How to Love

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album one, track one -- early mornin'

Corrina's house

October 5th, 1977

7:34 am

Mornings never were a grand moment in Corrina's life. Too early. Too bright. Too. . . cheery. Overall too morning-ish. There doesn't have to be a clear reason why in her book, they just suck.

And it doesn't help that Mother Nature decided today was the day for a rainstorm. A mega fucking rainstorm at that. Guess someone heard The Beatles broke up, despite the fact it occured a good many years prior. Lord knows how long it takes information to reach someone so far up.

With a yawn, Corrina swapped her leather jacket with a soft, black sweater. Not destroying her favorite jacket trumped a sexier outfit anyday in her book. She smoothed her straight hair down, plastering it down across her boobs in violet tendrils, knowing all too well the minute she steps outside, she can kiss any thought of having even a tamed hair day goodbye.

"Why do I even need to go to school?" She mumbled to herself, swinging her shoulder bag around. The straps tangled in her right fist. The edge of the bag clipped the wall, leaving a loud bang in its wake. Her breath hitched in her throat, allowing the silence to coat the room momentarily, enough for the teen to survey any damage. More importantly, survey the possibility of Chicago-

"Don't even finish that thought, Corey." Chicago boomed down the hall, stopping in the doorway with a look so stern it could be charged with murder two. She managed to balance little Felicity on her hip. The baby sat, too enthralled with a dish rag to even notice Corrina. Sighing, Chicago began pushing the younger girl out the door, somehow strong enough to withstand the power of Corrina digging the heels of her boots into the hardwood floor of the living room doorway.

Too late.

"Because a good education is the only way to get out of this hellhole," Corrina mocked in imitation of Chicago's high voice. Rolling her eyes, she caught herself before she fell into the door, reluctantly walking out onto her porch. One step closer to doomsday.

Chicago shook her head, frustration more than evident with a furry of her neat, half plucked brows. "You know I'm right. Just try and have a good day." When she didn't respond, the brunette continued, stepping towards the tall girl. "This is your old stomping grounds, you're bound to meet up with someone you used to know and raise hell."

A cheeky grin broke out on Corrina's face. She couldn't deny the prospect of that enticed and excited her, but it's still school. It sucks. Useless. Just a way for the government to see who's easy enough to control and who isn't.

Chicago beamed at her younger sister and best friend, bouncing her baby daughter on her hip. Finally, she found a way to get Corrina to listen, about time she would have. Push comes to shove, the woman managed to find a way to bring Corrina back to earth most of the time. The one time she doesn't, fear would strike. Chicago feared that one time possibly could be her last. Pushing any doubts about it to the back of her mind, Chicago wrapped her fingers around her daughter's tiny wrist, waving goodbye at her sister as she began the decent walk to school.

"She won't make it past first period." She told her daughter through clenched teeth, a tight grin holding back her bitter frown, knowing she won't be able to fall back asleep. Felicity giggled, covering her gleeful face with her already sticky hands.

Corrina, despite all her doubts and fears, continued the beaten path towards her hell. Damn, she was actually following Chicago's instructions for once. It shocked her to her core. But, her mind held on to her sister's statement with an ironclad grip.

Raising hell was the only thing she did best.


School Yard

October 5, 1977

7:58 am

School began in a millisecond, and there still remained one noticable absentee. Scott Thomas.

Trudging along, slow as usual, he gave zero shits. Correction, he gave less than zero shits because the former implied he even cared enough for the zero to rise. He gave negative shits.

High as hell already. The best way to begin a day. He lit up before he even left the house. It paid to live with someone who doesn't even care enough to come home on a daily basis.

Now, with his aviators on, band t-shirt on full display, and an 'I don't give a fuck' attitude; he's ready to begin the day. Even if he will dip out sometime after first period.

"You're late," Serena Reynolds, the newest member of Scott's friend group, chimed in a sing-song-y voice with a wide, pearly smile to match. Always so chipper. On days like this, it annoyed the shit out of Scott.

"Get bent," Scott mumbled low enough, doubting anyone actually heard him. Still tired from his late night at the concert yesterday. Him and the rest of the gang enjoyed the music, but Heather Swanson and Matthew Burroughs spent most of it cozied up in the Vista Cruiser, Julian's father's car. The lanky boy managed to blackmail his father into doing his bidding somehow someway. Scott didn't press. Free concert and free ride, why would he complain?

"Nah, Serena," Julian Ray, Scott's longtime friend, interjected in a dry tone, "on time is when Scott decides to actually show up." Julian rubbed his eyes, yawning loud enough others around caught notice. Some whispered. Some laughed. Some shrugged it off. Scott cursed under his breath, cupping his lips around his still lit cigarette. Fog errupted in front of Scott's eyes, steaming up the lens to his aviators. Claire scooted away from the smoke, sticking her nose up in the air the other way. Serena sniffed, nose scrunching up as the toxic smoke entered her lungs. A loud gravely cough left her lips, leading her to swat it away with a chorus of Julian's chuckles.

"At least someone finally understands." Scott chuckled a little longer and louder than usual, smile a little more genuine than sarcastic. Thank weed. It's always thanks to weed. His only true love in this world, besides his love for Led Zeppelin and rock music. A strand of his sandy, curly hair fell in his eyes thanks to the blustering wind engulfing their small town. A storm brewed on the horizon. Scott prepared himself, a single curl in his eyes was the least of his concerns.

Taking another puff, he lowered his cigarette and arm to his side, not so subtly hiding it as he released the spray of smoke towards one of the bitchy rich girls strutting their shit on by him. Their squeals hit his ears, sending sparks through his other frigid body. One winked over their shoulder, giggling as she scurried on away with her friends. He pressed his back up against the brick wall, stepping with his left foot against it, a satisfied grin twinging at the ends of his lips.

"Guys, guys!" Matthew bolted down the hall, screaming each of their names; a look of sheer joy took over the usually (semi) calm in the morning Matthew Burroughs. He hit his peak, in Scott's words, stupidity more towards the late morning/early afternoon when he had a chance to wake up, only getting more ditzy as the day went on. While Matthew had been one of Scott's friends since Matt moved up to town in second grade, it didn't give the taller boy a pass in his studipity book. Still annoyed Scott all the same. "Guess what?"

"There's a naked woman at school?" Serena asked, still with a wide grin that refused to falter, earning a high-five from Scott and a scold from Claire Anthony. Serena, despite being anxious for the possibility of catching a glimpse, knew it must be true by Matthew's actions. Fear soon spread, remembering where they were, and retreated into her shell. Scott shot her a confused stare, but she dismissed it, causing him to drop it before anyone caught on.

"We get to skip school and watch Star Wars?" asked Julian, eyes twinkling in delight at the possibility with a smile longer than the interstate.

"School's cancelled?" asked Claire, voice cracking from joy. Hands clenched her textbooks over her chest, something that striked Scott the wrong way. Nobody noticed, too absorbed in the discourse surrounding Matt and his news.

Burroughs shook his head. "Corrina's back!" Nobody responded. Sharing mirroring expressions of confusion and defeat. Matt's childish grin refused to waver despite it. "Remember the chick who always kicked Ray's ass when he was stupid? In elementary school?"

"Is she hot?" Julian deadpanned, no sense of care whether Claire or Serena noticed. The rebel rolled his eyes, puffing out one final drag before throwing his cigarette butt on the ground, putting it out with the bottom of his worn boot. A mischevious smirk found itself across Scott's rugged features, the entire thing amusing him. Matthew and Serena - even Julian - worked themselves up everytime a new person transfered to their rundown school. And everytime they got crushed when the person they admired fell into the arms of another, or on Serena's behalf, were a crazy psycho. Scott Thomas learned long ago not to fall for anyone in this antiquated town. All they brought was boredom and pain.

Matthew nodded his head, mouth agape and smiling like a goof. "Fuck yeah! I just saw her when I left the office."

"And why were you in the office?" Julian inquired despite everyone knowing it was probably for some prank he was foolish enough to get caught for. Always the prankster, Matthew and Scott teamed up for the most elaborate plots, many successful. From running the principal's car into the school pool to rigging the school's speakers with music many couldn't believe existed. Scott even streaked in front of the president hopeful during a campaign stop at the high school.

No one ever forgot how much Scott and Matthew hate the fuz on their asses.

"I snuck out of class to make out with Heather, and the janitor caught me with my pants down in the girls bathroom." Burroughs appeared remorseful for a second, but that didn't last long. Long enough for him to forget about Corrina for Heather, then hop back on the C-Train. "But damn, she's hot. Like hot hot. Like-"

"We get it, Burroughs. She's hot." Scott sighed, already done with the whole 'school' thing. He'd much rather be chilling at Lunch In, the hottest local eatery for local teens, or back at his loft listening to his records with a fresh blunt rolled and lit. Pressed between his lips right where it should be.

And that's when a tall girl with violet hair and boots walked down the hall with a smirk. It was like time stopped, everything going in slow motion. Hair blowing behind her like a huge, unknown fan blew wind her way. No makeup yet still sexy. In a see through sweater and her black lace bra on full display, yet walked like she doesn't care if anyone saw. Like she currently strutted down a catwalk instead of a bleak, school hall. Tight jeans accentuated her hips, ass and her thighs, matching with a set of black platforms. Glasses sat loosely atop the bridge of her nose, small circle rims plus a black accent. The lenses add a certain sparkle to her already radiant jade green eyes. Her being radiated this aura of confidence and raw, sexual energy, dragging Scott in with this undeniable magnetism until heat encompassed his everything, images dancing in his brain.

Where has this girl been all my life? Scott thought, peeking through his illicit thoughts. So scandalous he hoped no government worker chose this moment to spy in his thoughts. Yet another conspiracy theory he found himself indulging in the possibility of. He tilted his aviators down enough so he managed to get a better view of the mysterious punk vixen, leaving himself wide open for the gang to tease him later on. Scott would gladly take any amount of ridicule for even a mynute of a second to stare at this girl, to feel the sensation of her hands gliding themselves across his chest.

"Corrina Jackson?" A girl's voice shouted. Clare's voice.

That's Corrina? He wondered in amazement. Unable to hide his adornment and shock any longer. Soon, his hallmark aviators would no longer be enough to shield his attraction. She looks a little familiar.

The girl broke through a daze, and ran over to Claire. Her chunky platforms clash with the tile floor below, leaving thunderous echos in its wake. The red head pulled her in a big bear hug, then passing her around to Burroughs and Ray like a joint. Serena tried to get in on the action, arms out and waiting for her turn, but she didn't notice her, too absorbed with her old friends.

"Doesn't Serena get a turn to hug the pretty girl?" She sighed, deciding to just go ahead and hug her while she caught up with Claire. The overwhelming scent of Serena's perfume infiltrating Corrina's nose, pulling her out of the reunion euphoria.

"Um, who are you?" Corrina asked, arms up high, voice slightly irritated. She tried to break the hug to no avail. It freaked her to the core. Corrina panicked, eyes darting from Claire around to the boys for any kind of help. Matthew gawked at it like your typical schoolboy watching porn for the first time. Eyes wide and mouth agape, jaw floored.

"I am Serena. And I have needs. One of them is a hug from a pretty girl like you." With a huge grin on her face, she contiued to hug her much to Corrina's despair

Matthew picked Serena up at her waist and slung her over his shoulder. "That's enough hugging for now. Don't need you scaring off Corrina before she even gets to meet me. I'll help you fill your 'needs' later."

She's even wearing a guitar pick necklace with a pot leaf on it, Scott grinned internally, twitching his dogtag between his index finger and thumb. Can she get anymore perfect?

"Close your mouth before you catch flies, Thomas." Claire laughed at the bewildered stare he gave her. He then noticed the mirrored look splattered Corrina's face too. But he could have sworn that smile hid a devious undertone. It had to of. He wanted it to.

A hand covered Corrina's mouth as she tried not to laugh. Her jade eyes lit up suddenly like a light flickered on inside them. "Scott Thomas?" He nodded. "Oh my gosh, I haven't seen you in forever. You used to call me CoCo because-"

"Coke is made with cocaine. That's why it's so addictive. The government does that because they're trying to make it easier to control us," they said in unison, both smiling at each other. Scott couldn't believe it, the same girl he hung out with all then. The girl who loved Coke and the Beatles.

Scott's whole demeanor softened, relaxing back in his mind. They were only in first grade when they first met at the Rays' home. She chugged a Coke faster than anyone he knew while he sipped on a beer he unknowingly stole from Julian's hardass father, Viper. He called her CoCo everyday after that. Until she moved away the following year. No word. No nothing.

That's when the bell rang.

Within a split second, Julian and Claire ran off to the left. The girl yelling at Corrina that they would catch up later, after school. Matthew lingered a little while longer, still unable to take his eyes off of her - most likely due to her see through sweater and exposed bra - and then sprinted towards his first class the moment he realized it was gym. Serena tagged along with him, still slung over Burrough's shoulder. The jocks always enjoyed Serena dropping in on their classes, especially when she unapologetically begins to flirt with them.

That left Scott with Corrina.

"Do you really want to be here?" She asked, arms crossed over her chest. Her once doe, innocent eyes, now held a taunting gleam, like her smile seemed to hold in disguise earlier. Her laid back demeanor shifted into one dripping in taunting badassery. And boy did it devour him in one delectable bite.

Now on to dessert.

"Huh?" He shook his head, missing every word she said. Too caught up with her and the memories. And the dirty, sensual thoughts dancing about. All he wanted now was a blunt, a nice shower, and Corrina all wrapped up in one.

She glided across the tile floor seductively, closing the gap between them. Her hand held out for him. "The Scott Thomas I remember hated the system, namely the school system. So, let's get out of here." Delicate fingers danced across his chest in a straight line from the middle of his chest up to the top, parallel to his collarbone. Then, she ran her fingers down to his biceps where a fresh hidden tattoo resided, resting her hand there, on and off rubbing it with a sly smirk. Scott gulped, fireworks scorching his skin whenever her fingers make contact.

He laughed, dry yet still true. But he didn't utter a word. Eyes trained on her. Studying her every move. It reminded him of a more recent time, of a familiar girl. But the lighting in the woods that night was too dim for him to have gotten a good look at the girl. Starting by the bar, turning it up to a thousand in the backseat of her pickup soon after.

Since he hadn't moved an inch, Corrina took the initiative, taking his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. "And after the night you had last night, I highly doubt you really want to be stuck in a classroom for eight hours."

Shit. He shook his head internally. It couldn't have been her last night. At the concert. By the bar. In the pickup. Could it? It can't be. Mind rattled, everything but last night's events wiped from his memory bank. He searched and searched for something, anything familar to tie her to it all.

Light bulb.

"It was you?"

Her devious grin said it all. "Me." She tapped his chest.

"Me." Again, only lower.

"Me." And lower.

Leaning in, she whispered, voice so low and confident. It sent shockwaves through his skin, sending shivers up and down his spine. He sharply inhaled through his teeth, now painfully aware of the officers spying on their every move. It only turned him on. "What are you waiting for?"

After that, Corrina pulled herself away from him. They walked, hand in hand, out the front door, ready to raise hell.

And Scott couldn't wait to spend the whole day with her. Alone.

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