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“Freaks like you should die!”
A nameless jock shouted as he pushed Juicy Pinefield to the tiled floor. He scrambled up, his elbow scraped and his pride hurt. He looked back at the jocks before rushing to pick up his various spilled books and papers, which he was carrying from his locker to his backpack before these assholes showed up. The three jocks were laughing viciously, puffing up their chests with pride as they guaffed at him. That made Juicy’s heart sink. What the hell were up with these guys? All he did was exist as the uncoolest loser freak ever. Just because he was a loser freak didn’t mean he wasn’t bullying material. He wasn’t particularly responsive to the threats and physical abuse, just confused on why it was happening in the first place. Besides, what was the school going to do? Call their parents? Suspend them? He’s seen the treatment of Karl to understand that wasn’t enough to stop anyone.
A crowd of students gathered to witness the public humiliation. Beads of sweat ran down his face as he tried to pick up his papers faster. Just as he was reaching to pick up his Physiology homework, the same nameless jock who pushed him stepped on it.
“Where do you think you’re going, retard?” He grinned, enjoying the bask of his fifteen minutes of fame.
“Juicy!” A female voice call out to him. “Run!”
He couldn’t recognize the voice, nor did he find that particularly important right now, but he did as he was told. After miraculously finding strength return to his legs, he made a run for it, the papers in his hands flying through the halls as he dashed out the courtyard to the front of the school and eventually down the road. His lungs burned and his core felt like jelly mixed with anxiety but he had no choice unless he wanted to be a target for them. Although it was probably too late.
Before he knew it, he was at the 7/11 two blocks from the school and a mile from his house. He took in deep pants, his heart beating out of his chest before anxiety blurred his vision for a moment too long. His 3D glasses had fallen off so that should’ve meant he could see clearer but he couldn’t. He dropped his books, choking up as if he couldn’t breathe and he kneeled over, praying some stranger would take pity on him and ignore him as he tried to recover from some kind of attack.
“Juicy?” He heard a voice say. All the voice did was send a new surge of anxiety down him and it makes him let out some kind of choked sound of acknowledgement. The person kneeled next to him and a straw is brought to his lips. He sucks and it tastes like grape slushie. Some relief is brought to his burning lungs and he coughed, knowing there’s only one person who orders grape slushies at 7/11.
“Itchy,” He choked out. The straw was brought to his lips again and he drinks, finding more relief. Despite it all though, he’s still smiling and trying to give his brother a reassuring look.
“Breathe,” His older brother says, rubbing a soothing hand on his back as Juicy inhaled deeply, and then out, like exercises Itchy complained his therapist makes him do. Eventually, Juicy can see and breathe again, still shaking but thankfully alive. He raised his head from his kneeled position and looked up at his brother, signalling that he’s fine now.
“The hell are you doing here, Ju?” Itchy grumbled as he stood up, placing one hand in his pocket and using the other to bring the cup’s straw to his mouth. “It’s 8:45. You never skip school,” He took a sip of his grape slushie. Juicy’s smile wavered again before he laughed. Itchy watched him very closely, eyes squinted as he sized Juicy up, looking deep in thought.
“I dunno honestly!” The past 20 minutes felt like a blur, so he wasn’t exactly lying. If Itchy wasn’t convinced, he didn’t say anything about it. He looked away from his brother.
“Well, whatever. I’m still gonna ditch. You can come with me if you want. I don’t suggest it if you’re gonna snitch,” Itchy’s monotone demeanour returned as he turns his back on Juicy. While Juicy didn’t feel thrilled at the thought of missing his classes, he still wanted to avoid the jocks a little more. Plus hanging out with his favorite brother was never a bad idea.
“Well, if I snitch, we’re both fucked. So, I’ll follow you!” His smile widens as he picked up his dropped books and dumped them in his backpack, which was open because he didn’t finish putting his books in there. He struggled to fit them all in for a second before deciding to leave the bag half zipped.
“That’s not what I meant,” Itchy sighed as he started leading Juicy to a shortcut into the woods. Juicy followed, noticing a tree that look familiar and the path smelling of his childhood. The walk is silent as the two made their way on the dirt path. Eventually, they make it to some kind of riverbank, the water glistening and a feeling of nostalgia swam over him.
“Hey, isn’t this where we would mess around with the fish?”
No response.
“Hey Itchy-” he was interrupted by the sound of a lighter and the smell of something earthy and grassy. He looks over at his brother to see him lighting what he thinks is a joint. He let out a loud and overdramatic gasp as Itchy took in a deep inhale before he exhaled the smoke. Juicy paused for a moment before he turned to face his brother.
“Itchy, I’m going to scream,” Juicy says, his eyes had turned cat-like with his lips pressed into a tight line.
“Uh… don’t?” Itchy looks more confused than anything, a possible side effect of the drug. Juicy looked at him before looking at the joint in his brother’s hand.
“Is this what you do when you skip school? How do you even get that shit?”
Itchy exhaled, smoke coming out of his mouth and nose. “Yep, this is what I do. And I’m not telling you my ways,” He grinned, his sharp teeth prominent.
Juicy can’t help but stare as the two made their way over to the edge of the rocks and sat down. He’s never seen anyone do any kind of drug in front of him. Maybe he had some candy cigarettes as a kid but that was it. And for the first one to do that was Itchy, of all people. I mean, in hindsight, it made sense. He was kind of crazy and goth. Where’d he even get the stuff? And what was it like? Juicy had a million questions in his head, all of which he couldn’t understand. Not until he tried it himself.
Itchy must’ve noticed him staring because he coughed awkwardly and looked at him, shifting so one of his legs were open towards Juicy. “You wanna try it?”
“Eh?” Juicy looked up at him before looking at the blunt, before at him again. “Try what?”
Itchy looked down at his joint and then at Juicy before making an “are you stupid?” face. Juicy sweats nervously. It’s not like he didn’t want to try it, but something made him nervous. He didn’t want his inexperience to make him seem uncool. Itchy seemed to know his true feelings, either by telepathic twin stuff or by the way Juicy reached out for it but stopped and then started again. In the end, he ends up shoving the joint and lighter in his hands.
“Light it up, then inhale, wait for a bit, and then blow it out,” Itchy instructed. Juicy nods and brought the joint to his mouth before he lit the other end with his lighter. He inhaled very deeply. So deeply that Itchy’s eyes widen after a few seconds, then he waits. The burning sensation in his lungs was akin to the panic attack he had earlier and he coughs soon after, a slight buzz being felt in his core. Not particularly strong but oh well.
“There ya go,” Itchy grinned, his eyes having a fond feeling in them. “Give it here,” Juicy does as what’s told and Itchy mimics his inhale. He had the experience to blow out longer than Juicy lasted but he coughs all the same. It seems to hit Itchy harder though, who smiled with a dazed look.
“So,” Itchy started before he paused for a moment.
“So?” Juicy looked at his brother as he took another hit.
“Why’d you have that panic attack and run away?” Itchy asks as he rubbed the joint in between his fingers.
Maybe it was his slight buzz or the fact that Itchy was his best friend and brother but Juicy responded seriously this time. “Some dude called me a freak and retard,”
Itchy hands the joint to Juicy who gladly takes it and inhales. Juicy looked over to his brother, who’s eyes were squinted and looking at his feet. He was tensing and untensing, looking around as the silence between them grew. Itchy was never good at saying what he was thinking, Juicy had learned after being best friends since birth, but what he was good at was saying something insightful once in a while. Juicy stared back at his brother, hoping that this was one of those moments.
“You kinda are a freak, though,” Itchy says. Juicy laughed mid-inhale and a cough mixed in with it, the burning in his lungs making him grab his brother’s slushie.
“You’re not supposed to say that!” He half scolded, half laughed as he sipped the slushie, the ice from it half melted and leavingt the best sweet syrupy drink that Juicy savored. When Juicy offered his brother the drink, he shook his head.
“It’s the truth though,” Itchy shrugged,” You’re a freak, I’m a freak, we’re both freaks,” He paused again. “But, you know, freaks like us have to stick together, so they can skip school and smoke joints,” Itchy gave him a smile, a real smile, then stared out at the water and the shiny rocks underneath it. Juicy grinned before he handed Itchy the joint, most of it still left. Itchy pocketed it and the lighter in the inside of his bag and the two stared out on the water together, laughing at nothing and everything at the same time, like the freaks they were.