Chapter One: Led Astray

Leila’s Journal

I should—I really should care…

I distorted that phrase over and over in my head. Hell, maybe that’s what people thought about me. But then again, I just couldn’t seem to care because in all actuality why should I? About anything really, I had no interest at all. It’s kind of boring all of the sudden—this life.

I can’t take my friends anymore; all that prissiness was like poison to me. After I snapped at Leah, that day, those friends turned into enemies.

Funny part is that I now spend just as much time at her house as I did when we were friends.

I can’t go home and concentrate on anything. I need to…just be. Like, the thing is, I’ve gotten over everything. I got over my friends and their pretentious bullshit. I got over soccer. And school. I even got over my boyfriend.

All the things that could last…seemed a waste. Only things that could hold my interest mattered. Sex, drugs, all those types of things.

My parents they hate me now, but do I care?

Funny thing I noticed the other day with Mike and Garret—how tightly wound I must have been, just like Leah is still. Garret tossed one look in her direction and she cringed, but I didn’t miss her longing. Garret’s a far cry from her soon-to-be valedictorian boyfriend.

I could laugh thinking about him—remembering the day Leah confessed to me his problem with getting it up in a timely manner, thus making it impossible for Leah to lose the innocence I knew she longed to remove. She ignored me for a day when I told her my diagnosis, “gay”.

Poor girl’s living a lie—I do wonder what she thinks about me? Probably jealous; its so different not caring—but once you let yourself forget about one thing, everything else falls by the way side too.

Leah

I read that last page of Leila’s journal—how did this happen to my ex-bestfriend. I just couldn’t get it. She did look carefree down there though—sharing a bowl with my drop-out-of-college brother. Why she kept this book in her bag—and didn’t hold on to it—I couldn’t fathom it or why I snagged it. If my parents, anyone in my life for that matter, found this they’d send me to a convent.

“That’s shit Mike,” I heard her said in a detached distorted voice. I couldn’t help it then; my fingers tingled and my nose burned at the smell of it but I wanted a hit. If I could tap into that carelessness…I thought then that I needed it.

“It’s about aliens,” she blurted, “I love this scene.”

“Look who it is,” Mike’s friend Garret—who was undeniably gorgeous and undeniably creepy—said pointing to me after taking a hit of his joint, “Little miss…you’re sister’s getting hot man.”

Mike punched him in the arm, “Get outta here, Leah. I don’t need your bullshit. Toss me some air freshener on your way out.”

“I wanted to…,” I started lamely. Leila flicked her eyes toward me wickedly.

“Aww baby sissy wants to take a hit, you miss me Leah,” she teased but the bitter edge wrapped itself around her light tone. With her holding it aloft, I bent down to pick it up the burning blunt. Just as I lifted it towards my mouth, Garret pulled his arm around my calves and sent my butt spilling into his lap.

My head was spinning as he took the joint from my and blew smoke into my face. I squirmed trying to get away from him but he held me down. He wrapped a hand around my neck, as I involuntarily leaned into him—I never noticed how blue his eyes were…almost purple, “Let me show you how baby.”

I gasped and he pushed his bitter tasting mouth onto mine and blew the smoke into my mouth. I seized back hacking.

“Why’d you…,” I said trying to find his face with my eyes—they were burning.

“It’s called a shotgun, babe,” his smile loomed over me.

“Garret, let me go,” I said pulling away from him. The mellowness washed over my body and I was considerably less uncomfortable than I would have been not high but still…this was Garret I was sitting on.

“Let’s take little miss perfect up to her room,” he said scooping me up.

“Garret, stop this! Mike can’t you…” I called but my brother’s raspy laugh was ringing out.

“I think I might need to give you a new name,” he said as he dropped me roughly onto the bed and falling beside me. He passed me the joint and I brought it to my mouth—he caught my hesitance.

“I thought you didn’t like it when I gave you a shotgun,” he whispered into my ear before snatching it away and taking a long drag. He pulled his body over mine straddling me. He blew the smoke over his head and bent back over.

“Little Leah I feel a tinge of guilt—you being so innocent and all,” he licked my bottom lip before nipping it, “But…”

He took another long drag, my eyes were lolling back into my head in pleasure—the tangible need I felt with Garret was something completely foreign compare to when I was with Neil—while he planted his mouth back on mine, “I just can’t seem to find the need to care.”

A/N: I’m very unsure about this so any feedback would be amazing. I’m not sure how far I’m going to take it but I can’t let the prologue I wrote for this go. Please review—so I’ll know that its either a disaster that I should give up on, or something with some potential.