Audrey raced down the staircase and hurried into the kitchen when she heard the front door close. "Is he here yet?
Her hair was nice and neat. Her make-up would suggest that she was going out to a luxurious restaurant rather than the run-down airport that she was actually scheduled to be arriving at soon. She wore a light blue dress that complimented her hips and showed a tad bit too much in Josh's opinion. She swore she was dressed up to look good for the many photos they were going to inevitably take at her sister's lake house. However, her sons knew the true reason. Her ex-husband Martin was coming over to pick Drake up. He couldn't attend the family's summer vacation because he'd failed his senior year. Therefore, he had to stay at his father's house so that he'd have easy access to his tutor every week day. Audrey didn't see her ex often, but when she did, she liked to rub in his face what he was missing out on. She wanted him to know that she was successful and well and beautiful and happy without him.
"Not yet," Josh said, sitting across from Megan at the kitchen table.
Audrey anxiously looked at her watch. "Where is he? We're gonna miss our plane? He hasn't changed a bit."
Megan was hurt by the snarky remarks she often heard her mother and father say about each other. It confused her how two people who used to be in love could ever be filled with so much hatred towards the other.
Audrey saw that her comment had hit a nerve inside of Megan, so she brushed the subject off. "Where's Walter?"
"He was putting the last of the bags in Grammy's car. I think we're all set."
"I can't believe you guys are actually going without me," Drake exclaimed. "That's not fair!"
Audrey stood in front of her oldest son. "Honey, you know that I'd love for you to come. But if you don't pass this next test after the summer's up, you're gonna have to repeat the twelfth grade."
Drake rolled his eyes.
She gently rubbed his bicep. "Maybe this time around, you'll try a little harder? Hmm?"
He groaned. "Couldn't I have stayed with anyone else?"
"I know you and your dad aren't the best of friends, but you're gonna be with him for two months. This is some real bonding time for you two. Couldn't you just try to get along with him?"
"Mom, you can't even stand to be in the same room with him. Why should I have to?"
"Because he's your father. Now come on. Go grab your things from upstairs. He should be here any minute."
Drake walked past her, rolling his eyes yet again. He hated going to his dad's house, and he just plain out hated his dad. The man didn't take care of him, and he hardly knew that the boy was there until he was drunk off of his ass and his strong fist got a little itchy for some action. Two months of THAT was gonna be hell. As Drake trudged up the steps, he heard the phone ring.
"It's Martin," came Audrey's distant voice, then, "Where the hell are you?! You're two hours late! You forgot?! How the hell do you forget to pick up your own son?! Typical!"
Typical is right. Audrey never hesitated to remind Martin just how much of a piece of shit he is, and he never failed to return the favor. If he was that shitty of a person, why was Drake and Megan forced to go over there all the time? Well, Megan volunteered. Martin treated her like a queen. She was Daddy's little angel. Where she went, Drake would follow. Her harsh words and taunts and pranks were nothing compared to the beatings his father would give him, and Martin wouldn't dare to lay a hand on Drake when his daughter was around. The worst times were when Megan was asleep or in the shower. Drake had no protection then, and his father would be coming for him with a vengence.
"Drake opened the door to his room and grabbed his bags and his guitar case, then went downstairs, rejoining his mom and siblings.
"Your father's running a little late. We can't miss this flight. You think you'll be okay on your own for a little while. He should get here soon."
"I'll be fine, Mom."
"You sure?"
"Of course. I can take care of myself."
Audrey sighed with relief, then kissed him on the cheek. "Great. We have to get going. Don't hesitate to call. And please study. And brush your teeth. And don't stay out too late. And try to get along-"
"Mom! Okay! Go!"
She smiled, then gave him another kiss. "I love you."
"Love you."
"Come on, kids. Let's get in the car."
When they were all gone and the door was closed, Drake sighed. Alone. It felt great, and he was going to enjoy every last second that he could squeeze out of it before his father got here and ruined it.
Drake sat on the couch, gently stroking the chords on his guitar. He hummed along because he couldn't quite remember the words since he'd just recently written the song. The reason for his bad memory was located on the coffee table in front of him: his pipe and a small bag of weed. If he was going to stay with his father, he definitely needed some sort of help getting through the boredom and beatings. Help, meet Drake. Drake, meet help.
The boy rested the instrument on his lap, then picked up the pipe, put one end to his lips, flickered the lighter over the bowl of marijuana, and inhaled. The smoke tickled his throat and left a familiar taste in his mouth. Part of him wanted to go downstairs and devour some popcorn...and maybe some chocolate syrup. However, the more dominant part of him was too lazy and tired to move that much. Drake set the pipe down after taking one more hit, then picked up his guitar again. He was silent since he was holding in his breath. Instead, he was talking to himself in his mind. He pondered the idea of how guitars made sound and how anything made sound at all and what exactly sound looks like. Is sounds a "he?" Is "he" attractive? "He" sounds attractive. Is "he" single? And then Drake forgot who the "he" was that he was referring to. Was he just having dirty thoughts about a guy?
He let go of his breath and smoke rose into the air, then dissipated. He relaxed his muscles, and started plucking the notes to a Beatles song having completely forgotten that he was in the middle of another song.
"You ready to go?"
Drake jumped to his feet and turned around with tensed muscles. His high was suddenly gone. Just like that. He tried to block his father's view of the coffee table as much as possible. "Shit! Dad! Can't you knock?!"
"Can't you get your ass in the truck."
"I'm coming. Let me just put my guitar in the case."
"Hurry up. I'm missing the game." And with that, Martin was gone.
Drake sighed with relief, then turned and looked down at the table, cursing himself for not hiding his weed sooner. He quickly put the bag into his back pocket, then hid the pipe in his guitar case. After that he turned off the light and went downstairs. Of course his father didn't try to grab a single one of his bags. Drake reached down to pick them up, but was shoved slightly to the side by his father, who'd just walked out of the kitchen as he finished up the last bite of his sandwich. The boy managed to steady his feet and stay standing.
"You think I didn't know what that smell was? Huh?!" Drake was shoved against the wall. "You think I was born yesterday?!"
"You know, I kinda just thought you weren't even gonna show up, so what the fuck, right?" Drake tried not to let any fear show.
"Give me the weed. Give it to me!"
"There isn't anymore."
"Bullshit!" He pushed the boy's shoulder. "You sure as hell don't want me to find it myself, do you? Because you know I will."
Drake glared up at him. He wouldn't give in to him. He wasn't going to stand for his dad treating him like this. No matter what beatings his father gave him, he couldn't get himself to satisfy his dad. Most of the time.
Martin visciously stuck his hand inside one of the boy's jeans pockets, then the other. When he found that those came up with no results, he pushed himself against Drake to pin him against the wall, then he wrapped his arms around him and stuck his hands into his back pockets. Drake felt uncomfortable with his father's body pushed against his own and Martin's hands on his ass.
"Get off of me!" He was too weak to shove the man away, and the wall ceased him from moving backwards.
"Ah ha! What's this?" Martin held up the bag, forcing Drake to look at his findings.
Since the boy was so busy gazing at his lost possession, he didn't notice the back of his father's hand coming towards his face until it made contact with his skin.
"Now give me your pipe."
This time, Drake did as he was told. He reached down and opened his guitar case, then pulled out his pipe. The second it was in his father's hands, Martin hurled it at the wall, just missing the boy's head by a mere inch. Drake flinched at the sound of shattering glass, and his breathing quickened.
Martin grabbed Drake's shirt collar, then forced him onto his knees. He put his lips next to the young man's ear. "PICK IT UP!"
Drake kept his head hung and somewhat cowered under the towering man. If it had been anything else, Drake would talk back and ignore and disobey all he could. But he knew that Martin would threaten to tell his mom about this, and Audrey could NOT find out that he was smoking weed in the house. So he carefully picked up the larger pieces of glass and held them in his cupped palm. After that, he stood up and threw the shards into the kitchen trash can.
"Get your shit and get your ass in the car." Martin shoved him into the front entrance again. "Piece of shit. Made me miss the first inning."
Mindy opened the front door and visibly cringed. "Took you long enough. Looks like you're only two and a half hours late."
"That's the difference between us. I actually have better things to do with my life," Drake retorted.
"Better than studying for the exam you have to retake in order to graduate high school? Gee, tell me all about them."
"I can't believe Ms. Hayfer paired me up with YOU."
"Likewise."
Drake didn't know exactly what that word meant, but he knew it was an insult. "Look, I have band practice in two hours, so we need to be done in one."
"Don't you wanna give youself time to at least learn something? I mean, can YOU actually absorb anything in an hour?"
"Are you gonna let me in or what?"
Mindy opened the door, closed it behind him, then led him into the dining room, where she already had a text book, paper, pencils, and a calculator waiting. She pulled out her chair, then took a seat. "Josh said they were going to your aunt's lakehouse for two months. It must suck that you have to miss out on that. He said he almost missed out on it, too, because your dad completely forgot about you yesterday. I would've thought that any dad who didn't have complete custody of his son would jump at the chance of getting to spend time with him. Wouldn't you?"
Drake hated that Mindy and Josh were together becase Josh told her everything, giving her A LOT of insult power over Drake that she shouldn't have. "Or maybe he was just late because the batteries in his alarm clock died and he overslept."
"You couldn't even think of an insult to add to that. The better one won."
"Or maybe I'm just being mature and trying to study. Am I wasting my time here?"
"Yes, you're wasting your time whether you study or not because it's not like you'll actually learn anything."
And the next forty minutes went on similarly to this, with Mindy making snarky remarks about how long it took Drake to come up with an answer, which was wrong most of the time. Drake cut his time short and grabbed his backpack. Mindy followed him to the door, taunting him about how she was right and how she'd known that he'd give up before his full time was up. Drake almost dared to think that he would've rather spent that time at home with his father, but it felt good to get out of the house and stretch his legs. As he walked down the street, instead of going towards his bandmate's house, he found himself heading towards his favorite drug dealer: Walmart. That's where he got his favorite drug: a cold, cough, and congestion medicine for high blood pressure that's sometimes referred to as Triple C's. His absolute favorite weakness. After that disastrous almost hour, he needed a mood-booster.