Disclaimer: I do not own 'Crazy's Coffee'. I don't even know if that is a coffee shop. If it is, forgive me. :D
Cigarettes and Amy Lee from Evanescence.
It was the first thing I heard and smelled when I woke up. Christine had to be smoking again; she's the only one I know who has ever had a history with those cancer sticks. And she only smokes and listens to Evanescence when she's upset, so it had to be her. Not to mention the fact that she's the only other person who lives with me in this two-bedroom apartment, so that narrows it down quite a bit.
Christine is my partner in crime, so to speak. We've been best friends since seventh grade, which was about five years ago. It's the beginning of summer, we've graduated high school, and we've already got an apartment to live in.
How'd that happen, right?
Neither of us had a good family life and we were always thinking up some way to get out of the hell hole we called home. My parents had told me that I could move out when I was seventeen, that they didn't really have a need for me to be around the house except to clean and do the laundry. That's all they ever seemed to need me for. All they did was ignore me and order me around like a maid.
When I told Christine, she immediately asked her parents if she could move out when she turned seventeen also. They agreed with no hesitation, only giving her a few bruises instead of the couple hundred that she usually went to school with.
Our home lives were alike, but in different ways. We were both abused by our parents; Christine was physically abused and I was abused by lack of communication. Our parents were both heavy partiers, deeming them heavy drinkers. While mine would roll into bed unawares at four in the morning, Christine's would make a huge commotion: breaking things, shouting, cursing at each other.
It might be why Christine and I get along so well. We understand why we act the way we do and why we sometimes wake up in the middle of the night crying, having had a nightmare about our parents. We would never invite one another over incase our parents got even more drunk, or acted worse than usual. We only hung out at school or met up at Crazy's Coffee, the local coffee shop, otherwise known as Crazy's.
Christine and I are one and a half weeks apart; I'm the younger one. So five months ago, in January, when we both turned seventeen and were still juniors, we moved out and into an apartment together like we had been planning to do ever since our friendship started.
I know everything about Christine and Christine knows everything about me. It's just the way it is. So, of course, I wasn't too surprised to wake up to the smell of cigarettes and the deep lyrics of Evanescence-one of my favorite bands.
I stumbled out of bed and put on the jacket hanging on the doorknob of my closet; Christine had turned the air down again.
I yawned and shivered, my bare feet freezing to death against the cold hardwood floor, "Chris?" I called her by her nickname, peering into her room. She was sitting on her window pane, the window open while she was smoking a cigarette and crying. I sighed and shook my head sympathetically, walking into her room and sat down on her bed. Amy Lee's voice was clearer now, coming from her old stereo sitting atop her dresser, the one I had given her about three years ago.
She didn't even look back to see if it was me; she just started talking quietly, but loud enough so I could hear her over the music, silent tears falling down her cheeks and onto her t-shirt, "He broke up with me, Riley." She knew that I knew who she was talking about, so she didn't say his name.
Trevor Davis, the boy of Christine's dreams. I tried telling her to be careful, to not fall too head over heels for him because all he's going to do is break her heart. She wouldn't listen to me, telling me that I was wrong. Turns out I was right.
She took another drag of her cigarette, blew out the smoke, and then crushed the cigarette against the window pane, throwing it out the window, "I loved him, Riley." She paused and sighed, "He told me that he l-loved me too." She still hadn't turned around to look back at me and I noticed that her shoulders were shaking from crying.
I didn't say anything.
She turned around and looked at me. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her sandy-brown bangs were covering her green eyes, and her lips were quivering. She was trying so hard not to start bawling like a baby, I could tell. She hated showing that she was weak. Somewhat like me.
"You can s-say I t-told you s-so." The tears started flowing down harder and I stood up and pulled her into a hug.
I shook my head, "I'm not going to." I stepped away from her and a smile spread across my face, "Trevor's an asshole, all right? He doesn't deserve you. He's lucky that I'm not over at his house right now castrating him."
She smiled sadly and wiped at her nose, "You can go do that right now, as a matter of fact."
I turned off her stereo, cutting off Amy Lee, and said, "No, I have a better idea. Let's go down to Crazy's, have a few coffees, and then hit the bookstore."
She shook her head, and took in a deep breath,, "I don't really want to get out today. I'd rather just sit here and have a smoke-wallow in my own self pity."
"How many cigarettes have you had today?"
She opened her mouth, but shut it again, looking down and counting on her fingers. "Five? Wait, no…four." She looked up at me hopefully, wanting the difference of one cigarette to make a change in my reaction.
My mouth dropped open in shock, "Christine Taylor. It's nine o'clock and you've already had four cigarettes?"
Her eyes widened and she shrugged, "What? Come on, Riley, you know I only smoke when I'm upset."
I shook my head, "You shouldn't be smoking at all. You know what smoking does to you? It-"
She cut me off and checked each symptom off with her fingers, "Makes your teeth yellow, kills your lungs, makes your clothes stink, blah-blah-blah."
"You forgot 'causes lung cancer'." I added in.
She scoffed, "Isn't that the same as kills your lungs?"
I folded my arms across my chest and gave her a pointed look.
She sighed, grabbing her box of cigarettes from her desk and took a cigarette from it, placing it between her fingers and lighting it, "Riley, I don't need this right now, okay? Today is already bad enough, all right?"
I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at the Marlboro box, "Okay. Well, whenever you're ready to get out and do something, let me know." I walked out of her room and not before long I heard Amy Lee singing about how her wounds won't seem to heal and that the pain is just too real. I shook my head and sighed; Christine can't keep going on like this. I stomped my way back to her room and stubbornly put a hand on my hip, "Come on. Get up."
Christine looked at me from her bed where she was laying face up with her eyes closed, cigarette poking out from her mouth, and sniffed, "What? No." She paused and then asked, "Wait, why?"
I walked towards her and yanked the cigarette from her mouth, earning a gasp from her in the process. I answered her, "You have to get out of here and do something." I shook the cigarette between my two fingers, "This is not healthy."
She sighed and sat up, crossing her legs beneath her, "Riley. You don't understand what I'm going through. You've never been in love."
I rolled my eyes. I had already received this speech from Christine before. She goes on and on about how love is the most amazing feeling in the world and how you've never lived until you experience it. She tells me that I can't understand the way she acts or what she does because I've never been in love.
"Christine. I know, okay? I know." I paused and then added, "Get dressed. We're leaving for Crazy's in thirty minutes."
I grinned, "No! Christine, I'm doing this for your own good. Get up, get dressed, and let's go be girls and talk about that asshole behind his back and drown ourselves in coffee."
She sighed before she smiled at me, "All right. Leave! Let me get dressed."
I smiled in triumph. Before I could close her door, she called out to me, "Hey, Riley?"
I stuck my head back into her room, "Yeah?"
She took a pair of gym pants out of her drawer and smiled at me, "Thanks."
"It's what I'm here for." And I shut the door, heading towards my room to get dressed.
Another reason I like Christine so much is because she doesn't fall hard. And it's easy to get her out of the house and running about the town with me, helping get her mind focused elsewhere.
And while we'll be going to Crazy's to get coffee so she can rant about Trevor, I'll be checking out Andrew, the guy who works behind the counter.
Who ever said I couldn't have a little fun?
A/N: All right, here's the prologue of Forgive and Forget. I hope y'all like it! I know it's short, but I'll be working on the first chapter in a bit, so that one will definitely be longer.
Leave me feedback. Reviews are always nice. :D