Jon From High School by Jenkins Jeremy

Author:Jenkins, Jeremy [Jenkins, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-06-23T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Friday came up quick.

All day, I was thinking about going to the game with Martin.

Would Jon see me in the stands and get jealous again?

It wasn’t nice to think that, but I couldn’t deny the pleasure that coursed through me when I lingered on that thought. It would be nice to taste that power again, after the shitty way Jon had been treating me.

I had time to go home before the game started at eight, and I used that time to get ready.

I painted my nails black and listened to Taking Back Sunday’s Make Damn Sure while I teased my hair.

“I just wanna break you down so badly…” I sang along, hooking an earring through my ear. “In the worst, way…”

I thought of how his face looked after he threw that basketball at me and Martin in the bleachers. How he seemed to be seething with rage…

And then how I came all over his face in the shower. How he looked then…

In my reflection, my lips pulled into a grin as I carefully painted on my eyeliner in thick, black stripes.

When I was done, I leaned back to admire my handiwork: my black hair was perfectly teased to swoop over my face, showing off the fresh red stripe I’d given myself yesterday. It felt good to experiment with hair products; it made me feel like I was in control of something. Anyway, it turned out fine, but a little dry. I looked like a rocker. I looked badass.

Now—what to wear?

I went into my closet and eyed the stack of black skinny jeans.

There was only one pair of white skinny jeans, and I only wore those on the days I felt extra, super skinny.

I hadn’t eaten very much this week—obsessing over someone tends to kill the appetite.

I knew those jeans drew attention to my ass. I knew there was something magical about them that attracted guys’ eyes like a magnet.

And I knew those were the ones I was going to wear.

I pulled them on, and unsurprisingly, they hung a little loose. Guess I needed to use my studded belt, what a shame…

I threaded the sparkling, metallic belt through the jean’s loopholes and secured it at the front.

Donning this made me feel like I was doing one of those superhero dress-up montages, getting ready to face Mr. Freeze or something. Only, unlike that 1999 Batman & Robin film, my montage did not consist of pulling on tight leather outfits and zooming in on my ass.

Still, the sentiment was the same.

All I need was a shirt…

I pawed through my closet, looking for my Metallica band tee. It had to be here somewhere—it would complete this look.

I watched my freshly painted black nails shine in my yellow bedroom light as I searched through my hangers.

Nothing.

Where was it?!

I checked my phone.

A text from Martin shone on the screen, telling me he was here.

Fuck!

I snatched my tight, black, hole-ridden Slipknot tee and yanked it on, then charged out the door.

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