Teenage Dream

Chapter One

Anthony’s POV
May 19th in 2004 was the most epic day that year. Or so Ian and I thought. Or the rest of the juniors in our school thought. Okay, basically everyone at our high school thought. It was the last day of school, and because Ian and me were total slackers, we didn’t have any summer assignments like the smarter kids did in their dumb Honor classes. I drove us to my house in my new but crappy used blue car, always saying how one day I would be driving a Ferrari or Jaguar. Ian was singing a made-up song about the last day of school while I could hardly stay under the speed limit on the road, both of us excited as hell. “Anthony, we gotta do this next year, too.” I nodded eagerly, going 45 when the speed limit was 25 in my neighborhood. “Yeah. And I still have some papers from freshman and sophomore year. We’ll be busy next year when we graduate. Not going to college but having this much fun. I can’t-oh!” My foot slammed on the break when I nearly rammed into the closed garage door of my house. My car went from 45mph to 0 in a second. Ian and I just laughed from my recklessness before we jumped out and took our heavy and stuffed backpacks inside my house then out to my backyard. The shit we were about to get away with was all thanks to my mom not being home that day.

Ian unzipped both our bags as I went inside to get the cigarette lighter, skipping outside and grabbing the lighter fluid by the barbeque. Ian took the fluid and poured some of it into the big metal trash can we “found” in a dump we “went” to late at night. It was thick, heavy, and as tall as our waists, perfect for the awesome shit we were about to do. I slid one piece of my now useless schoolwork out of my backpack, put the lighter under it, set it on fire, then carefully dropped it into the home-made bonfire, flames shooting up from the large amount of lighter fluid Ian dumped into it. “Awesome!” He shouted, high-fiving me as heat poured over us. “Burn it, Anthony, burn this shit!” At the same time we dug our hands into our backpacks, grabbing several pages of homework, essays, notes, and dumb handouts we hardly read during the school year. The flames devoured what we threw in, snatching our hands back as the fire tried to burn us. I had another handful of schoolwork in my hands but waited as Ian held out one of his essays he typed. “Farewell, essay on the French Revolution I got a D on. Mr. Rodriguez, fuck you and I want you to know…” He dropped the paper into the bonfire, putting his right hand over his heart with a smile. “I didn’t learn a damn thing in your English class.” We laughed and I threw my papers in the growing fire, excited and feeling like a badass.

“Yeah, fuck you Ms. Martinez! I didn’t do most of your homework because I knew it wouldn’t make me learn shit! Now watch it burn, woman!” Our burning papers crackled in the bonfire, getting replaced with more school stuff we tossed in, cussing out our teachers and commenting on the work we did throughout the school year. We didn’t care that our hands and arms were hot from getting too close to the flames; as long as we showed that we were done being juniors we were happy. “Gave me an F on my drawing in art class? You don’t appreciate my zombie dancing to Thriller? Well fuck you and your high standards!” Ian slammed his okay-looking drawing into the fire, fiercely shouting: “Art-is-art!” Our backpacks were nearly empty soon after we started; who wouldn’t get out of hand when destroying stuff you hated? “Bam!” Ian screamed as he stood far away from the bonfire then ran up, using both hands to launch a bunch of schoolwork into the fire, flames shooting up, licking up every piece he threw in. “Fuck-Junior-year-we’ll be Seniors-then we’ll be…done!” The last big handful of dumb schoolwork in my bag went flying into the bonfire, me finally taking a big breath in, somewhat of a bad idea since black smoke was inhaled into my lungs.

While I was hacking up hot smoke from my throat violently, Ian shouted: “Yeah!” the last of his stuff gone. When I could breathe again, I tossed in my pencils, markers, highlighters, erasers, and the pennies, nickels and dimes that accumulated in my bag over the year. I was about to toss in my black sharpie but Ian stopped me. “Dude! Sharpies are badass. Draw a curly Mexican mustache on me.” It was true. Sharpies were the shit. He repressed a grin while I slowly drug the marker across his upper lip, stepping back to inspect my work when I was finished. Pretty good. I handed the marker to him. “Give me a handle bar mustache.” I told him, trying not to laugh while the marker tickled my face. Ian stepped back and chuckled. “You look like you could be a German boxer in the early 1900s.” Then he turned back to the bonfire giving off black smoke, his smile fading away. “We gotta get rid of this now that our stuff is burned.” He helped me fill two buckets full of water from the kitchen sink, us pouring it into the fire. The black smoke turned to gray and enveloped our faces in heat. “Damn!” Ian coughed a few times then poured the rest of the water over the smoldering ashes, the sizzling fading down when the fire was put out. Sure it was probably illegal to have a bonfire in the backyard, but we were going to get rid of it right then.

The hard part was moving the big thing, having to use oven mitts just to grab onto it since the metal was hot. We dragged it out to the front of my house, dumping the wet ashes and water into the plastic trash can on the curb ready to be picked up and emptied that day. My mom wouldn’t be home until 9PM, so we just put the metal can inside the big trashcan, sure that the garbage men wouldn’t mind taking it with them. We high-fived then went back to my yard, the air hazy and smelling of smoke. We took our empty backpacks into my room, still smelling smoke. Ian looked down at his shirt. “It’s our clothes that smell like that. Got any clothes I can borrow?” I nodded, taking out a grey shirt with the Vans logo on it and tan cargo shorts from my closet. We were guys; we didn’t give a damn about changing in the same room as long as we kept our boxers on. Ian slipped his white, now ashy-colored shirt above his head, his smooth pale skin untainted. Ian had his eyes on my shirt in his hand, not noticing me looking at his creamy, vanilla, fit torso he kept in shape with his cross-country running. His chest disappeared as he put on my shirt, me tearing my eyes away when he unbuttoned his denim jeans after he kicked off his shoes, too lazy to store them away like normal people. I had my back turned to him while I changed my into my blue shirt, suddenly feeling insecure about being seen in my boxers. “Hey, Ian. Can you go get the two Cokes in the fridge?” I asked, trying not to sound awkward. He didn’t seem to notice and agreed, his clothes already changed. When he left my room I shut the door, quickly taking off my shoes and jeans for a new pair of pants, buttoning them as soon as Ian came back with the soda. They were a distraction more than a necessity.

He handed me a can and chuckled as he looked at me. “Heh heh, you look good with that mustache.” Ian sat on my bed and sipped his Coke and pointed at me. “Hey, make up a story for your mustache.” He went on when he saw I was confused. “Yeah, say who you are, your life work; it’ll be fun.” I still had the clothes situation on my mind but I did my best to act like a muscly German man. “I am Bruno the Big Boxer! My fists of steel will knock you out while girls faint over my handle bar mustache. I may be a brute but these arms are for girls to hold onto.” I winked at Ian and he laughed, getting up to take my place and let me sit on my bed. He puffed out his chest and pretended to put on a big hat. “I am Pedro the burrito delivery man. I ride across the Mexican desert on my burro, traveling like a mad man to get your burritos delivered on time. My Mexican mustache temps the ladies to get on my burro and ride with me off into the sunset.” Ian’s Mexican accent was horrendous but that’s what made me laugh. “Then where’s my burrito?” He shrugged, keeping his accent. “I don’t know amigo. You didn’t order one.” I pretended to look irked. “Don’t you have any extra burritos on your donkey?” I pointed to the empty space to him. He looked to his left and shook his head.

“What, do you think Jose carries burritos this late at night?? I gave the last one to your mom.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled creepily, making it hard to keep my frown. “You went to my mom’s work? And what time do you think it is…?” Ian petted the invisible Jose donkey and adjusted his invisible sombrero on his head. “Yes, she thanked me kindly. And it’s currently 11PM in Mexico.” I pictured the US map in my head. “Mexico is right below California. It’s almost 5PM here, meaning it’s probably 4PM there. Are you on drugs?” He grinned and gave two thumbs up. “Cocaine is easily found in my country. I have some on me right now. Want some? It’s better than burritos…” He whispered the last part, the seemingly innocent delivery man now creepy and sketchy. “Sure, as long as it won’t kill me.” Ian told me to follow him, leading me out of my room, down the hallway and into the kitchen. I watched him as he opened the cabinet drawer above the stove and dug around, barely able to reach the package of white sugar on the top shelf. I did nothing while he grabbed a dinner plate and a butter knife, actually pouring some powdery sugar on the plate. He used the knife to make two separate lines, making it look like cocaine. Were we really going to snort sugar?

He beckoned me over, smiling down at the two lines of white powder. “Pure cocaine, mi amigo. Ready for the time of your life?” Ian and I never snorted anything before, but being a dumb boy, I nodded. I got sort of nervous when our heads were inches from the plate, both of us counting down from three. “One…snort!” Ian called out, and we went for it, pressing one of our nostrils shut and inhaling as much sugar as we could before we had to stop. We threw ourselves back, clutching our noses and coughing like crazy. The insides of my nostrils burned and the powder didn’t come out; only water from the sink helped flush it out. If I wasn’t panicking I could have thought of a better way to get the powder out but instead I snorted the water, cutting off my rapid breathing for a few seconds. “Gah!” Water escaped my mouth and nose, the intense ordeal over while Ian was still coughing. I got out of his way while he ended his stupid idea. We were both panting, and I handed him a dishtowel after I dried my face. “Don’t you ever make me do that again.” My voice was scratchy, his voice too when he agreed with me. So the mustache role playing was officially ended as we went back into my room, too shaken up to have more fun.

We lay on my bed, tired and still recovering from the mini panic attack we had. “Anthony, I think we should just chill out for the rest of the day. I think we’ve done enough extreme things today.” I agreed, enjoying the quiet and peaceful moment until I turned my head to the left and saw Ian frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. “…Are you okay, man?” He shrugged and didn’t look at me as he said blandly: “Eh…my mom made me an appointment for a psychiatrist tomorrow.” That wasn’t good news. “What? Why does she think you need to see a brain doctor?” He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “She watched some stupid thing on TV about kids with ADHD and she thinks I might have it. I tried telling her that I’m a teenage boy, and we’re always dumb, immature, stupid, and hyper. And I’ve always been this way. I’m sixteen but she thinks I’m supposed to be acting like I’m twenty or something. I don’t feel like being a boring adult just yet.” Ian’s mom was always kinda cool but now I wasn’t so sure. Parents shouldn’t want to put their kids on meds. Not someone as young as Ian. “What’s so bad about having ADHD anyway? You don’t get into much trouble in school. Your grades are average; it’s me that brings you down. The Ian I know is crazy, hyper, foolish, wacky, quirky, and most of all fun. If that’s the ADHD doing that, then fine. At least you’re happy when you’re hyper. You make me happy when you’re happy. I don’t want you to change, dude. I don’t want you to be drugged up and emotionless all the time.” Our eyes met and he smiled at me softly. “…Ian, I wouldn’t change you for the world.” His blue eyes shimmered at me and that cheered him up.

“Thanks, Anthony. I might not even have that stupid mental disorder. I’m going to try to convince the psychiatrist that I’m normal. I’m not going to take medication; ADHD can’t kill me or anything. I’m glad you have my back.” We never usually did mushy moments, and I would have thought it would be awkward and I wouldn’t know what to say but I didn’t even have to think of anything. The words just flowed. “I have your everything, man. I’ll be here if you come back from the doctors and need a shoulder to cry on.” He chuckled at me and smirked. “Why would I be crying?” I thought it was obvious. “Well if it’s a horrifying old lady who looks like a zombie rose from the grave and has a deep voice that will scare you shitless, I would cry too. ADHD will look like nothing compared to the witch you might see.” We laughed together, me determined to keep his spirits up. We had a whole summer to relax and have fun; some hyper disorder was too stupid to make Ian worried. “If that happens, I’ll run out of there and walk home. I bet she’d put some spell on me.” I agreed with him, both of us knowing of it was a women she wouldn’t really be a witch but it was fun to escape reality when it really sucked. “Hey Ian, do you wanna sleep over tonight? We can drink soda, stay up watching a movie, and order a pizza for dinner, what do ya say?” He nodded happily. “Yeah; lemme call up my mom.” Ian sat up and crawled off my bed, finding his cell phone in his backpack; pretty much the only thing left in there.

He took the call outside my room; I didn’t know calls to his mom needed to be private. While he was on the phone I looked in the drawer under my bed, sorting through the dozens of DVD movies I bought. A lot of the movies I had were loud and weren’t fit to watch at night so it was a tough decision. Ian came back in my room, giving me thumbs up. “Yep I can stay. She’ll pick me up at 10AM to go to my appointment. Ooo! What movie are we gonna watch?” He excitedly knelt on the floor with me, quickly moving my movies around to find the right one. He held up Vengeful Bliss, reading the back of the case. “…So it’s about a guy falling for a girl then beating up a bunch of people because he can’t have her.” He sounded unsure. “Basically. Lots of action, desperation, and helpless desire. I saw it only one time and it didn’t hit theatres when it came out two years ago but it’s okay.” Ian shrugged. “Well we’ve seen every movie in here so I guess this’ll do. Nothing better than a man punching people for a girl.” I agreed with him, glad I was keeping him happy.

So we put the movie aside for later, going to watch it at sunset; we had two hours to spare. We played Mortal Kombat in the living room, for once letting Ian beat me in a couple of rounds. It made me smile when he would cheer in victory, his blue eyes sparkling and his white teeth glimmering as they flashed at me. I forgot to act like a sore loser while he was saying: “Whoo!” and: “In your face, Anthony!”, his fists in the air and his competitive energy mixed with joy. When he looked back at me, expecting some answer I forgot to give, that made me snap into focus. “O-oh. Damn, dude! Psh, I want a rematch. I’m gonna beat you this time!” Ian accepted my challenge, losing the next match maybe on purpose or maybe not. We were both so skilled at the videogame it was ridiculous. I was getting so distracted by Ian I almost forgot to do a cheer. “Oh, who’s the loser? You.” I poked his left shoulder and did a little wavy dance, purely for entertainment and not to really shove victory in his face. “Who’s the loser? Uh, you. Who’s the loser? You.” Before I could poke him again he interrupted me. “Who’s the best friend?” He cheered along with a grin, a small pause between us before I mumbled: “You.” Sheepishly.

It was 7PM when we stopped playing, excited to watch the movie. I called Dominos while Ian heated up some popcorn. I watched the sun sink below the horizon in the yellow sky while standing in the front doorway. It was strange how calming a sunset could be when it didn’t mean school was the next day. I heard Ian stop working in the kitchen then he stood in the doorway with me, squinting as the last of the orange ball of fire went behind the neighbor’s houses. “What’cha thinking about?” I shrugged, still watching the sunless but still yellow sky. “I feel so free now. We get so busy thinking about school for months that it’s all we know and our minds are trapped. All this school year sunsets were a bad thing. It meant the day was ending and with only a few hours of sleep, I would have to get up and be at bullshit school for nine hours. Three years in high school has really made me see that we teenagers worry too much about time. The slackers have too much and the smart kids not enough, but in each teenager’s mind…we all feel trapped in a four-year prison. You and me have gone through three years and this’ll be the last summer before high school starts again. After that we’ll be permanently free of that damn place. So this summer we need to make the most of it.” I paused and looked at him seriously.

“…I want to hang out with you as much as possible.” Ian smiled at me and nudged me with his elbow. “You always do. Let’s get the movie started; the pizza guy won’t be here for another twenty minutes I bet.” He was right; I knew that. I closed the front door and we went in my darkening room, a hot bowl of popcorn ready to be devoured. I didn’t have a TV in my room but my computer on my desk could play DVDs. I popped the disc into the computer and Ian and I sat in our computer chairs, staring at the monitor as it began lighting up my room as night fell. “I hope the movie is good.” Ian told me as the first scene began, his fingers lightly shuffling around in the bowl to find a piece of popcorn. “I think you will; if you don’t then we can always make fun of it.” He grinned at me as I reached to my left to snatch some popcorn from the bowl in his lap, our eyes glued to the intro of the movie. The main character was a man named John, and he was some unknown actor that wasn’t famous. Not Vin Diesel, Jason Statham, Matt Damon, or any other big action celebrity that made movies badass. The white, brown-haired, sort of young guy was in an old room in some building, circling places on a map in red marker. “The world was cold. The people who lived there even colder. Except for one. I would stop at nothing…to get that one back.” John narrated, the movie going back four weeks before that point in time.

John was a nice guy who had friends and was liked by everybody in his work. One day while he was delivering some package to one of his co-workers in a big office, he accidently ran into a pretty girl, knocking the papers out of her arms and making them fall to the floor. He apologized and picked up her stuff, exchanging the classic look that would make them fall in love like in every other movie. He offered to take her for some coffee where they could talk about their work in the same building, the movie all hunky-dory so far. Ian kept quiet, not making fun of it yet as he slowly ate buttery popcorn, little squeaking noises escaping his mouth as he chewed it. John and his new girly friend named Janette went on a few dates, fell in love, exchanged some little kisses then shit got serious. John was asleep one night then got a phone call from his girl. “John! There are scary men dressed all in black breaking down my door! I don’t know what they want with me but I’m at the house all alone! I can’t escape; more of them are waiting outside with a black van; what am I supposed to do??” She cried with loud thumping noises beyond her bedroom door. John was speechless then stuttered that he would call the cops and in the meantime she needed to hide somewhere. She got in the closet, hid behind some clothes, and kept on the phone with him but saying nothing in the darkness as her door finally burst open.

Three shady thugs looked around, checking under her bed, the only other hiding place besides her closet. Not total idiots, one of them forcefully ripped the closest door open, easily spotting Janette and grabbed onto her arm. She screamed and struggled to get away, all three hugs twice her size. They easily carried her away for some unknown reason, John hearing that and yelling her name into the phone as if she was still in the room. When it was silent on the other line he hung up, confused as shit and scared. He said he wasn’t some detective but he would find out why she had been kidnapped even if it would kill him. Right when John was preparing to go after her somehow the doorbell rang, causing me and Ian to jump in the quiet moment. “It must be the pizza guy.” I said breathlessly as Ian paused the movie. We left my room after I said Ian could keep watching but he refused, saying he “had my back.” Whatever that meant. Ian dashed in front of me and peeked out the window by the door, seeing who was there. He held my metal baseball bat behind his back, paranoid that there were thugs at my door. He glared at who was there, then slowly nodded seriously to me. “He’s got our pizza…but be careful.” It was almost impossible to tell if he was joking or not.

The delivery guy looked innocent enough as he held out our Domino’s pizza box, appearing bored and only asking for his money. I paid him sixteen dollars from my wallet and he left without another word, awesome-smelling and hot pizza in my hands. Ian put my bat back in my room then joined me in the kitchen, licking his lips and staring down at our large pepperoni pizza lustfully. I served him a plate since he looked too busy to get a slice of his own; putting some ranch dressing on both of ours. “…I’m going to do unforgivable things to you…Mr. Pizza.” He mumbled, causing me to laugh while he looked hypnotized by his food. “Ha, come on, dude. Let’s get back to the movie.” We left the rest of the pizza on the dining table and went back to our room, the popcorn seeming like nothing compared to the steaming-hot, delicious, mouth-watering pizza I began chewing. “Oh ma gard…nom…uuhhhhh!” I moaned, hearing Ian laugh as I had my eyes closed in total ecstasy. “What the hell was that?” Hot food went down my throat then I murmured: “…Foodgasm.” Ian laughed again. “Is that like getting an orgasm from food?” He looked sort of freaked out when I nodded at him, a small and awkward smile on his face when I dreamily stared at him. “Anthony, don’t you only get those when you have sex with someone?” We were only sixteen but I would have thought he would have some knowledge of the adult world.

“Yeah. Haven’t you ever had an orgasm before?” The bright computer light in my dark room illuminated Ian’s horrified face, getting no answer until I realized what the hell I just asked him. “Whoa! That was too personal. And weird. Never mind.” Ian still said nothing when I unpaused the movie, the awkwardness between us hopefully going to settle down soon. John turned into a badass guy who found the base of the thug’s which was some operation that got girls into some slave business or something. After bashing in a bad guy’s face, he demanded where they kept their kidnapped women, getting no answer from the guy. He shot some dudes and kicked more ass, finally breaking down a door and seeing Janette in a prison cell. He ran up to her and they looked at each other desperately. “I said I would stop at nothing to find you. I’m taking you back.” He said all seriously, his girlfriend saying he was her hero. He shot the padlock off the metal door, releasing her before more bad guys showed up. Dramatic music played out as he got shot in the right shoulder, slow motion happening while John shot the thugs. All wounded and bleeding, he took Janette and ran out the building with her, somehow never running out of bullets in one gun while he kept shooting more bad guys.

The movie had been playing for over an hour and a half, everything seeming okay until one night after a date they went on. He was driving and they were talking but right on the empty street at night their car suddenly got hit with something explosive, sending the SUV to go flipping over, the back of the car in flames and the glass shattering around them. Dazed, bleeding and in pain, the intense action didn’t stop there. Janette was pulled from the wreck by none other than more bad guys who were taking her back. John crawled out of the flipped car, his head bleeding but somehow not in total agony as he limped after her. Two guys were dragging her into a truck but she had time to say: “John! I just know that you will come after me! They try to tear us apart, but I will never stop loving you! I know you’ll come back for me!” She shouted while about to cry, still not strong enough to escape and her boyfriend too injured to go after her. She was put away and the bad guys took off, poor innocent John going to have to rescue her again. Subtle music played out as he was back in that old dingy room. He used to be all clean-shaven looking like a proper gentleman, but now he wore a dirty white tank-top and blood-spotted jeans. His eyes were serious and dark, his once smooth face was scruffy and he glared out the window as he loaded a gun with bullets. “I will get you back.” John murmured viciously, his mean face the last thing you saw before the movie ended.

I turned off the movie when the credits began playing, turning to Ian who was frowning. “…So we don’t even know if he rescues her again.” He was clearly disappointed. “No, we have no idea.” He sighed wearily. “I would ask if there’s a sequel but I wouldn’t wanna see it. That chick reminds me of Princess Peach. Always getting kidnapped.” The frown he wore turned into a smile. “But just because the movie was lame, it doesn’t mean I still didn’t enjoy watching it with you.” The moment got all mushy. “Me, too. Everything’s more fun when you’re around.” There was some noise coming from the kitchen, the time being 9:20PM. Ian glared at the door, thinking it was bad guys when I knew it was just my mom home from work. He followed me out of my room and down the hallway and into the kitchen, my mom still in her professional attire. She didn’t see us until I said hi to her, and she gave me a smile. “Hey, hon. The backyard smells like smoke; did you do anything today that I don’t know about?” Like I would actually tell her Ian and I had a bonfire earlier. “No, it must be the neighbors doing that.” She shrugged and opened the pizza box. “I’ll take your word for it. Looks like you guys already ate. I don’t have to make dinner then.” She grabbed a slice and ate some, asking me how I spent my brand new freedom I earned today.

“Well Ian and I came back here, played some video games, hung out, and we just got done watching a movie.” She put her pizza on a plate and looked back at me to see Ian now by my side, waving at her. “Hey, Mrs. Padilla.” My mom’s eyes lit up when she saw him. “Hey, Ian! Glad you guys had fun. Now that school’s out I dread to think what kind of trouble you two are going to get in.” The three of us shared a laugh, me and Ian already having done that. “So yeah, I asked Ian if he could sleep over and his mom said he can. Is that okay?” She nodded casually, finding no problem that I didn’t even ask her ahead of time. She liked Ian and didn’t mind that he was always over; she often let him stay for dinner, cooking for one extra person. She said she liked how he could always make her laugh after a stressful day at work. She never found me funny for some reason. We went back to my room, threw away our dinner and half-eaten popcorn, and Ian took a shower while I checked my MySpace. Some of our other friends posted what they did on the last day of school, two of my senior friends saying they were so happy to be done with high school. They were lucky. High school was so lame. And I heard being a senior was the toughest. So many tests and homework, and not to mention teachers shoved college down your throat. One of my school friends Diane said she just became some dude named Don’s girlfriend. She asked if I was going to find summer love. I messaged her that I had no idea. Having to be a slave to a girl all summer didn’t sound like fun. I turned the computer off, bored of the same MySpace routine.

I heard the water from the shower turn off, meaning Ian was done taking his shower. It was 9:20PM, and the time got me nervous. Tomorrow he would be on his own, his mom going to be against him while some doctor would be begging to give him pills. As long as the doctor got their money; they wouldn’t care less about Ian and I knew they would look over the fact that he was a dumb teenage boy and think he had some big disorder that was destroying him or something. Ian could defend himself all he wanted but I wouldn’t be there to back him up. The whole fucked up situation made me feel kinda sick. I didn’t want Ian to change. If he had ADHD and took those pills, he would become some emotionless zombie and wouldn’t be fun anymore. I would have to wait until tomorrow to find out what would happen. When he came into my room, he didn’t look bummed out like me. Ian was running his hands through his stringy wet hair, a total content look on his face, his curly moustache gone. “You gonna take a shower tonight, Anthony?” I instantly shook my head, my excuse not the actual reason why. “No, I’ll shower tomorrow. Too lazy.” I was too depressed and irritated to focus on a stupid shower. He laughed and bought my fake attitude.

“So yeah, I’ll have to hold onto your clothes until tomorrow when I get back from the psychiatrist. Sound okay?” I nodded, watching him yawn and undo the covers on my bed, already planning on going to sleep. “Big day tomorrow.” He mumbled, crawling onto my bed close to the wall, pulling the covers up to his head. Looks like I had to go to sleep, too. It took five minutes to scrub the moustache off my face before I went to bed. “I’ll set the alarm for 9:30, Ian.” I told him before I clicked the bedroom light off, getting only a: “Hmm.” From Ian in return. I put my cell phone on vibrate and set the alarm, then laid on my side of the bed, not finding it awkward sleeping next to another guy. We had sleepovers all the time, and sleeping on the floor sucked. Plus my bed was big enough for two, which I always found it funny that Ian had been in my bed way more times than a girl. But then again I was only sixteen, and even though I was a guy, I didn’t feel the need to lose my virginity anytime soon. And having sleepovers with your girlfriend didn’t sound as fun as it would be with Ian. I would rather be stupid and hyper all night then be all gentle and cuddly with some girl. Maybe when I would be older I would consider getting serious with a girl. My room was totally quiet and dark, me having no idea if Ian was already asleep or not since our backs were to each other and he didn’t snore. Tomorrow both of us would either be damn miserable or damn happy. They couldn’t do that to him…he didn’t have ADHD. Depressed and helpless, I pulled the covers up to my face and closed my eyes, dreading what tomorrow could bring.

Three words spread like smoke around my mind, being spoken by someone. The words were repeated over and over, growing fainter until they disappeared in the darkness around me. I realized it was that which woke me up, and even though the voice who spoke to me was gone, I still heard their words. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. The voice wasn’t girlish for sure; it was deeper like a guy’s but what dude would tell me they loved me? Whatever. It was too weird of a dream to let me go back to sleep. Birds were chirping loudly and the calm darkness I thought I was in lit up. Sleep was officially over. My eyes opened lazily, catching the sunlight that was shining through my window. It took a few seconds for me to realize that today was- “Fuck…” I whispered, getting out of bed as softly as possible to not wake Ian. Taking my cell phone off the desk to check the time, I woke up at 9:20AM, ten minutes before the alarm was supposed to go off. Woken up by some fucking “I love you”s. Turning back, I saw that Ian had rolled over sometime in the night, away from the wall and having the most peaceful look on his face. I shut the alarm off, intending on waking Ian up myself. Might as well be nice on that terrible day.

I left him asleep in my room and went to the kitchen to make breakfast for us. So maybe ham and cheese Hot Pockets wouldn’t be what my mom would call breakfast, but it would do. I put them on two plates and let them cool on the dining table, heading back into my room. “Ian…” My hand gently shook his shoulder to rouse him. “Wake up.” I got a moan instead of a “good morning”. Ian cringed and buried his face in the covers. “Breakfast. Come on, sleepy.” He didn’t move so I teased: “Fine; looks like that Hot Pocket is mine.” I knew that would get him out of bed so I went back to the kitchen and sat down at the table. My Hot Pocket was warm and gooey as I bit into it, tasting awesome with its cheesy goodness melting over the bits of ham. Loud moans came from down the hallway, getting closer as I saw Ian dragging himself towards the kitchen. “Mmmmm…” He groaned at me when he sank into the chair to my right. Instead of eating his breakfast, Ian roughly dropped his head onto the table with his eyes closed, moaning again. This dramatic baby. “Eat, dude. You got a big day.” I nudged his shoulder and he groaned again. “Ugh…how is it big?” It sucked that I had to remind him. “You gotta convince the doctor you don’t have ADHD.” Ian’s tired blue eyes opened and he sat up, frowning deeply.

“Oh. Yeah. I can’t believe my mom wants me on drugs. And even worse, wants to believe that my happy personality is a bad thing.” Ian’s sad eyes met mine and they were full of shock and dread. “…Why can’t she see me the way you do, Anthony?” I shrugged and thought about it in the few silent moments afterward. “…Maybe she thinks that you’re being set back if you have it, and getting meds will make you more productive or something. But you’re fine the way you are, Ian. Don’t let them brainwash you. Now eat up.” Ian picked up his Hot Pocket and bit into it, his eyes in a fixed gaze ahead of him. I didn’t believe the confident words I just gave him. And I doubted he did either. When parents think something is wrong with their kid, they automatically turn to medication to solve it. Ian could explain himself all he wanted; nobody would listen to him. Even though Ian was the one targeted, I felt just as invaded. If they were messing around in his life, they were messing around in mine. That’s how best friends worked. Ian and me were one person, like twins, and if he got hurt so was I. They better not medicate him.

We didn’t talk while we ate. We didn’t laugh. Didn’t tell jokes. Didn’t bitch about the world. Ian and I just sat there in the doomed morning, waiting for Ian’s mom to pick him up. I already did my best to help him. But it didn’t feel like enough when we heard a short honk of a car horn outside. The clock on the kitchen wall read 10:02. Ian and me went to the front door and I hugged him as a goodbye. He didn’t expect it by the way his body stiffened in my arms but he hugged me back. “Just do your best. Don’t let them take you alive.” I said bravely to him, letting him go only to see Ian’s dim blue eyes without hope and a sad frown on his face. He nodded gravely and mumbled: “I’ll call you when I get home.” Ian took a deep breath and bravely walked out the door, and my heart felt heavy as I watched him get driven away to a battle I couldn’t help him fight. It didn’t take a genius to know the outcome of the appointment. And that’s what sickened me the most.