Joshua Foster

There was a sting in my eyes as the strobe lights flashed, hints of blues and reds burning through the contact lenses sat against my irises.

The unsourcable liquid in my red solo cup was sloshing all over, spilling slightly onto the cuffs of my letterman jacket.

Dreary bass erupted in my eardrums as I danced to the beat, holding Annie with one hand, my bicep slithered over her sculpted shoulder as her hand reached up, gripping mine.

Annabel Sheridan.

She was the most popular girl in school, my perfect pair.

With long flowing red hair and a button nose, she was everything I could ever ask for.

And here we were, a little black slip dress and a letterman's jacket, a combover and a high ponytail, sneakers and heels.

the all-American couple.

blah. blah. blah.

We had known each other for over a decade now, it was written in the stars we would be together, captain of the varsity football team and the lead cheerleader.

However, Something about us never clicked, it was like there was meant to be a cosmic connection, but there never was.

We met in third grade, I was quiet and awkward, everything she never was, everything I never could be.

She grabbed me from my thoughts, quite literally, and whispered something in my ear about going to the bathroom.

All I did was reply with a nod, hearing her clearly over the brash noise of the crowd was pretty much mission impossible.

The small sequins stuck against the lace of her dress shone brightly against the LEDs, she had a look of danger in her eyes.

Within seconds, she had released herself from my grip and headed up the stairs, leaving me on the dancefloor - which also happened to be my best friend's living room - alone.

The music sped up a little, and I just let the dance consume me, there was so much going on in my mind that the thought of merely thinking about it brought nausea to my mind, however, that might have also been the shots.

I felt a tap at the back of my shoulder and spinning on my heel, I looked down at the face in front of me, it was one of the guys on the team, he played halfback, and was a little weird, Alex.

Loud bass beats hung heavy in my ears, and I tried my hardest to look at him whilst he spoke, but my eyes clung to something entirely different, a figure walking up the stairs.

In my blurred vision, I caught a grasp of Annie's golden hair and slip dress and stood directly behind a letterman, but not me, obviously.

just to reassure myself of that.

It took a hot sec to realise who it was, and moreover what their hands were doing.

Their fingers were interlinked, his dark curls sat on top of his head as his bronzed skin grasped onto her slightly orange hand.

Dion Tyler.

My best friend(s) of over eleven years, my basically brother and the girl who was supposed to be the love of my life, holding hands?

My eyes met back with Alex's, his face now holding some sort of concerned perplexion as I stared at him, my eyebrows knitting together as I made a desperate attempt to get out of his god-awful conversing skills.

he was like one of those 80-year-old men who told ridiculously long pointless stories for no reason, trapped in the body of a seventeen-year-old boy.

"Look, Al, Buddy, I really gotta shoot, catch you later?" I patted his shoulders, taking the solo cup from his hands and necking it before heading out up the stairs.

A strange flood of fury burned through my alcohol-lined veins, making me feel all tingly and excited.

I flung myself from one step to another, weaving between the groups of drunken souls and loved-up freaks.

A delicate ringing sound bashed violently at the walls of my mind, crap.

The house was sleek, a modernised farmhouse with tall windows and high ceilings.

The corridor was painted white, I think, and big photoframes with minimalistic art stood between the gaps between each door, making my head spin as I stared along the almost futuristic view, but I was several tequila slammers in.

I burst into the first door of the corridor, immediately cringing as I was met with a heated freshman make-out, ew.

Pulling myself back through the door and uttering a half-hearted apology, I took a second to blink myself back into perspective, trying to make sense of the spinning world around me.

Behind the second door, was nothing, the only untouched room on the floor.

An untouched door at a highschool party was pretty much unheard of.

The third held a group of girls crowded around another girl, who was crying intensely as they all whispered sweet messages in her ears, yelling at me for invading their privacy as I held my hands up in defence.

Four high pitched voices squeaked at me to get out, something that was hardly troubling.

The fourth time is a charm, hey?

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Two girls stood up at the oak sideboard, the pounding in my mind getting significantly heavier as I caught wind of what they were doing, a crisp bill folded in half in one hand, and a little baggy in the other.

get.

the.

fuck.

out.

of.

here.

The girl on the right looked up at me, her thick winged liner catching my eye as she spoke slurred dispositions to me.

"Hey there, foster, want a bite?" She winked seductively at me as she nodded toward the drugs, her friend snorting one of the eight white lines up on the counter.

I blinked a couple of times impulsively, a tear welling in my waterline as I opened my mouth, unable to form a reply.

I was drafted back in time to my sixteenth birthday, being high as a kite the whole day and beating up some guy on the street at half past midnight because he didn't know where I could get a deal.

the worst year of my life.

I got clean just after I turned seventeen, and my history with drugs was an aspect of myself I wished never to have to relive again, and I held myself to it.

Going cold turkey on an addiction nobody knew you had to a drug nobody knew you could get hold of at sixteen was one hell of an experience, and one that ruined my entire life.

I gulped, shaking my head intensely and slamming the door shut, leaning against the panelled wall as I grasped desperately onto my breath.

shit.

  shit.

      shit.

           shit.

Just then, I felt a slight vibration against my head, emitting from the wall of the fifth room.

The painting in the sleek black frame behind me bounced off of the wall a little, setting me forward as I jumped to conclusions.

You better be fucking kidding me.

After another deep breath, I pulled the door open, immediately lost for words as soon as the lock clicked.

My girlfriend, on top of my best friend.

I don't even wanna elaborate.

Her deep red hair hung over her shoulder, traipsing along the cave of his chest.

Her head spun to meet mine, looking into my eyes as she spoke in a squeaky high-pitched manner.

"Baby, It's not what it looks like, I promise you." her words were slurred but coarse, the audible tears catching at the back of her throat.

"Oh, yeah. wow." I spat, my eyes welling as I looked at her, a faint smile of disbelief curling at the ends of my lips.

I ran a hand over the faint stubble at the bottom of my chin, a scoff vibrating against the pale of my lips, my eyes reaching the back of my head as I tapped my foot rhythmically against the hardwood.

"Yeah, Annie, Fuck you. It's exactly what it looks like." Dion chimed in, rolling his eyes at her as they separated, I turned around in hopes of not seeing anything I didn't want to.

A cold hand caressed the top of my shoulder, sending a painful shiver along the small of my back.

I saw the pale pink of her nails in the corner of my eye, her head resting in the crook of my neck as i shrugged her off.

"Piss off." I spat not even bothering to turn to look at her.

"Baby, I love you, please remember that." she sobbed, why the hell was she crying?

"Yeah, and you love having my best friend inside you too, but I suppose that's just part of the package, right?" a dry laugh erupted from my lungs, one signalling pain and distress.

I spun on my heel, looking directly into her eyes, both of our reflections blurred and shiny as we cried.

"You can't fucking say that to me!" she yelps, pacing now as Dion slips past her in an attempt to leave the room.

"Just did," I smile at her, before spinning to the sight of my best friend.

I place a hand on his chest, slurred words spilling from such a violent place inside of me as a steep ringing held high in my mind.

"I'm not letting you off that easy."

He writhed under my touch as I gripped his shirt, furrowing his eyebrows as he pulled the innocent act.

"Just cause your girl preferred me over you, we've been at this for weeks and you ain't even noticed." he smiled, rows of pearly white teeth glistening behind the brights of the moon.

But his hot shot demeanour was cut short as I launched my clenched fist to his face, my knuckle cracking slightly as the blood began to pour from his nose, a similar red to that overflowing from the graze in my ringed knuckle.

At that point, he was aiming for a punch back, and Annie was yelling some bullshit about being civil and adult, but I had already headed for the stairs.

I clung onto the railing as I moved quickly on my feet, giggling slightly as the adrenaline coursed through my veins.

Weaving my way through the sweaty crowds, I used them to make myself less obvious, grabbing a cap directly from Alex's head as I sped past him, hiding my wavy blonde hair and using it as a cover.

I earned myself a couple of crude looks as i made my way past the groups of giggling teenagers, looking evidently maniacal.

I burst through the tall panel of the front door, hurrying out over the grass as I stopped momentarily to catch my breath.

Placing my hand on my chest, I took a second to look up, to check the coast was clear.

Ouch.

Dion knocked me right between the eyes, sending me back a little before I caught myself on my feet.

Little bitch.

He shot me a taunting smile before I swung my fist at the side of his face, he autonomously opened his mouth as he did it, spitting blood over both myself and him.

By this point, we had a whole audience, Annie stood behind Dion, thick rows of tears in her eyes as she stood there with her hand over her mouth.

And that's when she finally spoke up.

My Mother always said my face was my only value, and she would be proud to know I was not losing it to odds against a dick like Di.

"Stop it!" she shouted, her voice was high pitched as squeaky, cracking as she spoke. "Would you two bafoons just stop it!" she was sobbing now, gasping for breath as she placed herself between us, ironic.

"Dion, get the fuck out of here and go fix your face," she smiled.

He put up a little protest, but after looking around headed back inside to grab whatever shit he had in there.

"Oh and Josh," She maintained that friendly smile, "We are done."

I let out a scoff, running my hands over my face as I rolled my eyes at her.

"" I guessed that the minute you put Dion's dick in your mouth."

"You're drunk Josh, go home." a pat was placed on the top of my shoulder.

"You fucked half the football team despite having a boyfriend, Annie, get lost." I retorted back at her, throwing my hands up in the air as I backed away from her.

She followed me, edging closer as we reached the sidewalk.

"Oh Fuck me, Josh. Fuck me." her head shook in defeat, as if I had wronged her.

"No need, it seems you've already got that covered," I walked fully away now, heading back over the cold roads to my house, I could hear the cacophony of people talking behind me, but I seriously couldn't be less assed if I wanted to.

———

The minute i turned the handle on the door, the light of the hallway clicked on, revealing my mother dressed in a white robe, sat in a chair, what fuckery was this.

"Joshua" her words were harsh yet slurred, she was obviously tired.

"Mom."

"Have you any idea what time it is?" her brows craned, shit was getting wierd.

"I dunno' like late?" I giggled slightly, unintentionally and completely to the point of the alcohol.

"Your drunk." she huffed, sniffling as she held a long thin cigarrette between her red lips.

"Ding, Ding Ding! Sherlock's got it!" I shouted, smiling erratically as I clapped my hands at her.

"Stop with your funny business, now get out."

She turned away from me now, her venomous words falling from her mouth as easily as a feather dropping.

"What?"

"Leave Joshua, I dont care when, i dont care where, just get out of my god damn house." her voice was hushed now as she put out her cigarette on the ashtray in front of her.

"Mhm, no." I smiled back at her. My lips pinched upward at the corners, my eyebrows raising slightly at the curve of my smile.

"My god. you look just like your father," she spoke smoothly, knowing that she was causing pain.

I took a sharp inhale, my mom was an ass, I had worked that out a while ago. But this was far fetched.

"Now get out!" she yelled.

My sister was sat on the stairs now, her pale yellow hair tied in braids and the pink love heart pjs i got her for christmas over her small frame, mouthing something at me softly, but i couldn't see her properly through my clouded gaze.

"Grandma." i finally caught on.

Lucy had always been miles smarter than I ever had, always knowing what to do and say and when to, a skill i had never possessed.

My mom knew what she was doing when she told me I was like my father, because not only did it hurt her to mention it, but it hurt me too.

Anything revolving around dad had always been a sticky subject, I spent majority of my time pretending he wasn't real, that I never had a dad in the first place and therefore I never lost him.

Mom felt that way too, until recently, her new boyfriend was a complete angel to my mom, and I was greatful to him for making her happy again, but he was a bit slow when it came round to the whole step-kids thing.

He tried, i garuntee that, but despite being middle aged with 3.5 billion nieces and nephews, he sucked at being anything more than my moms boyfriend.

Not that I wanted a new dad or anything, it just would've been nice to be able to have someone.

Ever since she started seeing him, my mom and Bill kept seperate from the two of us, kinda treating us as roommates then kids, and mom began to acknowledge Dad a little more, but not in the right ways.

I looked alot like him, whereas Lucy looked like her, and she began to take out her anger with him on me, fuck knows why.

Pulling myself back from my string of thoughts, I looked back at Luce, a concerned look on her face.

All I did was nod slightly, turning around and heading back out into the cold air.

Going to my grandmas was a safe bet, she had practically raised both Lucy and I, and her doors where always open.

Her and my gramps where my dads parents, and although they resented him as much as the rest of us, they where the only people who never took out their anger with some horrible man out on his children.

The trees were blowing and I could hear the distant hoot of an owl, a thick headache already rising from my eyes upward.

School tomorrow is going to be so fun.

Nearly all of the streets were empty, but you would expect that for 2.15am on a tuesday night or wednesday morning, I actually didn't know which.

Most of the people out on the streets came from the same place I had, signalling that the party had eventually ended, which was lucky considering the fact that I had to walk back past Alex's house to get to my grandmothers.

The lawn was strewn with cups and bottles, the occasional handbag dropped on the floor, classic high-school party left overs.

None of the lights in the house were turned on, but that had to be expected, I could NOT be cleaning up a party right now.

suddenly, a small voice spoke up from the sidewalk to the right of me, and i saw a face i hadn't expected to see.

Maddox Richards.

She was one of my best friends in elementary, but had had a wierd crush on me since the third grade, and got in some kind of cat fight with Annie when she found out we were together, she had turned out to be just a bit of a wierdo really.

"Josh." she spoke, a stream of mascara doubling down the apples of her cheeks, the side of her dress torn slightly.

"Madds?" i looked at her, puzzled as I put my hand out to help her up.

"What the hell is up, are you okay?" my brows furrowed, I noticed her minor inability to stand as I tossed her arm over my shoulder and placed my arm at her side.

"I tried to confront Dion about Annabel, didnt end well," she smiled, nodding to the big scratch along her forehead and red mark on her leg, blood dripping along her knee from a small laceration, falling all the way down to her white socks.

"He did that?"

"Mhm, I fucked up pretty bad huh." she giggled, this poor girl.

Dion was violent, I knew that, she knew that, Hell.
He knew that.

But part of me was sure she just wanted to be loved. Loved in away she had never been loved before.

"Maddie, you needa' go to the doctors, that cut looks deep." I lifted the corner of her curled hair slightly, it was matted and blood stained, a little sticky from the residue of sweat, revealing a small shard of glass lodged in the corner.

Her next few sentences where whispered, as if she was afraid,  as if she was ashamed. "No, No. No. No. No. No. my mom will kill me."

She was shaking her head dramatically at me now, tears dropping from her eyes rythmically, dropping to the hem of my shirt as I held her.

"You have the bottom of a fucking Samuel Adam's bottle lodged in your forehead." I rolled my eyes at her, a sympathic smile spreading along my chapped lips, bursting the cut on the bottom a little, rerouting myself toward the bridge that lead to the ER.

And that's when it hit me, why take her to the ER when I could bring it to her, figuratively.

"Madd, keep your eyes open for me, is Isla home? She did medical training in Wisconsin right, she can help us?" I asked, referring to her older sister, I was pulling at loose strings at this point.

All she could handle was a nod, her eyes rolling back ever so slightly as she stood, and after realising she was completely relying on me to be upright, i swooped her up in my arms bridal style and headed hastily toward her house.

Holy shit did this look wierd.

I spent the whole journey asking her questions, trying to keep her mind busy, but my heart was beating at one hundred miles per hour and my thoughts were becoming foggy.

She lived in a classic blue pannelled town house by the dock, a place that I once spent everyday at.

Her house looked the same as it did years ago, a swingset and a tree in the front yard, a singular light on in the livingroom, two cars parked up along the sidewalk outside.

As I looked down, she was practically unconscious, her eyes flickering every once in a while but offering nothing more than that.

She was alive, but she wasnt living.

I slowly climbed the stairs, securing her in my arms as my drunken body scaled the stone steps.

After a few moments, I drew my gaze up from the cut on her head, placing her down slightly and throwing her thin arm over my shoulder, wrapping my lettermen's around her as my fist met with the wood of the front door.

A minute passed.

Once again, my calloused and bleeding bones met with the door, this time a light flicked on from behind the frosted glass, showing a black silhouette of a girl I had come to know all too well.

She twisted the handle and flung the door back dramatically, beginning a brash and harsh sentiment, but her own breath short-circuited her thought process.

Isla's deep blue eyes where practically popping out of her head, her ivory skin growing paler than before.

"Maddox!" she yelped, pushing past me dismissively and gripping her slender hand around her little sister.

Gently turning her head away, Islas gaze took mine, her brows furrowing in horror as she looked at me, a crystal layer forming over her cerulean blue eyes.

"Did you do this?" Isla seethed, her voice croaky and short as she methodically held Maddox, bringing her through the door and leaving me out on the step.

I gulped.

My words were slow and separated, a disastrous combination of horror, anger, sadness and drunken incompetence.

"No, No. God no." I reassured her, stepping through the doorway and shutting the door behind me.

The home was decorated messily, cluttered and homely, safe.

My eyes met the lounge, a mirror image of the one I stood in a near decade ago.

Isla rushed her younger sister in to the kitchen, pulling out a chair and helping her down into it, I just stood awkwardly in the corner.

within seconds, she left the room and returned, clutching a green first aid box in her arms, she was shaking a little, obviously completely overwhelmed with the situation.

Abruptly, she spun on her heel, facing me as silent tears mopped along the apples of her cheeks.

"Look, Josh, you've been a great help, and I'm sure that considering her current situation my sister would say the same, but I think it's time you go." she smiled, patting my shoulder as she put down the box.

"Awh, no don't worry, I can stay." I returned her sultry smile, hoping aimlessly to just be there for my friend.

"No. I'm telling you to leave."

I nodded, getting past my own feelings and attempting to put myself in either of their shoes.

"See ya tomorrow Madds."