Morning. Bright lights. I groaned and looked at the florescent lights on my Sony Dream Machine. Funny how the annoying beep of the alarm stops my dreams.

"Get up, Luke. We're going to the shop."

I went into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes.

Keith laughed when he saw me, "You look like hell, kid."

I got out the skillet and opened the fridge. "What should we have for breakfast?"

"Let's have cereal. Take a break for the day."

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"I imagine you have one hell of a hangover."

"That I do." I told him.

"And now you have no desire to ever, ever drink again?"

"Yeah, that's about right." I said.

"Good. Luke, we need to talk about all this drinking you've been doing lately."

"Great," I said sarcastically.

"Watch it, Lucas." He pointed a threatening finger at me.

"Sorry." I muttered.

"Listen. I've never talked to anyone about this, so," he took a deep breath, "here goes.

"My father was an alcoholic. He was, how did you put it, 'a condescending bastard' most of the time, but when he drank, he was a violent bastard.

"I think the only time Dan and I ever got along, was when we were hiding from Dad. He wore rings on his fingers," Keith indicated his index finger on his right hand, and his middle and ring finger on his left. "The patterns of the rings were usually imprinted in one or more of our bodies by the time he passed out."

"Keith, you don't have to tell me this."

"I want you to know, Lucas, what alcohol does to people. I gave it up when you were born, and I don't want to see you become an alcoholic before you can legally drink."

"I won't, Keith."

"Listen, Luke. I got it. I'm an alcoholic. Been sober for 16 years now."

I didn't know what to say.

"Dan's never had a drink in his life. He had more control than I ever did. But he could still have passed it to you."

"I'm not an alcoholic, Keith."

"You know, Lucas, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that is true. Where did you get the alcohol?"

"Why?"

"Just answer the question, Lucas."

"At a bar." As soon as the words escaped my lips, I realized I had just condemned myself.

"What?!"

"No, no, Nathan. I was at Nathan's house."

"You were where?!

"Nathan's house."

"You were not at Nathan's house last night. You were at a bar. Nathan would have beer. He would not have shots. He's 16."

I didn't say anything. Busted.

"Give me your wallet." He held out his hand.

"Why?"

"Just give me your wallet."

"No."

"Lucas! Do not say no to me."

"I just did. You're not getting my wallet until you tell me why you want it."

"Fine. Just give me your ID then."

"I don't have one."

"You got into a bar. You have a fake ID. Give it to me."

"No."

He ran to my room. I ran after him. My wallet was sitting on my night table. Dammit. He got to it before I did. I tried to grab it from him.

"Lucas, stop!"

"No, it's my wallet. You have no right to go through it."

He ignored me and opened the wallet. He found Harry's ID behind my real driver's license.

"Sorry, Harry. You are not going to anymore bars."

"What's this?" He asked, finding something else behind my license.

He pulled out a condom. He held the evidence between his index and middle finger and looked at me for an explanation.

"I had one of those?!" I said, not meaning to say it out loud.

"You needed one of these?"

"I- um, I-"

"Luke, sit down." He said calmly. He patted the bed next to where he was sitting.

I sat.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"With Brooke?"

He nodded.

I nodded, too.

"I didn't though. Last night, when you said no sex, I did not have sex with her."

"Because you thought you didn't have a condom."

"Right." I looked down.

"You're not going to tell Mom, are you?"

"I have no idea how she would react to news like this."

"I don't either," I confessed.

"Do me a favor then." He said. I nodded. "Either tell her when you she gets back. Or pretend that you started sleeping with her after she got back."

"Deal."

"Do you have more of these?"

I shook my head.

He sighed. "I'll get you some more if you promise to talk to her about getting on birth control pills or the patch or something. These things are not 100% reliable."

"Yeah, I know, Keith."

For some reason, my mind took me back to last year when Keith taught me how to shave. Mom apparently had noticed my peach fuzz turn not so peach and enlisted the help of my faithful uncle. He came over every other morning for like two weeks until he was really sure I got the hang of it and wasn't going to cut myself in the process.

I really did love Keith. Before I knew Dan was my father, I used to pretend that Keith was my dad. When Keith and Mom would come watch my little league games, I used to look up and them and imagine they were my parents and that after the game we would all go to the same house.

As embarrassing as the whole situation was, I was glad Keith was there with me. He put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

"I don't like you growing up, Luke."

"So are you keeping my ID?"

"Yes, Luke! You know how much trouble you can get in if you get caught with a fake ID?"

I didn't answer. I actually did not know how much trouble I could get into. It didn't really think about it. I decided that I didn't want to know.

"You smell like bar," he said pointed at my shirt that I never changed from the night before.

I pulled the shirt off, not thinking twice, and stood up to throw it in my hamper. I wadded up the shirt and threw it in the hamper, making it in the first try. I turned to Keith to congratulate myself, but he was staring at my shoulder with wide eyes. Oh shit. I just busted myself again. I might as well tell him about that time that I stole a candy bar in the 3rd grade.

"What is that?" He pointed at my tattoo. "Wipe it off, Lucas."

I said nothing. "Tell me it wipes off, please."

"It's a tattoo, Keith."

"When did you get it?"

"Two weeks ago. The first time I came home drunk."

"You've been hiding this from me for two weeks?" Keith was pissed again.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"You've been lying to me, Lucas!"

"No, I just, neglected to tell you the entire truth."

"That's the same as lying."

"Well, I figured you would do exactly this." I said. "It's done, Keith, can we just forget about it?"

"Any more secrets you've been keeping from me? Have you joined the navy? Started dealing drugs?"

"No, you're overreacting. I just got a tattoo."

"You got a tattoo. There's no just."

"I don't want to talk about this now."

"Too bad, we're going to. Why the hell did you lie to me?"

"I guess I thought you would overreact. Hmm...wonder why I would have thought that?" I said rudely.

"Lucas, drop the attitude. You are in enough trouble as it is."

"Why am I in trouble? Are you going to punish me for something that happened two weeks ago?"

"Look, I'm not going to talk to you when you're angry."

"You're the one who's angry! I'm ready to just forget about it!" I was shouting now.

"Lucas, you are not going to yell at me, okay?" He lowered his voice.

"It appears that I already am yelling at you! What are you going to do about it?!" For some reason, I kept yelling. My head was pounding and I didn't want to calm down. I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to cause deep pain to something, whether it is the wall or Uncle Keith who just happened to be the other person in the room.

"I'm going to the shop. You come when you've calmed down."

"I'm not going to the shop!" I kept shouting, "I'm going to go have sex with my girlfriend, is that a problem with you?"

"You're just digging yourself deeper and deeper into the hole of being grounded, Lucas. I highly suggest you stop."

I stood up and started pacing. My face felt hot. Keith stood up with me and grabbed my upper arms, forcing me to look at him. "Lucas. Sit. Go for a run. Take a bath. Calm down. When you are ready, meet me at the shop. You're girlfriend isn't going to want to have sex with you at 7 in the morning anyway. Her parents will be pissed that you woke them up."

And with that he left.