Prince Charming is a Drug-dealer

I was fifteen. I used to be short and I thought I was little on the heavy side. But it's who I was. I didn't give a shit what people thought or said about me. And this is my story, the fantasy I never believed could happened in real life. I guess I'm the hopeless romantic people pity. The silly girl living for the sole purpose of meeting her Prince Charming, her Mr. Right.
First, I'll tell you about me when I was fifteen. I hated chick flicks; they gave me a pathetic and empty sense of hope that the girls in those movies will be me, finding true love in the most unlikely place. I always had a crush on at least one person, sometimes two or three. Despite all the crushes, I'd only had three boyfriends, all lasting under one week when I was a teenager. I was violent, stubborn, and annoying. Ask any of my old peers, they will agree with me. I grew up with a younger brother and an older sister, so I was often ignored. I enjoyed it, I got away with things, like bad grades in school, or visits with the principal.
I'll start at the beginning of my story, my first day of ninth grade. It was a nightmare. I had started my period (and didn't notice), so I felt like crap, and the blood leaked through my jeans. I got lost and was late for all of my classes. During lunch, my friends didn't have room at their table, and then I tripped in front of the football captain, the hottie of every girl's dreams. Could the day have gotten any worse? I didn't think so, but it did. I ripped my pants when I bent over to get a pencil I dropped when I was in French class.
I went home, and being the emotional train wreck I was, I sobbed for about an hour. I know, it sounds lame, crying over one bad day, but to me, it was the worst day. After some chocolate ice cream and a diet vanilla coke, I felt a million times better. The homework looked so complicated, since I had three advanced classes and work the that I didn't do over the summer. Sensing a late night ahead of me, I pulled out the one thing that helped me calm down, marijuana. It's a bad habit, but I only do it once in a while, like when I feel insane amounts of stress or trauma. After sitting on my roof, smoking, I went back inside to get back to the book report I started a month ago. I worked for hours and when I looked at the clock, it read 3:00am. "Holy crap," I thought out loud. I had finished my homework, but I only had three hours before I had to get up and get ready for school. I got into my school clothes and snuck out my window.
I jogged to meet my neighbor and best friend ever since I moved to New Orleans nine years ago. I weaved in and out of the trees silently, and jumped on him from behind. "Ahhh!" he laughed as he tackled me down, "Wutcha up to Chris? Smells like you've been stressed." I gave him the look I always give him when he references my pot smoking, a threatening glare, masking my smile.
"If it wasn't for you, I would never have started smoking," I retorted with a grin, "I've been okay, shitty day at school, maybe tomorrow I'll skip. How is it in the life of Theodore James?" Then it was his turn to glare, he hated it when I called him Theodore, everyone else who knew him called him TJ. Other than his mom, I was the only one who knew his real name.
I should probably explain about TJ too, since he is one of the most important people in this story, and in my life. He's one of a kind, with a punk attitude, and preppy wardrobe. Weirder than me, but the best person I know. He's two years older than me, and I always thought of him as a brother-like figure. He deals weed, coke, cigarettes, and heroin. He doesn't actually do these drugs, surprising as that may sound. His substance of choice is meth. The meth he makes is so strong, if a person took even a small portion, and they weren't used to it, they'd end up in the hospital. I've only tried it a couple times, and I got sick to my stomach. The only reason my dad didn't find out was because TJ's mom is a nurse, so she gave me some stuff to cure it, after I promised to not do it again. TJ's mom is cool like that; she was like a mom to me, since my mom left when I was five. She had no clue about TJ's dealing or making of drugs, she assumed I got it from a different friend of mine. Anyway, back to TJ. He knew everything about me, except my taste of fairy-tale love, and how much of a romantic I was. I knew virtually everything about him, from his favorite color to his dick size. That sounds bad, I know. But we have never done it, nor have I seen it (and I didn't want to). He told me one time, when I was high, and he was drunk, and asking each other totally weird questions, and taking turns answering them. So that's TJ, or as much as one can learn about TJ from a minute long description.
As TJ and I talked about my day at school, and what he did when he skipped, I started to notice that he was kinda cute. He wasn't a hot football player type of cute, but an Adam Brody type of cute. How does the first day of school and how cute TJ is relate to my story? Oh, it does, it's the real beginning of my story. We talked about what we were going to do the upcoming weekend, and how we both felt like going for a swim. So we did, I took off my capris and tank top, and he took off his shirt and cargo shorts. I glanced at his six-pack, "It's not like you haven't seen me in my boxers before Chris. I know I'm hot, but you can put your jaw up," he joked. I laughed, but it was true, not about him being hot. We've gone swimming several times together before, but I never really noticed how buff he was. I jumped into the water, our secret lake. Both of our backyards were forested, and if a person went back far enough, they'd reach a small swampy area, and in the middle of that was a small lake, or a large pond maybe. Nobody went there except TJ and me.
All of the sudden, I was pulled underwater. Struggling for what seemed like an eternity, I finally was released from whatever grabbed me below and gasped for air as soon as I broke the surface of the water. I turned around to see TJ come up too, laughing. "You asshole!" I shrieked, dunking him in the water. As he came up, still laughing, he looked at me in a way that freaked me out. He looked at me like I've seen him look at his past girlfriends, a look of affection and interest. This look lasted for second, but still, it made me smile. At the same time, it scared the shit outta me. I peered at my watch, "Shit, I'm late!" I swam to the clothes we dropped in the mud, and quickly dressed. I ran through the woods, soaking wet and muddy. I raced down the street, chasing my bus. It stopped and opened its big yellow doors. The bus driver sternly looked at me as I got on. Ignoring the odd glances I received from my peers, I sat down in an empty seat.
When I arrived at school, I went to my friend's locker, opened it, and wrote a note saying, 'Borrowed your English book, I'll give it back after 2nd period. Thanx, Chris.' Since I left my homework on my desk, I copied her notes and raced to class. My dad told me if he got a phone call from the school my first month, I would be grounded for two weeks from the phone, TV, computer, and seeing my friends. When I was in middle school, I got suspended four times, and had nine parent-teacher meetings. The reasons varied from beating up other students to showing up tardy too many times. I sat down as the bell rang, signifying the start of another day in hell.
The second day of school wasn't half as bad, I had a tampon, I had taken Midol, and I didn't have baggy pants to trip on. I sat with my girl friends at lunch, because, surprise surprise, TJ wasn't there. I figure he was off selling drugs, or catching up on his meth-making, attempting to boost the effects of it. At last, the wonderful ringing of the end of school bell sounded throughout the halls. I got up, and ran outside. To my astonishment, TJ was outside, waiting to pick me up. I hopped into his beat up Ford, and he handed me some clean clothes to change into. I changed as he sped down the street, heading to Bourbon Street. "Can I borrow your cell- phone?" I asked him, wanting to tell my dad where I was. He handed it to me without saying a word. I remember glimpsing at him quizzically, normally TJ tells me to make it a quick call. I dialed up my dad's work number, when he answered he screamed, "WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU? I CAME TO WAKE YOU UP, AND YOUR ROOM WAS EMPTY! DO YOU KNOW HOW SCARED I WAS? YOU'RE GROUNDED FOR A WEEK!" TJ, hearing my father's rants, started chuckling.
"Sorry dad, I got up early and went to the store to get school supplies. I just wanted to tell you that TJ and I are going to Mindy's house, and I'll be back later tonight," I lied. TJ looked at me and we rolled our eyes. My dad hung up the phone after grunting an approval. "Hey, where were you at school today? I had to sit with girls today, they talked about the new Mandy Moore movie coming out," I said, breaking the silence.
"I bet you loved that. Yeah, I was perfecting my ice, 'cuz lately I've been tired, staying up late talking to you and all," he distractedly replied, "So, any new crushes I wanna know about?"
"Nope. But there is the hot football captain-" I started to say, but then TJ groaned disapprovingly, "What's wrong with the football captain? I'm just saying he's hot, I'm not saying I like him."
"Every girl in school thinks that, they also think he's their dream guy," he warned, "I'm just saying, don't think he's gonna notice you, or that you have a chance with him, or any of his dumb jock friends." I was confused, TJ had never acted all big-brothery on me before, and now he's practically telling me not to even look at any hot guy.
I shot back, "What's with you today? You're in need of some serious drugs or something, its like you have PMS." I was in a bad mood, and he was too, but I didn't know why. All of the sudden, he pulled over to the side of the road, turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. "What the hell are you doing? We're gonna miss your shipment if you don't hurry up," I shouted, and judging by curious drivers passing by, probably a lot louder than I should have. Then I saw it, for the first time in nine years, TJ was crying. "Look, I'm sorry. I think I'm the one with PMS today. What's wrong?" I apologized. He looked up at me sadly, still crying.
"Mom died, she got in a car accident right after you left for school. That's why I wasn't at school. She found the meth and the money from my dealings. She was so pissed off, and after telling me not do any of that shit anymore, left for work. One of the last things I said to her was, 'Fuck you! I'll do whatever the hell I want, you're so poor that I wanted to make some easy money, so people wouldn't call me trailer trash, like they call you!' After she got hit, as she was dying, I promised her I wouldn't drink or do meth. Then she made me promise not to sell either. So we have to go to Bourbon Street to tell Big Al I'm outta the business," he cried. I stepped out of the car and hugged TJ, I had also started crying.
"I'm so sorry TJ. She was like a mom to me too," I tried to comfort him, knowing that wouldn't do much good. I also realized the danger that would come out of TJ not dealing, "But you do know Big Al isn't gonna let you off that easy, right? He's probably gonna make you still sell. Big Al likes to keep his younger customers." Okay, so it wasn't the best time to bring it up, but I had to. TJ didn't own a gun, and he had nothing to protect himself. Big Al was the baddest drug lord of Louisiana, and once you were buying from him, you belonged to him.
He pulled away and nodded, "I know. That's why I got this," revealing a gun tucked into his pants, "I pray to God that I don't need to use it though." I stared at him, scared for the both of us. I was completely speechless. TJ just ignored my bewildered expression and got back in the car. Ever since I was little, TJ had never been violent, he had sort of a tough exterior, but on the inside we both knew he wouldn't seriously hurt anyone. "Look, I don't really want you to come inside, so just stay in the car. If anything happens to me, just leave, okay?" he cautioned. I was totally freaked out, I didn't want TJ to die, and I sure as hell wasn't going to leave him.
"Fuck no. You're not going to die, and I'm not gonna wait in the car. I'm going in with you, we're in this together," I argued. I didn't expect TJ to argue back, but he did.
"No way in hell am I gonna let you come in with me, even if I have to leave you here," and with that, TJ left me standing on the side of the road. Since when did TJ feel such a strong need to protect me? I hate that confused feeling, and that's what I felt, along with anxiety, fear, and grief. I had so many questions in my head. What's gonna happen if TJ doesn't come back? Where's he gonna go now that his mom is dead? How am I gonna get home? Okay, the last question wasn't really what I was thinking, but I thought I'd add it in for good measure. In fact, going home was the least of my problems.
After walking for about forty five minutes, a truck pulled up next to me. I stopped walking, it was TJ. He had blood on his shirt, the gun was sitting next to him. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?" I began, as I climbed into the car.
"Do I fucking look okay Chris? I've lost my mom, I'm covered in blood, and I just killed a man," he angrily retorted. I gasped. The fearful expression on TJ's face made sense. He was freaked out because he thought that Big Al's henchmen were going to track him down and kill him.
"What?" I asked, wanting to make sure I heard the last part correctly. TJ a murderer? I couldn't even see myself as a killer, and I'm the girl at every school that gets in trouble for carrying a knife, or getting in fights too often. TJ couldn't have lynched someone.
"I don't want to talk about it," he replied, attempting to end the conversation.
"You need to talk about it. What happened?" I inquired. So he told me the whole story, about how he spoke to Big Al in regard to stopping the sales in our area, and how Big Al threatened him with a gun. TJ, having predicted this, fired first, and ran to his car, which he left running. I listened intently, and when he was finished with his story, I noticed that TJ and I were holding hands. I quickly let go. TJ's eyes relayed a distance between us, like he was somewhere completely different. He looked like a stranger, a sad, scared loner.
"Promise me Chris, that whatever happens, you don't tell anyone. Not the cops, not your dad, nobody. From now on, we never speak of this ever again, promise me that, okay?" TJ begged. We both knew that I only make promises I can keep, and if I make a promise, I keep it. He was so scared, and seeing him scared caused me to be terrified.
"I swear on my life I will never tell anyone, or talk about it ever again," I assured him. The rest of the car ride was silent. When we got back to our neighborhood, I hopped out, mumbling a good night. TJ and I were both still thinking of what had happened, though neither of us mentioned it. After that evening, we never talked about what happened. We never even spoke to each other.

Ten Years Later...

TJ went to live with his aunt and uncle who lived about fifteen minutes from my house. I stopped smoking, as if I too had made a promise to Mrs. James to cease my drinking and smoking. After TJ graduated high school, he left for college, a small community college, but it was still college. When I graduated high school, I left to attend the University of Washington for a degree in law. I lost touch with all of my friends, and my family broke down after I left. I never realized that I was the reason we stayed peaceful for so long. I know it sounds conceited of me, but after I went to college, my sister moved away with her new husband, my dad took up drinking, and my little brother joined the Crypts and landed in prison. Years later, my dad said if I had stayed, we all probably would have kept in touch, and my brother probably wouldn't be in prison.
Now I look back at my teenage years, and how much they affected me. I had long forgotten about my friends in high school, my sister and her boyfriend always making out downstairs, and my brother's pitiful attempts to be a ninja and 'kick some butt' as he always said. I never forgot about TJ though, or the many nights spent at our lake, the crazy shit we did when we were on drugs, or getting drunk at parties. I couldn't erase the visions in my head of what he looked like after shooting Big Al, and his mournful eyes when his mom died. I came back to New Orleans because my father called and asked me to come home. My mother was back.
TJ had inherited his mom's house, but I found out that it was only recently he was moving back. When I pulled up into the driveway, I saw a woman who I assumed was my mother, she was standing there. My mother looked just like the picture I used to look at when I was a kid, a perfect smile, and a delicate figure with pale skin and soft eyes. My dad used to always comment on how much I looked like her. Now I see that I do. I have my father's eyes, but my mother's bone structure. I'm still the same height as I was ten years ago, five feet, five inches tall. And I've changed so much since then.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, my mother ran up and hugged me. "You must be Christina. I've missed you so much," my mother cooed. Over the years, I had been able to forget about the hatred I felt for Sandra Parker, but then it all came back. I pulled myself away from her and glared at her.
"If you missed me so much, how come you left? Dad took care of me. He took care of us. You aren't my mother! The closest person I had to a mother died fifteen years ago, it was Ms. James!" I shouted angrily, as tears began to fall down my face. The memories of TJ and my teenage years flooded my mind and overwhelmed me. "Why are you coming back, when I'm all grown up, and living happily in Baton Rouge?" I asked her.
She began to weep, "I'm so sorry sweetie. I left because I got scared, I didn't want to be a mother, I didn't think I'd be good at it. Your sister was already nine, and I didn't want to raise your brother. I couldn't stop his crying, and you, you were always wanting something. The stress got to me, so I took off."
"Bullshit! Don't come here after twenty years and try to blame your bad mother-ing skills on Jacob, Clarice and me! Taking care of children is your damn fault! Ever heard of birth control? Or condoms?" I lashed out. "I never should have come back in the first place." With that, I got back in my car and drove off. I had no idea where I was going to drive to, but after circling the block a few times, I ended up at the house I never thought I'd go back to. I knocked on the door, and a handsome young man answered.
"Theodore? Theodore James?" I verified.
"Who the hell are you? And how did you know my name?" was his response.
"I know more than that TJ, I used to know pretty much everything there was to know about you, probably more. Like how you slept with your teddy bear 'till you were eleven, and the size of your teenie weenie. I know about the many times you went swimming at a small lake in your backyard with the neighbor girl," I hinted.
"Oh my God! Chris Parker?" he exclaimed. I laughed, and we hugged. TJ smiled and said, "Shit, I haven't spoken to you in so long, come in. We have lots of catching up to do." I went inside, it looked so different since the last time I saw the inside of his house.
"Yeah, its been ten years. We haven't spoken since-" I stopped. We both shifted uncomfortably, remembering.
"How about we go back to the lake, for old times sake?" he offered, "Last one there has to tell their life story first. Or at least what has happened in their life in the past fifteen years."
"Oh, you're on! I'll rest while you talk," I challenged.
"Yeah right! You were always the slow one," he joked. And with that, we ran outside, through the woods, and back to our lake place.
"Well, we tied. So that means you can go first," I declared. He clearly beat me, and we both knew it. He grinned.
"Dream on, I beat you by a mile. So you get to go first," he claimed. I looked at him with the same expression I gave to him whenever he said or did something not so nice, but as a joke, when I tried not to smile.
"Fine. Well, I'm a lawyer's assistant in Baton Rouge, because I got my law degree at University of Washington after high school. No husband, no children. A couple short term boyfriends, but that's about it," I summarized, "What about you? What have you been up to in the past decade?"
"Well, I own my own business, an auto shop. I opened it after college. Umm...no wife or kids, several girlfriends, mostly short term. Oh yeah! And I moved back here about eight years ago. Its pretty quiet, haven't really been back to Bourbon Street, or here even since you and I lost touch," he replied. Then, as an afterthought, asked nervously, "Have you kept your promise?"
"I haven't changed so much that I'd break a promise to my oldest friend. What about you? Have you mentioned it to anyone?" I responded. Both of us knew exactly what promise we were talking about, despite the fact that we had both made several promises to each other throughout our childhood.
"Course not. It's still an unsolved murder, Big Al's henchmen disappeared, the body had no evidence of who could have done it. And the police have pretty much stopped trying to figure out who the murderer is," TJ commented. All of the sudden, he leaned over and kissed me. Shocked, I pulled myself away.
"What was that all about?" I asked, as the familiar feelings of confusion washed over me.
"We have known each other for so long, and we've never kissed. I really like you, and I miss you Chris. How come we never went out? For the past several years, I've wanted to ask you out, to kiss you, to be your boyfriend. But I was too shy. Now we've both grown up a lot, and I'm not as shy. Would you like to go out some time?" he confessed.
I sat there for a minute, trying to absorb what he said, and at the same time, try to sort out the mixed feelings I had for TJ. "The day that we stopped talking, I realized how much I liked you, and I hated myself for what happened between us. I was weirded out by the feelings I started having for you, and I had forgotten about them. Until now. I would love to go out with you some time TJ," I admitted. We kissed again.
We've been going out for a few months now, and everything is perfect. I'm moving back to New Orleans, in fact, I'm moving in with him. My mother left after her short visit, and after being yelled at by both my brother and sister; and my brother is being released from prison, he's on parole; but still, life couldn't get any better.

After telling you my story, I wanted to finish on a pleasant note, since this is my fairy tale, I thought this sentence would be most fitting; And we lived happily ever after...THE END