Johnny gives me something I’ve never had before—a choice. A voice. The freedom to be me without judgment and concern that I won’t be accepted.
All Griffin wanted to do was bring me down.
It’s been weeks since I did what had to be done, and I’m still not sure what the outcome was. It’s not exactly like I can call and ask if he’s alive. I have to wait it out and see what happens. And then hope like hell I don’t get caught.
There’s a very real chance that poisoning Griffin did not work, but there’s still a chance it did. Either way, I will keep that secret with me to the grave. Johnny has loved me through so much, but could he handle knowing I killed someone, and that I did it intentionally?
That might be too much for anyone to bear.
I wouldn’t blame him for seeing me as a monster, but I’m not sure that’s a reality I’m willing to face. What if I lose him? When I followed through with poisoning Griffin, I was trying to put him in the past. I wanted to sever ties with him and stop allowing him from controlling my life. But little did I know, there’s no escaping someone who has their clawsthatdeeply sunk into you.
“I’ve heard this creative writing class is thebomb.” Rosie puts a little extra flair on that last word. “Hey.” She glances over at me. “You okay?”
I nod and lie. “Yeah.” I didn’t realize being away from Johnny would be this…uncomfortable. We’ve been together nonstop for the past few months, aside from errands here and there, so spendinghoursaway at school day after day will be the longest we’ve been apart. Maybe if we hadn’t been through such traumatic shit, I wouldn’t feel this way, but we have, and pretending to be a normal college kid is weirder than I thought it was going to be.
“Ah, you and JJ.” She glances around. “Sorry,Theo.” Rosie grips me tighter. “Makes sense. But listen, I’ll be with you, so you aren’t alone.”
What if it’s not me I’m worried about? What if it’s Johnny? I have Rosie, and I get to at least play the part of a functioning person in society. Johnny is stuck all cooped up in our apartment worried sick that something will happen to me, or someone will come for him. There has to besomeway to give him his life back so he’s not constantly afraid of endless possibilities.
We walk into the classroom and go toward the back. I haven’t been in such a crowded space since everything went down, so choosing a seat where I can keep my eyes on everyone puts me a little at ease. From here, I have a clear view of the door, too. Although, given there is only one exit, I’ll have to get creative if something were to happen.
Is that what life is going to be like now? Constantly looking for a way out? Thinking everyone around me is a potential suspect? Until Franklin, I was naive to the world around me. I thought the shit that I witnessed first-hand was only stuff they made up in the movies. Witnessing Jared and Steve bleed out in that alley by Bram’s, and Johnny getting shot not too long after, made me realize just how cruel people really can be.
Everything that Jared had done to me aside, did he and Steve really deserve to be shot and left for dead? They were someone’s children, friends, maybe significant other. With all the time I’ve spent with Johnny, I know damn well that he never deserved the endless beatings and the near-death experience. Who gave Franklin the right to play God? To end someone’s life because they inconvenienced him?
I guess at the end of the day, I’m not much better than him, considering what I did to Griffin.
But if anyone should be cowering in hiding, it should be me, not Johnny. He’s given up so much and for what? To live in constant fear? How is that fair?
“You okay?” Rosie asks me.
I snap out of my trance and bob my head up and down. “Yeah, sorry, zoned out.” I unzip my bag and pull a notebook out. If I’m going to be here, I might as well pay attention. I won’t allow Johnny’s hard-earned blood money to go to waste.
“Welcome,” the curly-headed, middle-aged man at the front of the room says. “I’m Professor Adkins. If you’re here with us now, please note that you are in Advanced Creative Writing. Course number 301.
A few students fumble with their bags and exit through that one door.
Our teacher lets out a chuckle. “Happens every time.” He leans against his desk and scans the rest of us.
Rosie kicks my foot from under the table, drawing my attention. She raises her brows and cocks her head over at the professor.
“No,” I mouth and shake my head.
She juts out her bottom lip. “Why not?”
“One,” I whisper. “That’s totally unprofessional, two, he’sold.”
Rosie sighs. “Fine.”
“You can grab your kits on the way out when class is dismissed.” Professor Adkins crosses his arms. “Anyone have any questions about that?”
Shit. I have no idea what he said. Kits for what? This isn’t exactly the best way to start my first class. Maybe taking some of my classes with Rosie was a bad idea after all. It’s fun, that’s for sure, but it’s hella distracting, too.
“Great.” He grabs a stack of papers from his desk and distributes them to the front of the class, mumbling something to the students and getting them to pass the pages back. “As you’ll see, the ancestry results will be interpreted into your final paper, along with coinciding with most of your assignments throughout the course.”
Ancestry? Is that what he meant when he was referring to the kits? That would make sense. What a strange thing to do in a creative writing class, though.
“I find that sometimes the best work comes from within, from our own experiences and those of our past. If we tap into that, and follow along with the prompts provided, I think there will be great results.”
What, was he reading my mind or something?
“I’m sure you have your doubts, but trust me with this. Most people are completely unaware of their heritage.” He goes back to leaning against his desk. “Now, on the other hand, if you already have an established knowledge, feel free to skip the test. You’ll still be required to do the work, but if you’re aware of yours, there’s no need to do the analysis. We will be going back five generations, so if you have that covered, you’re good to go.”
What do I know about my lineage? Not much. Aside from my dad’s mom, who died when I was little, it’s always just been me and Dad. I never really asked about my own mother’s family, since she was such an absent part of my life. I guess I assumed if there was anyone else, they would have cared enough to come forward.
My thoughts linger on Johnny and what little he’s told me about his family. His mother died when he was young, and he never knew his dad. He has a cousin who’s in the military, but I’m not sure if they were even blood-related.
There’s Bram, but he was just a part of Johnny’s found family, a father-figure role that Johnny never had. A piece of the past that I’m certain Johnny never wanted to give up.
I can’t fix everything that’s happening right now, especially in regard to Franklin, but what if there was a way I could bring Johnny some insight into who his family might actually be? Maybe that would bring him the littlest bit of peace in this chaotic time in his life. I owe him at least that.