I'm tired of the bullshit. That much I'll tell you right from the get. This life and most of the people in it are idiots. I don't understand how people can be the way that they are. But trying to figure out life while you're sitting in the Mexican restaurant, snarfing down chicken quesadillas isn't exactly going to work. That much I figured out. But maybe through writing this I'll start to understand things. My friends. My family. Myself. And most puzzling of all - my in-laws. God help me.

I'm sitting here trying to decide the best way to start this story. There's so much that's happened and I just can't pick the best place to start. I could start at the beginning, but it's really not that exciting and doesn't build up to a whole lot of anything. I suppose I could just start off with the apartment.

I was eighteen and working at the public library. I drove a 1993 red Grand AM and I liked it. The interior was grey and smelled like cigarettes, but the stereo worked and the car only over heated about once a week. Two of my best friends and I decided that we were eighteen, just out of high school and ready to conquer the world, dammit. So we got our own apartment. It wasn't one of those "defy your parents!" kind of things - mine and Jessica's moms helped us to pick the place out. It was a small, two bedroom apartment across from the Christian college.

"Look, Jess, you can sit on your patio and watch the college boys play football," Melody teased.

Jessica rolled her silver blue eyes. "Moooooooom."

Sure enough, across the street and just to the left was an open field with about twenty guys tackling the hell out of each other over a ball. Whoopee. Just my kind of entertainment.

We moved in two days later.

It was decided that since Jessica had the biggest furniture, she got a room to herself and Sabriena and I would share the other room. But we got the room with the bigger closet. That first night was the best - it felt like a sleepover with no parents. I can still remember the feeling that place envoked. A kind of calm thrill that you were on your own and there were no boundaries within those walls. If you wanted a smoke, light your cigarette. If you wanted to skip school, turn off the alarm. If you wanted to go driving around, leave. If you wanted to have sex, block the bedroom door and hang a bra on the doorknob.

My mother had worried about how we were going to have enough things to live off of. My boss, who had eloped only two weeks prior, suddenly found herself with extra livingroom furniture and gave me a couch, chair, coffee table and assorted dishes. Sabriena provided the tv, entertainment center, kitchen table and benches. When you're an eighteen-year-old college student, it doesn't take much more than that. All that's left is to memorize the number to the local pizza parlour and find someone over 21 to buy you alcohol and you're set.

Within two weeks, it was well-known around town that the three of us now had our own place. It became a favorite for our still-in-school friends. But we didn't mind. It was nice having twenty some odd people in your home all weekend long. Besides, I loved to cook and people that age are ALWAYS hungry. Layton took to calling me "Mama Lins" for a long time because I always had food waiting for him. That was until that bad night where shit hit the fan between him and us.

Layton was three years younger, outgoing and friendly. He had long, loosely curled black hair and a huge grin on his face at all times. For some unknown reason, he and Jessica got into a wrestling match on the livingroom floor. I believe Jess had been drinking. When she got up to go to her room, Layton plopped down on the couch next to me.

"Lindsey, I think I need to go talk to Jessica," he whispered to me.

"About what?"

"I can't say."

"Just tell me. She'll end up telling me anyway," I muttered while lighting my cigarette.

"She just kissed me."

I choked on the smoke. "Do what? When?"

"When we were on the floor! When she was leaning over me."

"Are you sure?" I cocked an eyebrow. I knew Jessi was a flirt, but to kiss Layton? That seemed a little odd. The boy was queerer than a three dollar bill and everyone knew it.

"Yes! Do you think I should go talk to her?"

"Uh, no. She'd just get pissed. I mean, she prolly didn't mean to. She might have just bumped you when you were wrestling."

"Yeah, maybe," Layton said, considering the carpet carefully. "I guess I won't say anything to her."

He left soon after. Of course, I opened my usually large mouth and spilled to Jessica what Layton had just confided to me.

"I did not kiss him!" Jessica squealed.

"That's bullshit," Krista hissed, smoking her cigarette and sitting in the cushy armchair that liked to swallow people. "We oughta call his ass up and ask him what the hell he's talking about."

We swiped Sabriena's cell phone and went outside so as to not disturb our bitchy neighbor who liked to pound on the door every time someone sneezed.

I don't remember all of the conversation, but at some point, I remember Krista snatching the phone away from me and chewing Layton a new asshole.

"Did you think that Lindsey wouldn't tell us?" Krista shouted into the phone. Her big, blue eyes were flaming. "We tell each other everything! We're like sisters! Even me and Sabriena, who've never been close, we even tell each other shit! You can't tell any of us something without telling the others!"

"You tell 'im," Jessica cheered. She was sucking her smoke down with vengence.

"Shut up! Fuck you!" Krista paused for a moment. "No, don't you fucking cuss at me. Don't fucking cuss at me!" After a minute, she tossed me the phone.

"Lindsey, you said you weren't going to tell her!" Layton spat.

"No, I didn't! I said you shouldn't talk to her!" I retorted.

"Whatever. I am so done with you. I mean it. I am so fucking done with you!"

I think he hung up on me after that. I was pissed, so I really didn't care. We all sat out in the yard, fuming, bitching about him and how he was gay anyway. We looked to Sabriena to say something, but, as always, she held up her hands and shrugged her shoulders. Heaven forbid she should get involved in something.

Krista then brought Cindy to the group. Cindy was medium height with shoulder-length brown hair, dark brown eyes and pouty lips and the most serious attitude of anyone I know. Which, I guess, really isn't saying a whole lot since everyone I know acts like we're five. And that was the way it was from then on. The five of us girls. Most of us single and ready for anything life could throw at us.

We all worked together at the Scholastic call center (yes, I was holding two jobs) and it was there that Cindy found Eric. One night, Cindy and I stood on a street corner in early October for two hours, trying to flag this boy down. Cindy was even in her bright orange T-shirt with "LUTHER" printed across the front in big, white, block letters. He never even slowed down.

Now, you may be asking yourself, why were we standing on the street corner? Because that's where my boyfriend and his loser buddies liked to hang out. That should have tipped me off about Jimmy in the first place. Well, second place. The first place should have been that he rode around town on a bicycle with a rat on his shoulder. God, I could hang myself right now just thinking about how pathetically desperate I was.

The first time I got to meet Eric was at Jessica's surprise birthday party. Me, Krista, Cindy and Sabriena planned it. So, while Jessica was out, the four of us got to decorating the apartment. We filled the floor with balloons (which Sabriena and I damn near passed out from blowing up), hung streamers from the door ways, over the table and bought a big cake. Chocolate.

Krista, having found no other tape, put up the streamers with duct tape.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire her handywork. She brushed her curly, short blonde hair out of her big, silver blue eyes. Krista was about 5'8" with a temper that could send most people running for cover. "Now just don't turn on the fan."

I stuck my head into the kitchen and stared at the big, ugly brown ceiling fan. Streamers ran from each blade to a corner of the table.

"Gorgeous," I grinned.

"Here, let's take these," Cindy said, opening her purse and pulling out a small bottle. "I got them at the gas station earlier."

I took the bottle from her. "Yellow jackets?"

"They give you energy," she said, tipping her head back and swallowing one.

I looked at Krista and shrugged.

"How many can you take?" Krista asked.

"I took two," Cindy said. "But I think you can take three."

Yeah, three within a twenty-four hour period. Not three at a time. But we didn't read the instructions that close. Krista and I popped 'em and finished them off with some Mountain Dew. Needless to say, by the time everyone showed up and Jessica walked in the front door, Krista and I were bouncing off the walls. Literally. Krista and I were talking so fast, we could have put auctioneers to shame.

Finally, about half an hour after listening to us babble, Sabriena marched up to me and banished me to the livingroom, where I proceeded to bounce up and down for ten minutes until I collapsed on the couch, panting and holding my chest. Bouncing with big boobs doesn't mix.

We went to a haunted house that night. It wasn't the best, but it was entertaining enough to, well, entertain us. God, that's redundant.

Kind of an odd place to stop, i know, but i want to see if anyone is even interested in reading this. Constructive critisism is always appreciated!