sit back in my seat and fold my arms proud of myself.
"Mr. McKay I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."
"And I'm going to pretend you're not making my hormones happy." The class laughs some more. Mrs. Peters is actually a total TILF (Teacher I'd like to fuck,) and I dig older chicks, not that I would try anything. It's just fun getting her back, for signaling me out. I don't take kindly to authority.
"Mr. McKay if you're not going to take this class seriously, then I suggest you leave now." Mrs. Peters is practically foaming at the mouth with anger.
"But Mrs. Peters we haven't talked about tonight yet?
"Out!" she yells.
I'm happy to get out of here. That will teach her to pick on me again. I fold up my note to Michelle, and pass it up, making sure it gets to her before I leave.
Feeling nice and drunk I strut out of class. There's booze waiting for my back at the suite, and I plan to get to it.
I stop by the bathroom after class since I have to piss like a racehorse. The bell to end second period rings out as I'm exiting the bathroom, and the halls are filled again with Beverly Hills brats rushing through their empty lives.
"McKay, is it true?"
I flip around, and this dude Steve Sanders is talking to me. Steve is like a question nobody asked. I've also grown up with him, but we're not really friends. He comes off like an empty-headed pompous douche most of the time.
"Is what true man?"
"About the girl in Paris?"
I roll my eyes and see other kids also staring at me, and whispering. I don't bother answering Sanders, I just give him a look to beat it. He shrugs his shoulders and walks off. I'm so disgusted I want to puke my guts out right here in the hallway.
It's morning break now, and the perfect time to get out of here. I flip open the doors leading to the quad, so I can hightail it to the parking lot. I'm almost there when something stops me in my tracks completely. It's a girl. A girl I've never seen before. She's sitting on a bench reading. She's actually reading. All around me people are rushing around even bumping into me, but I can't take my eyes off her. She has this dark brown hair blowing in the wind so softly, and she's sitting by herself, with what looks like some kind of novel in her lap. I have no idea who she is. It's not every day you see anyone reading around here, especially a girl like this. She tucks some hair behind her ear, and looks up now, turning her head both ways, but doesn't see me staring at her. She looks kind of lonely, and out of place, but wow she's beautiful. She has these big blue innocent ocean eyes, and her face is framed by these dark bangs. Her legs are crossed, and she's wearing a long skirt with cowboy boots, and this tight black top. She seems totally enthralled in her book. I really want to go over and ask her what she's reading but my legs won't move. What the hell is the matter with me? I'm filled with enough booze right now, that I should be able to go over there, but I can't. Before I can make up my mind, she gets up, and throws her backpack on her shoulder, and starts walking in the opposite direction. The breeze in the air makes her skirt and hair trail in the wind like a scarf behind her. I've definitely never seen this girl before. I would remember if I had. I watch her go longingly wondering why I don't go talk to her. Who is she? She stops walking and actually greets Kelly Taylor, and one of Kelly's devoted followers Donna Martin. They give her some awkward hugs, and they all walk off together. That dark hair is hypnotizing, and I watch her go until I can't see her in the crowd anymore.
