money. for the proper definition, please see skrill.

but on to synchronicity..

skrilla is my best friend. i'm not a drooling capitalist or anything; his real name's frank. or frankie louis, cause he hates that. i'm waiting for him to call me back.

i met skrilla my freshman year in high school. we had washington state history together and he and this fucker dave would make fun of me when i came to school dressed up for debate. eventually, he was my first boyfriend. my first kiss. my first lots of things. and for a while we hated each other, but eventually we were setting each other up with other friends and skating together in the evening and getting high in the parking lot on our lunch break.

the first time i saw him outside of school, we were at a party at our friend denise's. everyone had a forty of mickeys, and people were playing music in the living room. incredibly drunk, me and skrilla and shawn (the uber-punk), walked down to the end of the cul de sac. and shawn wandered off to take a piss and never came back. so skrilla and i walked to the home of another kid we knew, jess, who we hated. and we threw rocks at his window until he woke up, and then cursed at him and flipped him off and ran away. we went back to denise's and sat on the couch. skrilla jumped up in the air, screaming 'aieeee! spider!' and there was no spider. i know you had to be there, but it counted.

i made him a t-shirt, with fingernail polish, that said 'cool beans.' he still wears it.

his band wrote a song about me, after we broke up.

one afternoon, we were going out to the parking lot to get high. skrilla and dave were ahead of me and jeremiah. we could see them across the parking lot. and we saw security come after them. by the time the guard reached the car, they had already started. we stood paralyzed, not knowing what to do, feeling guilty. we kept walking away from school, to a park nearby. and we saw the cops come. and he got arrested. that night, we all went out and got drunk. he smelled like a jail cell.

in tacoma, we were walking around with amanda, and were approached by this guy. he says, 'do you kids get high? don't worry, i'm a nice black man.'
skrilla went off with him to get some weed. after walking around aimlessly for a while, amanda and i caught up to him. he was sitting on a patch of dirty grass, looking apprehensive.
'did you get it?' i asked.
'he's coming back.'
'you're gonna buy it out here?' it was a busy street, lots of people walking by.
'no, i already gave him the money. he just went to get it.'
oh, frank..
we threw rocks at the guy's window and he shouted for us to go away. we got into the apartment building, but he wouldn't answer the door, and we were just scared high school kids. for a long time, until it was dark, we sat on the sidewalk, hoping he would come out. eventually we got back on the bus.

he was born a week before me, to the day, and we got our tattoos together. skrilla never paid for his, because the tattoo artist ran off to mexico shortly thereafter.

he's dating a girl i call n'sync girl cause i can never remember her name and he's in a band called buddy ravel. i never see him anymore.

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