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CHAPTER ONE
Journal entry: Sometimes, your inner freak awakens in inappropriate places.
Freedom,the power or right to act, speak, or think how one wants. To not be enslaved to another.
I never truly thought about what freedom means. Sure, I’ve written essays on it, but never for my own thoughts. I’ve written about what freedom in this country means. I mean, we all have. But have I truly thought about what freedom means to me? No. No, I haven’t. Because I’ve never had mine taken away.
But as I sit here in my car, staring at my high school on my first last day of school, the word is like a neon sign in my head, lighting up over and over again.
Freedom. Is there truly such a thing? We’re enslaved to our jobs, our grades. Enslaved to the expectations of our family. A hostage to money, to the bills we must pay. Even those with no responsibilities are slaves to something as well. The people who backpack across the country are enslaved to weather conditions. Homeless people are enslaved to the basic need to eat. As people, we are all enslaved to something. I could go on, like how addicts are victims to their addictions, or street children are vassals to surviving, but I have personally never seen any of that. I’m quite sheltered from the struggles of day-to-day life.
When I walk across the stage in May, diploma tight in my grip, hat soaring through the crowd as we cheer, my first right of freedom is granted. But I can’t help the feeling that maybe it’s a trap.
A knock on my window has my eyes jerking from the orange-red brick building to the sound. Jake, sweet, caring, loving Jake, presses his forehead to my window, sandy brown hair wet and curling from his recent shower. Brown eyes, a deep melted chocolate. Plush lips tipped into a smile, forcing his two identical dimples to poke out of his cheeks. Jake’s aura is addictive, like a euphoric warmth that spreads over your body. He himself is contagious.
And my boyfriend.
I smile, pressing the button to lower my window. Jake pokes his head through, a gasp parting my lips as he bends down and kisses me. Pulling back, his fingers tug on my bow. “You ready for today? Last first day of high school.”
I smile, pulling down the visor and flipping the mirror open, my hands carefully placing the bow back into place. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” The truth is, I’m not ready. Jake, as amazing as he is, is a morning person. I, however, am not. Catch me any other time of the day and I’m basically Strawberry fromStrawberry Shortcake,happy with a smile always planted on my face. But mornings? They always feel like a red flag.
I grab my lipstick, a red to complement my red-and-navy-blue plaid skirt, and apply it carefully. Red stains like a bitch, and the chances of fully getting it off my skin is highly unlikely. So, I must apply it carefully. My shirt is white, a pearl button at the top to bring the colors together. My style is preppy, I love dressing up. I would make fashion my whole personality if I could.
I flip the visor up, grabbing my leather backpack and my coffee. My hands twitch to put my headphones in, to avoid all thingsmorning, but Jake and his charming smile and dimples, holding my door open for me, has me caving, taking a deep breath in order to conquer the world.
As soon as my heels hit the payment, Jake throws his arm around me, pulling me flush to his side. “I can’t believe we’re almost done with this place. Free from the controlling world of high school and parents.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if he’s ever thought about what freedom actually means, but instead I say, “I don’t know, my mom’s pretty chill. And I don’t hate our school.”
There are classmates leaning up against cars most dream to own, but unfortunately, never will. Some of them being obnoxiously loud for seven-thirty in the morning.
“Really?” Jake muses. “I kind of wish my parents put me in public school, private school is so basic, uncultured.” He grimaces as a cup of coffee flies right in front of us, barely missing me.
“Yeah, but at least we don’t have to wear uniforms like most private schools.” Which I’m so grateful for. Imagine not being able to reflect yourself through your style? Gross.
“Which is a crime. Plaid skirts? Stockings? Sounds like a good time to me.”
I smack his stomach lightly, his hands capturing mine before I can pull them back. He brings them to his mouth, biting my thumb, and why does that… make my stomach all warm and fuzzy? Do I maybe want to be bit? I don’t know. Jake and I, we’ve only kissed so far, a little foreplay, but maybe I’m ready for more.
We enter the big glass doors, a buzzing energy in the air. High ceilings, marble floor a deep brown color with light swirls of cream through it. The lockers are a deep clover green. It smells the same as it has for the past three years. A light scent of bleach mixed with pencil shavings and old dusty books. I set my bag in the crate, using my student badge to scan myself in, then the guard gives me the luxury of walking through the scanner. Preston Boyd Preparatory School is high on security. One of the safest schools in the state. The guard nods at me, telling me I’m free to get my things and get the hell out of the way. I grab my things, stepping to the side to wait on Jake, who grins as he grabs his belongings, walking over to lace his fingers with mine.
People greet us, waving and asking about summer. I’m not usually rude but I can’t find it in me to pretend I’m happy to be socializing this early in the morning. Finally, we stop across from my first class of the day, math. Jake wraps his arms around my shoulder, bringing our noses flush as he leans us into the wall. “Want me to come over after school?” he asks.
I brush a strand of hair off his forehead, rubbing my nose against his. “Yeah, I’d love that.”
He grins, eyes going over my shoulder, watching something. “I got to go, but I’ll see you in government.” He kisses my cheek, walking past me to high five Josh, the caption of the baseball team. A dreamy sigh leaves my lips, but I’m being interrupted by the bell.
I walk in, choosing the desk in the corner for the year as Mrs. Williams walks in, all bright smiles and clapping hands like being here is the best thing ever. “Okay, mathematicians, it’s never too early for some college equations!”
It is, in fact, too early for all of this, Mrs. Williams.
* * *
Today hasn’t been bad.Not spectacular or anything, but definitely not bad. Except for maybe lunch. Sitting with Jennifer, Veronica, and Macy is mind-numbing. I love celebrity gossip as much as the next girl, but not the part where they judge without having all the facts. My friends—and trust me, I use that term lightly—are kind of bitches. They’re cruel and opinionated. We have nothing in common except for being pretty. And for some reason, that means we must be friends. Social norms suck.
I’m on my way to government—kill me now. It’s not that I think government is not important, I know it is, but I despise all things government. I won’t lie, the hype about the new teacher does bring me a certain level of curiosity.
I walk through the door, my heels halting, my heart… is it beating? I’m not sure, because right in front of me is the most desirable man I’ve ever seen.
