Sorry, Charlie

by CHOOSELIFE

Third story in the Charlie series. This story picks up two and a half years after Drake's last overdose. Ricardo has forced him to clean up his act, but still Drake can't seem to get away from his past. Everyday is a fight to stay clean and now that he doesn't have his favorite red pills, his depression and anxiety are just as hard to kick as his drug addiction.

16. Dad's Trailer

PREVIOUSLY ON SORRY, CHARLIE:

The crew goes out to a nightclub for Dee's birthday. Dee is the last to arrive because he has to pick up a friend, who turns out to be none other than Josh. After a rough discussion between the two step-brothers, Drake eventually decides to rekindle things with his mother, who lives at Martin Parker's old trailer with Megan, Kenzly and Drake's three-year-old daughter Charlie. Mindy left not long after Charlie's birth when she started using meth again.

In the last chapter, everyone had different feelings about Drake's return, so they are all trying to navigate things and figure out how to move forwards while Drake warms up to the idea of being a parent and having his family back in his life.

---

Drive boy, dog boy
Dirty numb angel boy
In the doorway boy
She was a lipstick boy
She was a beautiful boy
And tears—

"Hey." Drake wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

Rhinestone's voice came over the line. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing. What's up with you?"

His friend jumped right into it. "Well, I wanna drink, but I'm waiting for Zach's mom to get up. She asked me to take her to the store earlier and I said I would, but now she's taking a nap. Like, okay, lemme tell you how this happened. I'm off work today after working six days in a row and she asked me to take her to the store later. I said I would. Now she's asleep and it's five o'clock and I wanna drink, but I can't do that because then I won't be able to drive her to the store."

Drake started moving again, but at a walk this time. "Shit."

"Did I interrupt something? Dude, are you masturbating?"

"Um, no."

"Hmm." It was that high-pitched sound Rhinestone always made when someone said something he wasn't so sure he believed.

"Why?"

"You sound out of breath."

"Because I've been running, asshole."

He would've driven, but he'd woken up this morning to find one of Julio's tires flat. He must've ran over a nail or something on his way back from the play last night. He was nervous to tell Julio because he should've been more vigilant. Once he told him what had happened, he quickly swore he'd pay for the replacement and that he'd be more careful, but his friend wasn't upset. Ricardo had to go into work earlier, but he said he'd get a new tire with Drake's money (the boy had insisted) and fix it afterwards.

"Oh. Why?" Rhinestone asked.

"I don't know. I went out for a walk, but then I decided to run."

"Oh. Well, speaking of masturbating, though, I am so bad at sex," he said.

"What?" It was so random and it caught Drake off-guard.

"Like, because it's just been so long since me and Zach have fooled around, so we had sex the other day and I lasted four seconds."

The young man chuckled and Rhinestone was laughing in his high-pitched laugh, too.

"It's just been so long. He was going at it and I looked at the clock. Literally four seconds went by."

"That's okay, though. It happens."

"Well, then he wanted me to let him finish, but once you're out of the mood, it starts hurting, so I couldn't do it. I suck so bad." He kept going. "Sex just isn't that fun. I mean, he doesn't make it fun. Like, when he gets in the mood, he's always like, 'Oh, damn, lemme get that dick. I wanna bend you over and fuck you. I want some dick.'" He used an annoying, low-pitched voice when he impersonated his boyfriend. "That shit just doesn't get me in the mood. I want him to play with my hair and cuddle me and give me a massage. I need to be relaxed, but he just starts talking like that." He recited some more blunt dirty talk. "He's just not good at foreplay."

"Have you told him that? Like, have you told him what you wanted?"

"I tried once, but he got offended and pissed off. Oh. Hold on. He's on the other line. Hold on."

Normally, Drake would hang up after about two or three minutes of waiting and expect Rhinestone to call him back later, but he really didn't have much going on right now, so he waited as he walked. Eleven minutes later, he heard Rhinestone's voice again.

"Damn, you're still here?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you would've hung up."

"Nah."

Being the narcissist that he was, he was already back on the topic that involved his favorite subject: himself. "I mean, if his mom doesn't wake up soon, I'm not gonna be able to take her. I don't like driving at night. I have to work early tomorrow. I have to be there at three-thirty in the morning. If I were to sleep right now, I'd have about seven hours to sleep — less than that actually because I have to wake up about two hours earlier."

Drake knew that he wasn't waking up two hours before he had to be at work, but he didn't call him out. Rhinestone was always one to exaggerate.

"It just kinda puts a damper on my day because I can't drink like I used to. If I drink at night, I'll get a hangover the next morning. I like to drink during the day. That way, I'll be good for work the next day. If she doesn't hurry up, I'm not gonna get to drink at all." He didn't give his friend time to respond. "I'm gonna go check on her and see if she's still sleeping. Hold on." The line went quiet as Rhinestone crept around the house. Moments later, he said, "She's snoring."

"Walk past her and fake sneeze really loud." He wasn't too invested in the dilemma because he knew the young man had been drinking a lot since he started back and he didn't really support that.

"You know what? I could just take three shots. That way, I can get a buzz, but if she did happen to wake up, I would be okay to drive."

"Don't do that."

"I've done it before. I did it last time I took her to the store. She came back and told Zach that I drove really well. She always reports back to him now after I had that wreck last month."

Drake remembered. While most people's first reactions involved concern for Rhinestone's well-being, his boyfriend had been pissed about the car. Drake didn't like Zach much, although he had never met him. He was kind of like Clementine in a way, just not as severe. Things could get super nasty and violent between the couple, but it usually never got past shoving or, in extreme cases, a slap to the cheek. It didn't happen as often as it had with Clem. However, Zach was just as suspicious of his significant other as she had been with Drake. He tracked Rhinestone's phone and got notifications when he received messages and who knows what else?

Dahlia did that, too. He could remember one time when they had been hanging out at his house. She went to the bathroom and, while she was there, he received a message from some random girl on his Facebook. He knew that Clem would freak, so he deleted it without responding. Once his girlfriend came back from the bathroom, she went off. She questioned him about the message because she knew he had deleted it. Apparently, she hadn't had time to read it before it was gone, so she was immediately suspicious. In the blink of an eye, she went from screaming at the top of her lungs to hitting him while he cowered against his dresser. Within seconds, she started breaking and throwing a bunch of his shit. There was nothing he could do to tame her wrath. Only when Ricardo stepped in did she stop injuring her boyfriend. The homeowner kicked her out, but before she left, she ended things with Drake. Of course, they were back together the next day and he was doing everything he could to get back in her good graces.

God, why did he still miss her so much?

"Ugh, Zach just texted me. Okay, lemme tell you what happened today," Rhinestone said. "So I was out of cigarettes. I told him I was gonna get more and I told him exactly which gas station I was going to to get them. I get in the car, get my cigarettes, then go back home. The second I walk through the door, he asks me which gas station I went to. I told him I went to the one right up the road — the one I told him I was going to. He's like, 'Why didn't you go to this one?' I told him, 'Because the one I went to is closer.' It's only a block away. The one he's talking about it two blocks away and there are two red lights on the way. The one I went to had no red lights. I explained that to him and he got mad. He said there was a lot more traffic the way I went and that it was safer to go to the other gas station. Again, I explained that it would've taken more time with the red lights and that it was further away, so we argued about that for a minute, then he was like, 'You're always trying to argue with me. I don't understand why you can't just comply.'" He spat that word out with disbelief.

"Comply?" Drake had his own problems with controlling partners, so he understood why the word choice was so frustrating and even disgusting.

"And I told him which gas station I was going to before I left and he didn't seem to have a problem with it then, but once I get back, he's jumping down my throat asking why I can't comply to this demand he never even gave me. I'm just tired of being... I don't know."

Drake made it to the abandoned park right outside his dad's old neighborhood — now his mom's neighborhood. He took a seat on one of the neglected swings and gently rocked back and forth on his heels. His intended destination had been the gas station across the street. He wanted to see Ahmed and ask him how he liked the show last night and hang out for a bit since he hadn't been able to talk for long the last time he was here. He'd have to wait until he got off the phone for that.

Rhinestone went on talking about his day at work, a show he was watching, posts he had seen on Facebook, etcetera. About thirty minutes later, he started discussing his boyfriend's sleeping mom again. "I'm gonna go check again." After a minute of silence, he said, "She's not snoring anymore."

"Maybe she's waking up."

"It's almost six o'clock. I'm not leaving this house after seven. I have work tomorrow and I don't like driving at night." Another half hour passed when Rhinestone suddenly interrupted Drake's summary of how last night's performance had gone. "She's up!"

"She is? Is she still going?"

"I don't know. I'm gonna give her a minute and see what she does."

"I still don't think she's going."

"Well, she better tell me soon." He went on talking for another fifteen minutes — leaving Drake's story unfinished — before heading downstairs to check on her again. "She's still in her pajamas."

"She definitely doesn't wanna go anymore."

"Hold on. I'm gonna ask her."

Suddenly, Drake heard Rhinstone's voice get nicer and higher-pitched. It was a habit he had when talking to the elderly, but it sounded more like he was talking to a dog or child. He enunciated his words because Zach's mother spoke Spanish and some broken English. Drake couldn't hear the mom's voice, but he heard his friend talking.

"Are you still going to the store? The store? Mariana's? The store? No money? Oh... Well... What do you need? Take this back? Return? You need to return this at Mariana's? Okay. Okay. Just let me know when you're ready, okay? Alright." Seconds later, he spoke to Drake again. "Okay, so she's still going to the store. Damn. I guess I won't be able to drink. She said she didn't have money and I asked what she needed. I mean, I only have eighty dollars, but I would've bought it if she needed something, but she just wanted to return something apparently."

Drake still doubted that the mom was wanting to go to the store this late. It really sounded like they just did a bunch of nodding and smiling. She didn't know a lot of English, so he didn't think she knew what Rhinestone was saying when he said 'return.' He didn't really care too much and this thought only passed through his mind for a second before it was gone.

The conversation between the boys went on some more until Rhinestone got antsy again. Moments later, he said, "Oh my God. Guess what she's doing."

"I don't know. Napping again?"

"She's cooking chicken."

Drake laughed. "Bruh, she's not going."

"She said she was. It's almost seven. She better hurry up is all I'm saying."

As the two continued to talk, Rhinestone gave him occasional updates on what she was doing. She cooked the chicken, then she finished and ate it. When 7:30 came around, she was still in her pajamas. While still on the phone with Drake, he texted his boyfriend and told him what had happened. Zach messaged his mom so that he could translate.

"Oh my God. So she's not going to the store."

Drake laughed.

"I could've been drinking this whole time." It was obvious that he had started already, though. He wasn't slurring too much, but sometimes, he got really repetitive and he talked a lot about random shit (more than he normally did). During a lengthy rant, he said, "Everyone talks about wanting peace, but that's bullshit. No one actually wants world peace; they want peace of mind," he was saying. When he didn't get a response, he said, "You don't agree? That's okay. What do you think?"

Actually, what Rhinestone had said did make sense, but Drake still wanted to believe that there was good in the world somewhere. "I mean, I don't know. I think that's true to an extent, but like, I would actually want peace, but then I guess it's really just about what your own definition of peace would be. I just don't give a shit as long as no one is hurting each other."

Rhinestone began talking about how he always thought about having his own world and he asked Drake if he would live in it.

"I don't know. It depends."

He went on to explain how everyone would earn the same amount of money no matter what job they did and he said that each household could have luxuries if he felt like they should. Drake asked about a pool and Rhinestone said either everyone would have a pool or no one would and there would be community pools. If everyone had their own, they'd be in-ground and probably only about six feet deep. He also said that there was a two-children limit per family, but if both children are of the same gender, then the couple can go for a third. If they don't get what they want after that, that's too bad. He spent a good ten minutes explaining everything and again asked if the boy would live in his world.

"Probably not."

"What?! Why?"

"I don't know. A six-foot pool is kinda bullshit and I don't wanna have to share with other people every time I wanna go swimming. Plus, if everyone has their own in-ground pool, kids' death rates are gonna go up."

"Oh. Damn. If all the kids are dying, I guess they're gonna kick me out of my own world, huh?"

"For sure."

"Hold on. Zach texted me." His voice was faint and cracked in and out because he had already pulled his mouth away from the phone. When he came back, he said, "Oh my God. I asked him how work was and this is what he sent back. He said 'That's great. Loving my dairy. Had to finish it and throw it.' I never understand what the fuck he's saying when he texts."

This made Drake laugh. "What the fuck?"

"I know. He's almost as bad as you."

"Fuck you. Are you serious? I still remember your Facebook rants you always did when you were high on Xanax." This was back during the summer they had met. "Literally nothing you said made sense."

"I miss those days when I was still living with my aunt."

"Remember when I sent you that Drugs, Girls, Money & Liquor song by Spose and you tried to send it to your friend and accidentally posted it on Facebook and your aunt confronted you about it?"

"I remember that. I didn't even post the song or anything. I just posted those words and that's it." He chuckled at himself.

Drake and Rhinestone often started talking about the past because, with the exception of the time they stopped being friends, they had a lot of fun in those days. Drake missed him an awful lot and he always had to catch himself before he got sappy. Maybe it wasn't just Rhinestone that he missed. Maybe it was that time period in general — before he murdered his dad, before Meelah died, before his family turned against him, before his addiction spiraled so far out of control. He wished he could freeze that time of his life and live there forever. He wished he could live his life with Charlie again — Charlie the drug. He missed him most of all.

Rhinestone's thoughts were getting somber as well and his mind was going down a similar road. He started talking about how he felt stuck being with Zach and how his boyfriend had downloaded the gay hook-up app Grindr. "This has been going on for years now. He says he'll delete it and maybe he does, but then I always catch him on it again. He always said he only had it to make sure I wasn't on there. A lot of gay guys use that app to cheat. They just don't post their picture until they start talking to someone. When they trust them enough, they send their picture. He thinks I'm on there and haven't posted a picture, so he's trying to find me. Anyway, that was his excuse last time."

Drake remembered being told this.

"The way I caught him this time was that I heard the alert go off that he got a message. I got a little curious, you know. I wanted to catch him, so then I downloaded the app last night and tried to find him. I figure he wouldn't have a picture, so I searched through those that were nearby and couldn't find him. I deleted the app, but then we got into an argument this morning, so I downloaded it again earlier today and this guy messaged me. I was like, 'What's up?' He's like, 'Nothing much. Just smoking and stroking.'" He laughed a little at these words. "I asked what he was smoking. 'T?' He said he was. I ended up deleting the app after that."

The more Rhinestone spoke, the more his words slurred and the more Drake realized that he wasn't just drinking. This kind of thing happened on occasion. Rhinestone was usually open about everything, but there were certain things he bottled up until he exploded in a self-destructive mess. This was the actual reason for his call, but it took him forever to gain the courage to finally come out with it. He also probably wouldn't have been able to do it without chemical help.

"Did you take something?"

"I wasn't gonna get the app again. I knew I shouldn't have."

"What did you take?"

"Anyway, but when I was on there, I figured out that you can pay thirty-five dollars a month to keep your account incognito."

"Shit. For real?"

"I looked for Zach and couldn't find him, but I know he's on there, which means he's paying thirty-five dollars a month to keep his account private. This means that no one can find your profile; he has to message someone first before they can even see him, so whoever messaged him yesterday — Zach had to have messaged him first."

Drake always knew that Zach was cheating since he was told about the first incident involving the Grindr app. Honestly, he was sure Rhinestone knew it, too, and just didn't want to leave him. He could understand that. "What did you take?"

"Huh?"

"Did you take your Ambien?"

He sighed like he was in trouble, but he tried to act like it wasn't a big deal. "I mean, yeah."

"How many did you take?"

"A few."

"How many's a few?"

"Like, eight." He continued with his story. "Like, and Zach's always doing this shit. Like, I cheated on him once and that was years ago. He cheated on me, too, so we should've been even. I'm just tired of the way he treats me. Our relationship is so one-sided. Like, all I want is for him to do one thing with me. I just want him to try it once, or he doesn't even have to try it. I just don't want him to stop me from doing it."

Drake knew that he was referring to meth. This is what talking to Rhinestone was like. He just suddenly started talking about wanting to do meth with his boyfriend, but he never came out and actually said it. Everything was a puzzle with him, but Drake knew him well enough to put the pieces together quickly so that he could follow along.

"It would just be so great. Like, I can keep it under control. Just do it on the weekends. He keeps complaining about how we hardly have sex, but like, if he just lets me do this, I'll be into that kinda sex he wants. That 'Lemme get that dick; I want that fucking dick' kinda talk. It'll just be this fun thing we can do. He can just try it once, or just let me do it and see how he likes the sex and, if he doesn't, then okay. I won't do it anymore. I just want him to try it."

"Rhinestone...I mean...that's not how addiction works and you know it. You can't just make it a weekend thing."

"Yes, I could."

Drake knew this was a lie. Rhinestone couldn't go a day without drinking or taking edibles and he was fucked up on his Ambien right now, so he called the boy out. "That's bullshit."

"I can fucking handle it. I — hold on. Lemme call you back. I have to called Sadie." Sadie was Zach's cousin.

"Okay." Drake sighed.

Rhinestone hung up without saying anything more. Drake sat there for a moment thinking about how their talk had taken a sudden turn. They were on the phone for about three hours. The sky was dark and it was close to eight o'clock. He was surprised that Ricardo hadn't called to check up on him, but then he remembered that the man was at work.

He pushed himself out of the swing and his stiff muscles popped. He moved towards the curb, then crossed the street, reeking of cigarettes. Finally, he entered Ahmed's gas station like intended.

"Drake," the Muslim greeted with cheer. "I thought I saw you outside, but when I finished up with my customer, you were gone."

"Yeah, my friend called, so I sat in the park. We haven't seen each other in years. He lives kinda far, so he always has a lot to talk about when he calls. I meant to come in sooner." He spent so much time on the phone that he just now realized how thirsty and hungry he was. He went over to the coolers and grabbed a Red Bull, then he got a slim jim, salt and vinegar chips and a pack of Reese's. He took them to the counter and set them down. "Can I get cigarettes, too, please?"

Ahmed knew which kind he smoked and grabbed a pack of L&M menthols. "Just one today?"

"Yes, sir." He pulled out his wallet, then looked at the screen for his total. He picked out the twenty that Ricky had given him and passed it over. When he was given his change, he stuck it in his wallet. "Could I get a receipt, too, please?" He hated asking because he felt like maybe Ahmed thought he didn't trust him or something. "Sorry. I'm doing this accountability thing and my friend always checks my purchases now to make sure I'm not buying anything I shouldn't." He'd never actually talked about his drug abuse with Ahmed, but he would be naive to think the attendant didn't know.

"No worries." Ahmed printed it out. "That's really good that you're doing that. He sounds like a good friend."

"He is. The best." Drake folded the receipt up and stuck it behind the money, then closed his wallet and slid it back inside of his pocket.

"I loved your show by the way."

"Did you?" This made the boy smile.

"Yes, it was wonderful. I almost cried."

"You're not the only one. I cried almost every time I went in to rehearse. It's my favorite musical." He popped the tab on his energy drink and gulped some down.

"You did so well," he complimented. "My favorite part was when you started that song and the homeless people walked around on the stage. It touched my heart."

"That's my favorite part, too," Drake said. "I love that song."

"I brought my wife with me. We had a little date night. She loved the show and she was glad to finally be able to put a face to your name."

"You've mentioned me?" He was both touched and frightened at the same time.

"Yes, many good things."

"Does she know about...?" He wondered if she knew that he had held her husband at gunpoint and demanded he hand over all his hard earned cash.

"She does, but she is a forgiving person. She respects anyone I respect."

"Wow. Thank you. That's so nice of you...after everything I did." He felt incredibly guilty about that night, but at the same time, he was glad they dropped him off here because no one else would've offered him the mercy that Ahmed had.

The man saw a range of emotions play out on Drake's face until he rested on one that looked like sadness. "I hope it was okay that I invited her?"

"No, no. It's fine," he said and offered a smile. "I just... You're so nice. I was just some messed up kid coming in all the time buying cigarettes and you didn't owe me anything, but you fed me and looked out for me and showed me kindness. You did more for me than...than my own dad did. You've made a huge difference in my life and so I just wanted you to know that."

Ahmed wore a warm smile. "I'm very glad of that."

"I hope I teach my daughter the same things you've taught me."

"Your daughter?"

"Yeah, I... I've kinda been a piece of shit for the past three years. My mom's been taking care of her. I'd never even met her until last week. I finally spoke to my mom again for the first time in years and we've been working on things. I broke a lot when I left."

Ahmed knew their relationship had some issues. He could still remember the day Drake had hopped over his counter and crouched behind it after seeing Audrey approaching the door. "That's good. Your mother is such a lovely woman. She's always so kind. I'm glad you two are mending things."

"Me, too." Drake took out his phone, then went to his camera roll and pulled up a selfie of himself and Charlie sitting in the backyard. In it, she was grinning wide and laughing with her hands curled in front of her mouth while her father made a silly face.

"Ah, yes, Charlie. I've seen her many times with your mother. She's so precious."

Drake pulled the phone back and looked at the photo himself. Ahmed saw the smile on his face and noticed that his eyes were filled with adoration.

"I can't believe I never put it together before. She is a spitting image of you."

"But a thousand times cuter."

"Having a child is such a delight. I'm so happy for you. You have to spend all the time you can with them because times flies by fast and, the next thing you know, they're eighteen and leaving home."

Drake hadn't thought about that before, but Ahmed was right. One day, Charlie wasn't going to jump into his arms with excitement anymore. One day, she'll be too big to hold. Eventually, she'll get to that age where friends come before family and drugs and alcohol and sex are introduced. Was he really capable of handling that? He felt like a kid himself sometimes.

---

When Drake stepped through the front door, he could immediately smell pizza. He went into the kitchen, where he saw Julio looking inside the oven, then closing the door and impatiently glancing at the clock.

"Geez, you were gone forever," Julio said without turning around. He knew he was there because Drake reeked of cigarettes and sweat.

"I know. Rhinestone called on my way there and talked on the phone for three hours."

"Three?! About what?!"

"I don't know." He sat down on a bar stool. "Are you sharing?"

"You really have the audacity to ask me that when you were the one who was supposed to cook dinner tonight? It's past midnight and I still haven't eaten." He turned to his friend and could tell that he felt down — probably because he was starving but too exhausted to fend for himself. "Of course I'm sharing," Julio said. "I even left the olives off of half for you."

This brightened Drake's spirits. He watched as Julio opened the oven door again to check on his pizza. After a moment, the young man pulled out the pan and set it on top of the counter protectors on the island. He grabbed two plates and two drinks and sat down next to his friend.

"Thanks," Drake said, accepting his plate. His legs were like jelly and he appreciated that Julio was getting everything for him. He waited until the boy sliced the pizza, then he grabbed two extra cheesy pieces and put them on his plate.

"Dude, you need a shower."

"Shut up." He took a bite, then his mouth hung open and he fanned himself. "Ah, tha's hawt."

"Did you not just see me pull it out of the oven, stupid?"

Drake struggled with the chunk for several more seconds before finally getting it down his throat. He drank the water to soothe the heat, then drank more because he just remembered that he was dying of thirst after his walk. Despite his previous experience with impatience, he took another bite because he was worn out and ready for bed.

The two sat in comfortable silence. Drake was too tired to speak and Julio didn't have anything to talk about. The noiseless kitchen bothered neither. Both were just content with one another's presence.

---

Drake groaned when he heard his alarm go off. He'd snoozed it twice already, so he knew he needed to get up this time. He reached his arms towards the nightstand and picked up his phone, then turned off the blaring sound. It still took him a moment to get up, but he finally pushed himself out of bed and maneuvered towards the door while his cats circled his feet. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth, then he went back to his room and changed into some comfortable clothes. After this, he headed downstairs, where he found Julio.

"What up?" the young man asked with a mouthful of cereal.

Drake didn't answer. He got a bowl and spoon, then he retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and sat down to join his friend. He picked up the box of Honey Smacks and poured some into his bowl.

"Geez, you look tired."

"I am."

"You couldn't sleep?"

"Rhinestone kept me up."

"He called again?"

"Yeah, two more times."

"What the fuck for?"

"He's struggling."

"Oh. Shit."

The second Drake had headed upstairs last night, his friend had called and told him what he had spent their short time apart doing. Before hanging up with him at the park, Rhinestone had told him that he was going to call his boyfriend's cousin Sadie. Drake didn't believe him, but he let him go. Apparently, Rhinestone didn't remember telling him this lie (which wasn't a surprise after all the Ambien and alcohol he'd ingested) and went on to tell his friend the real story. He'd called a coworker who he suspected used meth and told her to answer him honestly. He asked her if she did meth and despite the fact that he was her manager and had the ability to fire her, she said she did. He asked if he could get some from her dealer and she said yes. He told her that he couldn't have the dealer coming to his house and that he couldn't go to some random house because his boyfriend Zach tracks his location with his phone. He made a plan to go to work, give his coworker the money, have her score, then bring it back to McDonald's. That way, he could tell Zach that he got called in to fix some issue with some machine and would only be there for a short while. Rhinestone then told Drake that he got in the car despite being both drunk and high and he headed to work in the middle of the night. It was dark out and he claimed that all the car lights and building lights blinded him, so he missed his turn and had to go back. He said he did this three times because he kept missing his turn. His significant other called and asked what the fuck he was doing because he was literally watching his phone, tracking his driving to make sure he was being honest about going to McDonald's. Rhinestone said he was having trouble seeing because of all the lights despite having made this trip in the dark plenty of times before. After this, he decided to go back home. That's when he called Drake.

Drake didn't have much to say. His relationship with Rhinestone was hard to explain. A few summers ago, they had gotten pretty close pretty fast. Besides Meelah and Ricardo, Rhinestone was the only other person who knew about the physical abuse he endured while staying with his dad and he actually understood because he'd gone through something similar with a couple of his mother's boyfriends when he was younger. There was a unique love that Drake felt for Rhinestone, which had probably been caused by his need to be understood and accepted. These feelings got muddled when the boy had told everyone at that one party about Drake's relationship with Coach Tad. They stopped being friends for a while, but reconnected when Martin locked his son in the closet solely because Rhinestone was the only one he could call to let him out without there being any consequences. They drifted apart again after that and, at some point, Rhinestone had moved to Las Vegas. Years passed before Drake stopped being bitter about the betrayal. One day, he gathered the nerve to reach out on Facebook and tell him he missed him and, gradually, they became good friends again. He loved Rhinestone dearly and it was still a different love than what he felt for anyone else. It wasn't greater than or less than; just different. However, he'd never quite allowed himself to get too emotionally involved in the friendship after it was mended, so when the young man confessed that he was considering relapsing and had been for some time, Drake didn't know what to say.

Obviously, this news saddened Drake, but he wouldn't allow himself to feel like he had to put his life on hold for him. He mainly just listened, but Rhinestone kept asking questions. He wanted his fellow addict to tell him that it was okay to use. He wanted him to agree that he could control it and that he was right about meth fixing his horrible sex life. Drake couldn't do it. When he did speak, it was quiet and serious. He didn't try to persuade him not to use so much as he attempted to remind him about why he had quit in the first place.

"I don't really care if I have to go back to sucking dicks to get meth. I really don't."

Drake didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. He'd been there before and he couldn't think of anything anyone could've said to him that would've made him stop doing what he'd been doing either.

"I mean, what am I supposed to do?" Rhinestone was getting progressively upset.

"I just... I don't know what to say. We're so far apart."

Drake remembered a time when his friend lived here and was clean. He'd asked him and Mindy to pick him up from work, but right before they had gotten there, Rhinestone had ran into one of his old friends and told the two that he didn't need the ride anymore. His fellow addict knew it was a meth friend and he looked at the boy, who looked back at Drake and he knew that Drake knew. He told Rhinestone to get in the car. He said it with such authority and he didn't really give his friend a choice because he knew the craving young man would regret it later. Rhinestone went back inside without a word, but Drake told Mindy to wait. She had no idea what was going on and she got impatient quickly because she wanted to get back home so they could do Triple C's, but he kept telling her to wait because he knew Rhinestone would come back and he did. He got in the car and that was it.

Drake said, "I'm not there to make you do anything now. You have to do it yourself."

"Why should I? Why should I when all I feel is trapped?"

"I think you should get a pen and paper and write a list of all the reasons you decided to quit in the first place and a list of everything you could lose if you use again."

"Why should I care what I would lose when meth is the only thing that's ever made me feel alive?"

He said it with venom and Drake knew what he was feeling. Not a day goes by without him thinking about Charlie (the pills) and debating whether or not it was worth it to destroy everything he had built for himself just for a little taste.

"Tell me." Rhinestone continued aggressively. He knew his friend couldn't answer this question. "Who cares if I throw everything away when all I feel is depressed and suicidal anyway? At least with meth, things will feel okay again."

Rhinestone went on repeating something similar, pushing Drake to either give him the answer to cure his addiction or give him his blessing to use again. Drake couldn't do either, so he stayed silent while the craving young man attacked him. He let him do it because he knew it was nothing personal. It was the addiction making him say these things and he's been in the same position before, spewing words of hatred and blame towards the people who cared about him most. Addiction was awful and he loathed that Rhinestone was going through the struggles right now — he really did — but he couldn't let himself get emotionally wrapped up in another man's drug abuse when he had to keep his own in check. It was every man for himself, so whether or not his friend relapsed, he would feel nothing but a faint sadness. As Rhinestone continued going off on him, Drake thought about all of the other people he had treated like this: his mom, Ricardo, Julio, Walter... These were people who actually had been emotionally invested in his choices — who lay awake at night fearing for his life. Every time they tried to help, he went on the offense, pointing fingers, name-calling, guilt-tripping — anything he could think of to push the people who loved him away. This is what Rhinestone was doing to him, but because he himself had done it plenty of times before, he could easily spot the behavior.

Drake still didn't have anything helpful to say after his tearful rant, but he couldn't just leave him without a response and make him feel like he wasn't listening or didn't care. "I know you're gonna do whatever you wanna do. I know you want me to tell you it's okay, but I can't. I won't."

He knew that, despite what Rhinestone was saying, he didn't want to use again. Otherwise, he would've called his other best friend Lily, who would've given a weak attempt at talking him out of it before giving him the okay. Lily was to Rhinestone what Meelah was to Drake or what Drake was to Mindy. She was the older, wiser, drug gateway. She was still using and she always told Rhinestone all about it and he assured both her and Drake that he was okay with listening to her talk about it all the time, but Drake knew that that wasn't true. She was a crackhead turned alcoholic who had recently tried both heroin and meth for the first time before going to rehab. She stayed clean for about a week or so before she started drinking again. She would've given Rhinestone the reply that he so desperately wanted to hear, but instead, he had called Drake to vent and lash out.

"I know you're gonna do whatever you wanna do," Drake repeated. "I just don't think you should use."

Rhinestone lashed out some more before going quiet. Clearly disappointed with the outcome of the phone call, he told Drake he needed to shower to rid himself of the stench of alcohol before Zach got home. Drake let him go, then he took a shower himself and laid down for bed. Once more, Rhinestone called him and told him about his boyfriend coming in from work. He said he wasn't suspicious about his failed trip to work and there were no arguments. Drake honestly had no idea what to say, but somehow, the phone call got close to the hour mark before Rhinestone let him go. Finally, Drake was able to go to sleep.

"I don't really know what to do in that position," Drake said. "That's a lot of pressure when someone wants to relapse and ruin their whole life and your choice of words is the only thing that stands in the way of that. People have been that person for me plenty of times. I should have the shit memorized, but I could hardly say anything. Nothing felt right."

"What do you mean?" Julio asked. "You stopped me from drinking just four days ago. You've helped me get through cravings many times. You know the right words because they're not some memorized cure. They're from your heart. You know what I need to hear, but you also know what's right and you don't compromise that. When words don't work, you take action."

"I can't really do anything when Rhinestone lives so far away, though. The only two real friends he has live entire states away and no one is there to physically hold him back when he wants to fuck up like you and Ricky have done for me."

"That's not your problem. You talk to him over the phone. You listen to him for hours. You do your part. He hasn't found himself local help, whether that's his boyfriend or a friend or an NA sponsor. That's not your fault. That's something only he can do."

"His boyfriend's kinda shit, though, and keeps him locked up in a way, like Clem did to me."

Julio was quick to reply. "And he lets him do it. You've really done all you can do. He's gotta do the rest on his own. Having someone who listens is great, but you also need someone who is willing to kidnap you when you're too stubborn to listen. You should know that."

This made Drake smile a little. "Yeah."

"If he really wants to stay clean, he needs someone local who he can talk with face-to-face — someone who will drag him to Walmart at balls a.m. for leg waxing strips or who'll take him to a trampoline park meant for fucking five-year-olds. Conversation is great, but physical distractions are a life-saver. That can't be you and you shouldn't feel responsible for that. Despite all the help me and my brother gave you, you still made most of the hard choices yourself. Every addict has to. Rhinestone's either gonna have to tell that guy to step the fuck up and be a supportive boyfriend or fuck off so he can find someone who will. You can't control another person's relationships," he said. "Trust me. I've tried." He smiled and Drake realized that he was referring to his romance with Dahlia.

"You're right."

He thought back to the time several months ago when he had overheard Julio talking to his big brother about his lack of understanding about why Drake was willing to sacrifice so much for a short-lived sense of okayness. Now that he struggled with his own addiction, he seemed like an expert on the subject and Drake found his advice to be extremely helpful.

"Of course I'm right," the young man said. "I'm always right."

Drake rolled his eyes as he finished up his cereal. "You gonna be at Mrs. Hayfer's for dinner tonight?"

It was Monday, but Saturday was the closing night for Rent and he was given Sunday off because of how late he would be out Saturday night. Bad weather was coming in tomorrow, so he was spending today doing his lawn work and hopefully things would be tame enough for him to still be able to hang out with Charlie tomorrow, even if they have to stay on the back porch so that the roof protects them from the rain.

"Yeah. I'll be over around five."

---

That evening when Julio showed up for dinner, he found himself sitting across from Mr. Hayfer at the dinner table. The two boys had forgotten that it was Monday and Garrett doesn't work on Mondays. Julio and Garrett's only prior interactions had been when he had helped to save Drake's life, when he had stayed in the hospital waiting room with them for hours, and when he had claimed to be the boys' father so that the two Santos brothers could visit their comatose friend. The young man wasn't too bothered by the unexpected new addition to their biweekly dinner routine. However, he could feel the awkwardness both Mr. Hayfer and Drake felt. Their experiences together involved the younger whipping out his penis to pleasure himself followed by a sudden violent outburst that included getting smacked around and publicly humiliated.

Drake kept his head low for most of the dinner, but he did speak to both and make eye contact a few times as not to be rude. He later told Julio that Garrett had pulled him aside before dinner and apologized for the way he had treated him that night at the truck stop. He expressed remorse for both his behavior and his unfaithfulness to his wife, talked about how Drake reminded him of his dead son and told him how glad he was that the young man had pulled through and made a full recovery from the suicide attempt. He told Drake that he was glad he and his wife had found him and that Drake had really made a difference in Alice's life. Soon after befriending her former student, her love and passion for teaching had been reignited and she felt sure of herself again. After Daniel's death, she had lost a lot of hope and purpose and she was beginning to get that back because of Drake. Garrett suggested that he and Drake start over and forget about what had happened at the truck stop. He assured the former prostitute and addict that there was no judgement from his end and expressed hope that these feelings would be reciprocated, which Drake agreed to. He then caught the young man off guard by telling him that he was proud of him and that he was so happy that he had come into his and his wife's lives. It was all so weird, but Drake could tell that he was being genuine. Still, that didn't stop the boy from recalling the masturbation show he'd put on in the back of Garrett's tractor. Maybe one day he could move past it. He wanted to, but it would definitely take time.

---

Drake lifted his eyes to the sky as he heard thunder rumbling louder than his stomach had when he lived on the streets. The clouds were a dark, dark gray and there was a brownish-yellow tint to the sky that made him feel like he was viewing the world through sunglasses. The rain was starting to pour more aggressively and Kenzly had to raise her voice just so that he could hear her over the noise.

"It's looking pretty bad," she said.

"I know. Shit."

"Oooh! Daddy!"

He closed his eyes and sighed, then reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. "Omg, I'm gonna kms. Fml."

Kenzly chuckled and watched her ex give his daughter a dollar bill. Charlie pulled open the screen door excitedly and ran inside to show Megan and Audrey what she had been given.

"I'm getting rained on," the young lady said as the drops fell at an angle so that the roof no longer offered complete protection. "I'm going in. You wanna come inside?"

"Nah, I'm good." He had a hood over his head and was leaning back casually in his chair as if he was unbothered. Maybe he was (he'd spent months on the street and probably got rained on quite often) or maybe he was just trying to pretend he was so that he wouldn't be pushed to enter that house.

Kenzly stopped just inside the door. "I feel bad leaving you out here by yourself."

Drake pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit up. "Don't. I'm fine."

She felt someone squeezing behind her and turned her head to see Audrey leaning out the door.

"Drake Parker, you better not be out here saying bad words," his mom scolded facetiously.

"I wasn't," he denied like he was thirteen again.

"In the last twenty minutes alone, I've watched Charlie run inside and put a dollar in her swear jar three times."

"Charlie's a fucking tattletale. I'm making a tattle jar starting now." He looked over and saw him mom giving him The Eye. "Seriously? She's not even out here."

"You know the rules. We already went over this."

He rolled his eyes and opened his wallet again. "Damn," he said to himself. Despite the storm, he was still heard.

"I'm old, honey, but I'm not deaf."

Kenzly laughed. "You know how they say snitches get stitches? It's more like snitches get riches."

Drake just looked up at her with disgust.

"Oh, come on. That was funny."

"Not really." He held up a bill to Audrey. "Do you have change for a five?"

"Not really." His mom took the money before he could take it back and the women shared a laugh at his expense.

"This covers me for my next three slip-ups," Drake said.

"Yeah, so you're covered for the next ten minutes, if that long," his friend said.

"Shut up."

"There's one."

How could he forget that this one was on the list? He wanted to say that the list was stupid, but he caught himself before doing so. Stupid was considered a bad word, which he guessed he understood because he wouldn't want Charlie to call anyone stupid. Still, having to filter himself wasn't something he was used to. "Weren't you going inside?" he asked Kenzly.

"Don't get pouty," his mother said. "It's going to a good cause. Charlie's saving up for a pink tricycle. She's like Megan. She's really good at saving her money. She saw it at the store three months ago and hasn't spent a dime out of her jar since."

Years ago, Audrey wouldn't have needed to save for so long just to get her granddaughter a bike. Now she was living paycheck-to-paycheck and still struggling to make ends meet. The refrigerator was almost as empty as it had been back when Drake lived here with his dad. Bills were piling up and she was in a lot of debt after all the hospital and doctor and physical therapy visits. Drake had known at a young age what it was like to be both financially stable and poor. He remembered getting a lot of the things he'd asked for — and even getting surprised with things he hadn't — when he was at his mom's, but at his father's, he never got anything except punches and kicks and slaps and whoopings. He didn't want Charlie to know what that was like. He didn't want her to be the only one in a group of friends that had hand-me-down clothes and toys. He didn't want any of her peers to tease her for something that was Drake's fault and not her own.

This decided it. Tomorrow he was going to job search. No more fucking around. He owed it to Charlie. He owed it to his mom and Megan. He owed it to Ricardo. It was time to step up.

"Drake, why don't you come in, sweetie?" Audrey said.

Kenzly blocked Charlie from going back outside. This made the girl scream and she started crying. "Nap time!" she said cheerfully as she picked the child up.

Charlie cried harder and tried to wiggle from her grip. She yelled for Drake, who stood and met her at the door. He gave her a kiss and promised to be here when she woke up, then she was carried off to bed. As he watched her go, he felt a bit of guilt because he wasn't laying her down for a nap himself.

"Come on, sweetie," Audrey pleaded.

He wanted to. He really wanted to, but he couldn't. He sat back down in his chair and his mom gave up and went back inside. He took another drag from his cigarette and noticed that it was spotted and discolored due to the raindrops that landed on it. He only got through half before it was too damaged to continue smoking. Drake's anxiety increased greatly. He loved watching it rain, but he was terrified of tornadoes. It was a fear he'd had since he was little. When he was seven, his grandparents (on his mom's side) were in a tornado. It carried them across their neighborhood and dropped them both in a ditch. Both miraculously survived, but had several broken bones. They were lucky.

When he thought about it, he was kind of like a tornado in a way. People in his path would get swept up and dragged around and caught up in his chaos until he just spat them out and left them wounded and worn out...or dead. He was working on changing that, but sometimes it felt like he could never change.

Over the span of the next minute, the rain quickly died down until it was gone completely. Drake lit another cigarette, then tried to take his mind off of the severe weather by considering places to put in an application. He didn't want to go back to the bar, nor did he want to return to the fast-food restaurant he'd worked at before turning twenty-one. In fact, he was hoping to avoid fast-food altogether. However, he didn't exactly have the experience or expertise to be choosy. He was willing to work anywhere that would hire him.

"Mom..." he heard Megan say in the distance. Now that the rain was gone, there was an eerie quiet and he could hear the sound of the television in the living room, though he couldn't make out the words. He knew it was the weather because his mom religiously kept the weather channel on during times like these.

Just then, hail started to fall from the sky. It was gradual at first, then it was like the bottom fell out. Drake's nerves grew. He was jumpy and he flinched when he heard his shrill phone alert blaring at full volume, warning him about a nearby tornado. He also heard another cell phone inside the house with the same alert, then the Emergency Broadcast System rang over the tv, interrupting the weather report. The city's tornado sirens started going off as well.

The screen door opened again. "Drake, come inside," his mother said.

"I'll be okay right here," he said. He knew that it was stupid, but if he had to choose between his father and a tornado, he would choose the tornado every time. That's how scared he was of his dad, who had been deceased for close to four years now.

"They said there's a tornado coming down highway ninety-four. They zoomed in and we're right in its path. Now get inside. I'm not asking."

"It can't be that close because I don't hear anything. When I hear it, I'll come inside, okay? I promise."

She came outside then and she grabbed his ear. "Get up."

This is what she used to do when he was younger and got mouthy or misbehaved. If she told him to go to his room and he refused, she would take him by the ear and lead him there. It was something she'd learned from a past teacher, who used to guide her to the principal's office like this, back when that kind of thing was tolerated in schools.

"Ow. Okay." He stood and unwillingly followed her lead like he was a kid.

Once inside, she let go, then shut and locked the door behind her to keep the damaging winds from forcing it open. "Come on. We're going down to the basement."

Drake's voice expressed fear. "I'll be okay up here. If it comes, I'll get in the bathtub."

Because of what had happened to her parents many years ago, she was no-nonsense when it came to tornadoes, so she wouldn't grant her son's request. She tried to get him to move, but he wouldn't take another step further into the house that he'd almost taken his last breath in. Again, Ms. Nichols clutched his ear and led him down the hallway his father used to chase him down, into the kitchen where many violent beatings had started right as he walked through the front door, and towards the basement, where he was isolated and often tortured. Despite the changed carpet, the different smell and the rearranged furniture, it was still the same house that had held so many secrets and, no matter what anyone did as an attempt to disguise it, it would always be the same house.

"Let go," Drake said, pulling away.

"Come on."

"I can't." He stared at the open door, then met his mom's eyes. His voice expressed his desperation. "Mom, please. I can't," he begged. "I can't."

They could hear it then. It was like a freight train roaring in the distance. It was close. Megan came from the living room with Charlie in her arms. As she passed, she saw her older brother on the verge of tears, so she turned back towards the two to see what was up.

"What's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"Go on and take Charlie downstairs," her mom said. "We'll be there in a minute."

She only hesitated for a short moment because the loud sounds outside scared her. She hurried down the steps and disappeared from sight.

"Drake, look at me. He's gone. Okay? Your father's gone." Audrey saw his fingers trembling and tried to reach out and give him a hug, but he stepped back and held his hand out in front of him.

"Don't!" He immediately felt bad for his outburst. "Please, just... Just don't."

"We're all gonna be down there with you, okay? Nothing's gonna happen to you down there. I promise."

Because Drake had been on drugs most of the time after his dad's death, she had never seen him react like this before. If this was how it had affected him years later with no drugs, no wonder he'd had to stay high right after it had happened. No one really made it easy for him to talk about anything. These are the emotions that he'd been numbing back then. Here they were now, unleashing themselves at the worst possible time.

"I don't wanna be touched," came his broken, quivering voice.

Audrey's heart broke as a tear streamed down his cheek. She felt guilt punch her in the stomach and she was filled with hatred towards her ex husband for what he had done to their precious son. "Look at me. No one's gonna touch you. I promise. Just come downstairs with me, okay?"

Finally, he gave in. She let him go first so she could close the door behind them. After a couple steps, he froze as if regretting his decision. Without touching him, she convinced him to keep going and he did.

The basement had been turned into a bedroom now, although it was still very clearly a basement. There was a bed and a clothes rack and a mirror off to one side now, though. This was Kenzly's room. The girl was currently yanking the mattress off of her bed and dragging it across the floor. Audrey pointed back towards the staircase and Drake headed that way. Megan was already sitting underneath with Charlie in her lap.

"Are you okay?" she asked her brother.

"Daddy?"

Ms. Nichols shook her head silently to let her daughter know to keep Charlie away for now, so Megan got her distracted with a game of Pat-A-Cake. Drake sat against the wall and his mother sat next to him. She noticed that he was hyperventilating now. Kenzly looked on with concern as she approach with the mattress, her breathing heavy due to exerting so much energy.

"I'm gonna throw up," Drake warned.

His ex quickly grabbed a bucket that was sitting on the bottom of a shelf. It was one of the buckets he used to go to the bathroom in when he was locked down here for multiple days. It was a bad, degrading memory from his past. The second it was in his hands, vomit spewed from his lips. Megan and Charlie's heads turned towards him.

"Daddy, you sick?"

Another round came up. Audrey watched helplessly. He was so scared of Martin that, in a matter of seconds, he had made himself physically sick from fear.

"Here, you can use this to clean up." Kenzly gave him one of her t-shirts. She'd poured some of the water from the cup on her nightstand onto the cloth so that he could use it as a rag.

He accepted it and wiped off his nose and mouth. He was coated in a layer of sweat and his face was flushed. His hands trembled and he couldn't help that he was crying. He'd told himself that he'd never let his daughter see him cry, but he couldn't stop it. When he was here — in this house — he had no control over anything, himself included. His nerves were shot just by being here and the life-threatening natural catastrophe outside wasn't helping. Multiple times he caught his mind sending him into a flashback. He did his best to fight them off, but his mind grew weaker as time passed.

"Talk to me," he said.

Audrey did and the sound of her voice gave him some comfort. She kept assuring him that everything would be okay and that his dad wasn't here and that no one would touch him and that no one could hurt him anymore. "You're safe here. Okay? Do you hear me?"

He nodded his head, then flinched when he heard the sound of glass shattering upstairs. That's a sound he had heard here plenty of times before, like when Martin would throw half-empty beer bottles and miss his head by mere inches or when he'd shove his son against the counter, causing dishes to fall and break. The man would sometimes follow up by grabbing Drake by the throat and forcing him against the wall or the refrigerator. He would usually get right in his face and start yelling then and Drake's knees would buckle underneath him despite how hard he tried to project himself as tough. Mr. Parker could make him do anything when he got him like this because the boy could only last about a minute — give or take — with no oxygen. He might pull Drake's head away from the wall a couple times, only to shove it against it harder and harder and harder. When he was really enraged, there were a few times when he had lifted his terrified son off the ground completely. When Drake would dangle there with every last bit of his weight held up by his neck, he would swear he was going to die.

One time it had happened was when he was fifteen and he got in trouble for ditching school to go to a girl's house to lose his virginity (because he didn't count the time that fucker at the mental hospital had made him do it with a fellow patient). The girl's dad came home from work unexpected because he had forgotten some important papers and he caught them together in her bed. Drake's father was called and Martin picked him up, yelling just as ferociously as the girl's dad — not because he cared, but because his day had been interrupted by some man cussing and raging at him. Mr. Parker went home and beat the shit out of his son, then started strangling him like this until Drake pissed himself. This was before the teen knew what Triple C's were. It was before he ever had the balls to back-talk or be disrespectful. After that, he never spoke to that girl again. This was all frivolous anyway. After getting in bed with that girl from school and fooling around for a while, he started to realize that he couldn't have sex with her. Despite the pressure he felt and his own desire to lose his virginity, he couldn't get that traumatic event from the mental hospital out of his mind. He felt like he was being watched and recorded and he kept thinking about the time he had learned that the girl he had been forced to sleep with in the hospital killed herself.

"You think you're ready to have sex?! You think you're a man?! HUH?!" His outburst made the boy flinch, but his question went unanswered. Martin pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, pulled up his camera, then took a picture of Drake, who flinched again when he came closer to show him the photo he had just taken. "Does this look like a man to you?!"

In the picture, tears were running down his face and snot dripped from both nostrils. Urine stained his pant leg and his face expressed pure terror. After a quick glance, he turned his head away from it and closed his eyes, but Martin roughly grabbed a fistful of his hair and made him look.

"HUH?! DOES IT?!"

"No, sir," Drake whispered pitifully, his voice cracking after having been strangled.

He shoved the's boy's head away, then squatted down in front of him. "You're not a man, Drake. You're a stupid fucking kid. Do you hear me? A mutt. Do you think anyone actually wants to have sex with you? Who would ever wanna be with an ugly retard like you, huh? I'm fucking talking to you!"

His son shrugged.

"FUCKING ANSWER ME! Tell me who could possibly like a dumb fuck like you!"

"No one," he said quietly.

"That's right. You're unlovable. I hate you. Megan hates you. Your mother never even wanted you, but she's too nice to tell you. The only reason you're alive is because her mother wouldn't let her get an abortion."

Drake's bottom lip quivered. He closed his eyes, but his tears still poured out like waterfalls.

"Look at me." It was much quieter, but still just as terrifying, so the boy obeyed him, but his eyes were so watery that everything was blurred. "You're pathetic. How would you feel if the other kids at school saw you like this?"

Drake tried to swallow down the lump in his throat before he spoke. He opened his mouth and choked out the word, "Ashamed."

"Ashamed," Martin repeated with a nod. "See, when I have dads and teachers and the principal calling me all the time, that's how I feel. I'm ashamed of you. I'm ashamed to be your father."

His words were like knives and the teen's face contorted at the emotional pain. When he blinked, he had five tears fall all at once.

"Get out of my sight, boy."

Drake pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the pain he felt in his side. He started to walk past his dad, but froze when he felt the man's hand on his chest.

"Nuh-uh. Downstairs." He pointed at the basement door and Drake turned his eyes in that direction. "Go on."

His feet were glued to the floor and he just stared at the door. He hated it down there. He never knew how long he would be locked down there and there was no sense of time anyway. It was just Drake, alone, hating himself for hours on end, each insult from his dad a bullet loaded into the gun that was his own brain.

"Drake..."

He still couldn't move. Despite knowing that his father would beat him some more and then just throw him down there himself, he was frozen with fear. Nothing good awaited him in that basement — only horror and pain and sadness.

"Drake!"

He flinched.

"Do you hear me?"

Suddenly, the back of his shirt collar was grabbed from behind and he was dragged unwillingly towards the door. He screamed as loud as he could, hoping someone would save him.

Next thing he knew, he was drenched in water. He opened his eyes and found himself in the basement. He couldn't remember how he had gotten here so quickly when he was just in the kitchen with his father a second ago, but here he was, only Ricardo was here, too.

"Sorry," the man said, setting the now-empty cup down next to him. "Can you hear me?"

Drake was still screeching and growling through clenched teeth. He was visibly confused and scared.

"You're okay. You're safe. You're just having a panic attack, but we're gonna get you through it, okay?"

Drake was still screaming and it took all of five minutes before he completely stopped. Ricardo spoke calmly, making his friend believe him when he said that everything was alright. He was given ice because this technique has been proven in the past to help immensely. He squeezed it tight in one hand, then moved it to the other when it started to hurt.

After another ten minutes, he was finally able to speak through his tears. "Where am I?" Usually, the awful hallucination of the basement would've slipped away by now — a few pieces at least — and reveal to him his true location.

Ricardo hesitated. "You're here," he admitted, but he added more. "You're with me, so you just focus on me, okay?"

It started to come back to him now. "There was a tornado," he said with a shaky voice.

"It's over now. It missed. Everyone's okay. You're okay."

"Where's Charlie?"

"She's upstairs with Kenzly. She's safe."

"I scared her."

"Hey, let's not focus on that. Let's get better so we can show her we're okay."

Audrey was the only other person in the basement because Ricardo had requested that Drake be given as much space as possible. When her son had told her that he couldn't enter the basement, she never thought that this would happen. She knew that it wouldn't be easy for him and that maybe he would cry because he'd been close to doing so when he stepped through the door the first day he came back into her life. However, it was way worse than she could've possibly imagined. It started with the shaking, then crying, then vomiting, then growling, and then he was full-on screaming. At some point, she had realized that he was too far gone for her to reach, so she'd taken Megan's suggestion and called the man who had taken care of him for the last three and a half years. Ricardo had been at work, but he said he'd come right over and he got here in less than ten minutes. By that time, Drake was harming himself. He yanked at his hair and clawed at his own skin. This was one of the scariest things Audrey had ever witnessed and she felt completely powerless. She hated her ex husband for what he had done to their son. She hated herself for being so oblivious to it. She and Walter had always demonized the drugs without bothering to get to the root cause of the problem. No wonder they'd lost him to his addiction. These were the emotions the pills had been masking.

She knew the Santos brothers had saved Drake's life by taking him in, but it wasn't until now that she was fully understanding just what they had saved him from. She couldn't imagine what Drake had been like when he'd first gotten clean if this was him three and a half years later. She would never be able to give the two boys the thanks that they deserved for all the work they had put into her son's sobriety. They could've left him out there on his own, but they didn't. She wished she could've been that strong for him — that he'd never been too scared or ashamed to come to her. It was too late to go back now. All she could do was be more open and supportive to earn Drake's trust back and, maybe one day, he'll let her in.

Although Drake had calmed down for the most part, he continued weeping. He remained where he was — possibly for fear of moving or possibly because the anxiety attack had worn him out. It wasn't until Audrey stepped forwards that the boy even noticed her presence. When their eyes met, a fresh tear streamed down his cheek and he was clearly embarrassed and speechless.

Finally, he settled with, "I'm sorry, Mom." His voice cracked and he started crying some more.

"No, no, don't be sorry." She moved closer and squatted down in front of him. She started to go in for a hug—

"Please, don't."

—and she pulled back.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be," she said. "It's okay."

Ricardo stood. "I'm gonna get you some water." He headed upstairs to give the two some time.

There was silence for a moment, then Audrey broke it. "I called Ricardo," she said for lack of anything better to say. There were plenty of other things that popped into her head, but she wasn't sure if this was an appropriate time for those. She wanted to know how often this happened, what the last thing he remembered was, where he had gone and what he had seen. He still seemed to be in a fragile state, though, and she didn't want to make things worse, so she told him about calling Ricardo just to keep them from sitting in silence. That was always the problem with their relationship. Not anymore, but if she wanted him to open up to her, she had to let him know that it was safe to do so. "I didn't know what to do. I tried to calm you down, but then you started hurting yourself..."

He could see the tears in her eyes and he felt terrible that this had happened in front of her. "Did I...? Sometimes when..." He avoided eye contact and instead stared at the scratches on his arm and the blood under his nails. He could feel the cuts on his neck and arms burning. This was usually where he always wounded himself. It was as if he were clawing desperately to peel his father's hands away from him. After all this time, he was still stuck in his invisible grasp. "Sometimes I...lash out or..."

"No, baby, you didn't hurt anyone." She wanted so badly to wipe away his snot and tears, but she respected his wishes and kept her hands to herself.

Drake squeezed his knees closer to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself tighter to make himself smaller. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"You don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed around me," she assured. "Not anymore. I still love you no matter what happened to you — no matter what you did. I always will. Don't you forget that."

He didn't say anything in response, but she felt him put his hand in hers. She squeezed it tight and offered him a warm smile and, with that smile, she told him that everything would be alright. Despite his earlier request, she soon found him wrapped up in her arms. His head nudged its way underneath her neck and she held him in her grasp. He kept his knees against his chest as he leaned into her, his sobbing picking up once more. Audrey kissed his hair and rubbed his back.

"It's okay. It's okay, honey," she soothed. "Let it out. It's okay."

---

Drake's eyes shot open and he gasped for air. He was so tired of always waking up like this. His eyes immediately darted around the room and, despite the different furniture and decor, he knew where he was. He was in his old bedroom — the one he used to share with Megan. It was just Megan's now and technically it had always just belonged to her, but he'd slept here on the weekdays during those many months when no one had known his whereabouts. Despite the purple comforter and the Miley Cyrus poster on the wall and the closet full of girl clothes, it felt just like his room. It felt like...home.

But home scared the shit out of him. Home is where a raging drunk would burst through the door and snatch him out of bed by his hair. Home is where he was told daily that he never meant shit and that he would never mean shit. Home is where he felt most fearful...but also where he felt like he belonged.

When Drake felt something touch his back, he flinched so hard that he almost jumped out of bed.

"Daddy?" came a soft, tired voice.

The young man turned over and saw his daughter laying next to him. Her eyes were red and swollen with tiredness and she'd probably cried herself to sleep after his meltdown.

"You laying down?"

"Yeah, baby," he whispered.

"You sick?" she asked, her eyes unable to remain open.

"I'm okay."

"You sad?"

He didn't answer right away this time. He was caught between wanting to be honest and knowing that he shouldn't. His heart melted when he felt her move closer and wrap her little arms around his neck to snuggle him. He was so touched that he almost started crying again. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head like his mother had done for him earlier, then he ran his fingers through her hair to comfort her. "Go back to sleep."

He continued to pet her hair and, within minutes, she fell asleep. Not long after, he was out, too.

---

The sound of Charlie's laughter led Audrey to her daughter's bedroom. Inside, Drake was changing the child's pee diaper in between tickling her and playing peek-a-boo. Ms. Nichols leaned against the door-frame, going unnoticed by the two occupants inside. She continued to watch them and felt so happy to have her son back. Drake leaned over and blew raspberries on the girl's tummy and her loud laughter filled the room. Just hearing it made Audrey smile.

After another minute of playing with her, Drake asked, "Are you hungry?" He picked up the pair of striped leggings and slipped them on over the diaper.

"Yes."

"Let's go make some lunch," he said, "and then we'll have a picnic on the back porch."

"A picnic?"

"It's where you eat outside."

"I wanna do a picnic."

Drake put the pack of wipes and butt cream back in the diaper bag, then he gathered up the dirty wipes and diaper to put in the trash. He made sure Charlie landed on her feet when she slid off the bed, then he turned. That's when he saw his mom in the doorway.

"You're a natural," she complimented and she saw the corners of his lips turn upwards in a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said. "Still kind of... It's weird being back here."

"It'll take time."

"Me and Daddy awe gonna have a picnic!" Charlie interrupted excitedly.

"Wow," the woman chuckled with enthusiasm. "That sounds like fun!"

The child ran past her, possibly to tell Megan or Kenzly.

"You go on and throw that away, then get you some fresh air," Ms. Nichols said. "I'll make you two some lunch.

Audrey headed to the kitchen while Drake trashed the diaper, then washed his hands. His daughter was occupied with helping her grandma choose the menu, so he snuck out back to squeeze in a quick smoke before Charlie joined him. He didn't want to smoke in front of her if he could help it. He lit up, then pulled out his cell phone to see if he had any messages. He did.

Ricardo Santos: text or call when u wake up

Drake Parker: im up

He couldn't really remember falling asleep or walking upstairs to bed. Sometimes panic attacks left him so fatigued that he would cry himself to sleep, which is probably what he had done. Someone must've guided him upstairs while he stumbled along blindly.

Ricardo Santos: how r u feeling?

Drake Parker: better still anxis but s not as much as b4

Ricardo Santos: that's good. well i jus wanted to check in. let me or my bro know if u need us

Drake Parker: thnx

When he finished his cigarette, he headed back inside to check on the two ladies and to maybe see if there was any alcohol in the fridge. It was weird to imagine there not being any when it had been just about the only thing that was in there years ago. He could really use it to take the edge off. Plus, he didn't get to drink often due to Julio's alcoholism and he really missed having the freedom to grab a beer anytime he wanted.

On his way to the kitchen, he passed by his father's bedroom. He froze in front of the door. It was Audrey's bedroom now, which was weird because she and Martin were totally different. He stood there for a moment before deciding to reach for the knob. He turned it slowly, then pushed open the door even slower as if he were ready to slam it shut the second he saw the drunkard coming after him.

His heart started pounding against his chest when he saw it. Everything was completely different — so different, in fact, that it looked like Audrey had made it a point to make sure it bore no resemblance to what it used to be. The headboard of the bed was now under the window instead of against the other wall, but the dresser was in its old place. At what was now the foot of the bed was the spot where his father had bled to death. He stared at it as if he were searching for some evidence of the tragedy that had occurred within these four walls. There was none.

"It's okay. It's not that bad."

"You worthless piece...shit."

"Stay with me, okay? Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. HEEEEELP! SOMEBODY HEEELP! What do I do?"

"..."

"Dad? ...Dad?"

As water built up in his eyes, he turned his head towards the area in front of the bathroom door. This is where he had been repeatedly stabbed.

"Why?"

"Why? WHY?!"

"Please."

"You are the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"I love you. I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. I love you, Dad. I'm sorry for ever being born. Do what you have to do."

A tear fell down his face as he turned away from that spot and again looked at the floor where his father had been brutally murdered. Another memory played out before him as if he were there, but watching from the sidelines. This time, he saw the moment right before he had almost been strangled to death.

"You don't have the balls to shoot me."

"Dad, please don't make me do this... Don't come any closer or I swear I'll shoot!... Last warning... Oh, shit! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me."

"You didn't turn the safety off, you stupid cunt."

"Ahhh!"

"You don't know how long I've waited for this... You've always been a sorry excuse for a son. I'll be glad to finally be rid of you."

Audrey watched her granddaughter skip towards the back door with a small picnic basket in her hand. She smiled, but it fell when the girl stopped. She looked on with curiosity.

"Daddy?" Charlie turned and went into Ms. Nichols' room.

Drake was in her room — or more correctly, he was in his father's old room. He was in the room where the worst day of his life had taken place. She knew he'd get curious one day and sneak a peek inside, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon. This was his first day inside and he'd just suffered from a violent panic attack only hours ago and Audrey wasn't sure she could calm him down on her own if it happened again.

"What's wong?" came the child's distant voice.

"Nothing, baby. Can I have a hug?" Audrey heard him pick her up. Moments later, she heard him say, "I love you."

"I wuv you," Charlie said back for the first time.

Moments later, Drake's melancholic demeanor changed into enthusiasm. "Is this our picnic basket?"

"Yes!"

"Did you help Nana make lunch?"

"Yes."

"What did you make?"

"It's a soopwize."

Audrey then saw him leave the room with Charlie in his arms still. He didn't noticed his mother as he closed the bedroom door behind him and headed out back.

---

"Hey, dude," Drake greeted when he saw Julio on the couch.

He removed his shoes, then headed over there. Julio was leaned back against the arm and his feet were on the cushions. His knees were bent to support his laptop, which suddenly went silent.

"S'up?" Drake pushed his feet back so that he could sit down and check in with him. This was something that had become a habit for him since he stayed gone a lot and he knew they worried. Plus, he wanted to see how Julio was doing. "What was that?"

"Listening to this single from Em's new album."

"I didn't know he had a new album. Play it."

The boy was hesitant. "It's not really..."

"It's bad?" Drake asked as if he couldn't believe Eminem was capable of making a shit song.

"No, it's not bad. It's just..."

"Did I interrupt you watching porn?" Maybe he hadn't heard about the rapper's new album because it didn't exist. "Lemme fuck off—"

"No, asshole," Julio said. "I just don't think you should listen to the song — not while you're in a good mood." He could tell Drake was in a good mood by the look of contentment on his face; he always left Charlie this way.

"Oh," the young man said quieter. "He talks about...?"

"No, but it's something that I know would make you get upset and you just saw your daughter and you're in a good mood, so why ruin that?"

Drake hated having to have things filtered through the Santos brothers. It was like having parental lock on and that made him feel small because he was a twenty-two year old adult. Still, he always took their concerns into consideration. He had to. He once watched a show with Ricardo that ended up having a rape scene in the first episode, which led to Drake vomiting and then staying in bed for a week. Even worse, he once got upset when their cousin was over watching Tom and Jerry. The way the cat hated the mouse for no reason reminded him of himself and his father and he got stuck in his head and spiraled and had a major meltdown. He lost his shit over a cartoon. Not one of his finer days.

Drake asked, "Is it good?"

"It's kinda brilliant."

"Damn." After a moment, he said, "Well, maybe since you warned me, it won't be so bad, and if it is, you'll be here to keep me grounded."

"I mean, it's not gonna give you flashbacks or anything. It's just sad."

"What's it called?"

"Darkness."

He gave it some thought. "We'll listen to it and then we'll do something fun so I don't get stuck on it."

Julio knew that Drake would make his own choices and he never wanted to take that free will away from him, so he gave in. "It's better if you don't watch the video and you'll have to listen to it at least twice to get its full meaning." He restarted the song, then pressed play.

Julio watched his friend closely for any sudden changes in his mental state, especially as the third verse began. Drake was surprised, just like he had been during his first listen.

After it was over, Drake's response was, "Shit."

"You wanna replay it now that you know every line has a double meaning?"

"Yeah."

They went through it again and the boy seemed in awe at the skillful writing and the double entendres. This time, his eyes did water over and Julio could tell he was trying to hold it together. Drake had him stop it before the track was completely finished.

"You're right. That was fucking brilliant," Drake said.

"I think a lot of people are gonna be pissed off."

"They should be pissed off, but not at him. If they're pissed at him, they missed the point."

"You good?"

"Yeah. I can't really give myself time to think about it too much because you're right; I'll get upset."

"Time to do something fun then." Julio exited out of the site and closed his laptop, then sat up.

"I got you something."

"You got me something?" the young man said with confusion. He watched with furrowed brows as his friend hunched over his book bag and unzipped it.

The suspense was built when Drake's cats rushed over to greet him. He spoke to them and petted them for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small plastic bag.

Julio could see the word GameStop on it. "You got me a game?" He seemed touched and the spontaneity of it left him unsure of how to react. Guilt won over and that's the expression he wore on his face. He had just been given a fun day at Urban Air and now Drake bought him a video game despite how little he made.

"Yeah, I like to watch you play." He held the bag out further and his friend finally accepted it. "Ricky's staying at Dee's tonight, so I thought me and you could order take-out and stay up all night and finish it if you feel like it."

Julio pulled the case out of the bag and read the cover. "You got Life Is Strange 2?!" he said with excitement.

"I'm gonna change out of these clothes and go to the bathroom, and you can go ahead and put it in so it'll be downloading. I'll call the Chinese place when I get out." Suddenly, Drake felt his friend's arms around him.

"Thanks." Julio wasn't big on physical contact unless it looked like his friend needed a hug, which he didn't.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He pulled away and started tearing away the plastic on the case.

"Are you okay?" Drake asked again.

Being vulnerable and having his own addiction problem was new to Julio, so it wasn't like him to open up the first time he was asked. "I'm better now." It turned out that he needed the fun distraction just as much as his friend.

"Do you want me to take you to a meeting before we start playing?" he offered.

"No, I'm okay. I've just been in my feelings today, I guess."

Drake frowned, then he went in for another hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't here," he said. "I love you."

"I know. I love you, too."

"And I'm super proud of you. I know shit gets hard. Tomorrow, you'll be six weeks sober and you haven't had a single slip-up and that's something you should be proud of. It took years for me to make it that far, and even then, it wasn't by choice. You're putting the work in and you're handling your shit and I really admire that." He felt Julio squeeze tighter like he needed this hug and needed to hear those words.

"Thanks," came out muffled against Drake's shoulder.

After Julio pulled away, the boy asked, "Are you sure you don't wanna go to a meeting?"

"I'm sure. I think I just...started thinking about Hannah and how I fucked things up with her. I hung out with her one day after all that shit went down and I apologized and obviously it didn't fix everything, but I thought we were gonna try to work on it and be friends again. I messaged her the day after and she never responded, so I just left it at that because I don't wanna be annoying. Now it's been, like, a month and I haven't heard from her."

"I think it just takes time," Drake said, adopting Julio's sad tone. "It's like how I fucked everything up and now Josh doesn't want anything to do with me. Everyone keeps saying it'll take time and I don't really know if they're right, but that's all I can do."

"It just sucks."

"I know. Try messaging her again and see if she wants to do something, or maybe she's a little wary to hang out with you alone because of what happened. Invite her to come eat with us or go bowling or something and I'll bring Kenzly."

"But I'm broke."

"You know I got you," he said and before Julio could protest, he added, "and one day when you have money and I don't, you can get me back."

"I guess I could try that. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. With my incredibly flawless dating record, you should already know I have the best advice about women."

Julio chuckled and the sound of it made Drake smile. "I better order the Chinese because I know when you go upstairs, you're gonna be in the bathroom for half an hour."

"That's an exaggeration."

"No, it's not. You literally sit in there with the fucking lights off doing God knows what."

"Because that's where I go when I wanna calm down or be alone. No one ever knocks before coming into my room."

"That's why you lock the door, dumbass."

"I can't lock the door because then you guys will think I'm doing drugs and freak out, so when I want me-time, I go to the bathroom and turn off the light and look at memes or something. Pooping in the dark is very relaxing because you're alone and the only light comes from your phone, so all your attention is on one thing and the rest of the world melts away and I really don't have to explain myself to you."

"It's fucking weird."

"You just need to try it. I promise it will change your life."

"I think I'll pass," he said with judgement.

"Whatever. Just put the game in so it can be downloading." Drake stood and headed upstairs to get some comfy pajamas, then he went into the bathroom and left the light off.

---

Ricardo opened the door silently and tiptoed inside. He moved slowly and peered around the corner into the living room, where both Drake and Julio were passed out on opposite ends of the couch. After checking in last night after work, he knew they were going to be up most of the night playing video games and sleep in late, which gave him and his boyfriend the perfect opportunity to pay them back for the leg waxing prank. He turned and put his pointer finger over his lips, then motioned for Dee to come inside. Dee was carrying two paintball guns that Ricardo had grabbed out of the garage and Ricky had a bottle of the hottest hot sauce he had ever tasted that his partner had given him.

They'd planned in advance and they just hoped that the two boys were tired enough while they prepped. The oldest waved towards the kitchen and Dee headed that way. Ricardo entered the living room and opened the bottle in his hand. He started with Drake because if he woke up and ruined the whole thing, at least the mastermind behind the leg waxing prank would get his payback. However, he remained fast asleep, even when the homeowner poured some hot sauce on his lips. He then moved over to his brother and did the same before joining his boyfriend, who was putting all the beverages in a box. He also removed the ice cream, the tray of ice and anything else that he thought might cool the boys off. He then replaced the bottle of ketchup with one he brought from home, which they had already filled up with more hot sauce. While he packed the things up, Ricardo turned on the faucet to make sure the water was cut off. They had done this before entering the house. Drake and Julio were going to regret ever fucking with them.

"Where are your keys?" Dee took them when they were given to him, then headed outside to hide the box in the trunk.

While he did this, Ricardo started getting the mousetraps set. When his boyfriend came back, he helped him set them out in front of the couch where the two slept and in various other places that would be on their inevitable route to the kitchen. When they were finished, both picked up a paintball gun.

"Ready?" the oldest mouthed inaudibly and the other nodded. He counted down from three, then whispered, "Go!" Within nanoseconds, the living room was filled with yelling.

"Rise and shine!" Dee called.

"Good morning, sleepyheads!" Ricardo had voiced his concerns during the planning stages about the possibility of Drake waking up somewhere else, like at his father's, so they both agreed to make their presence known immediately just to be sure he wouldn't get confused.

Drake was the first one to taste the hot sauce and, respectively, the first one off the couch. Julio was right behind him, though, so his friend's cry of pain didn't occur in time for him to avoid the mousetraps snapping closed on his feet.

"Motherfucker!" he exclaimed. "You guys are fucking dead!"

Drake made it to the kitchen first. He snatched open the refrigerator, craving the soothing effect of milk. He found none. Moments of frantic searching went by, then he felt Julio shove him out of the way. "There's nothing to drink."

His friend then went over to the sink and turned it on, but nothing came out. "Yo, what the fuck?!"

"Here. Eat ketchup," Drake suggested, grabbing the bottle from the fridge.

"The fuck does that do?!"

"I don't know. I saw it on Scooby Doo." He managed to pour some onto his tongue before Julio greedily grabbed it out of his hand. Just as he went to put some on his own tongue, Drake smacked it out of his hand. "It's fucking hot sauce!"

Ricardo and Dee were both hunched over in fits of laughter.

"I can't breathe!" Dee panted with tears in his eyes.

"Where the fuck's the milk?!" Julio stomped across the kitchen at them, but they both ran off.

Drake made his way upstairs in hopes that the water still worked here. After trying both bathrooms, he found that it didn't. He headed back down to the kitchen, where the couple was still dying laughing and Julio was cursing up a storm. Drake moved over to the island and just stood there leaning forwards against it because he felt weak. The excruciating pain was taking all the energy out of him.

He struggled just to get out the words, "Where's the milk?"

No one heard him and he couldn't even get himself to speak up, so he let Julio do all the talking while he hung back and suffered in solitude. Neither one could think well enough to realize that they could just turn the water back on themselves, but even if they could, neither knew where or how to do it.

Fifteen minutes passed, but the burning only got worse with each minute. Julio was still arguing with his brother while ransacking the house for the hidden drinks. Drake remained where he had been standing. He looked completely out of it. Tears involuntarily dripped across his hot cheeks and no matter how much he sniffled, he continued to have snot drip from both nostrils. A string of saliva hung from his lips and he'd occasionally spit on the counter-top in hopes that it would make the burning go away. He kept his hands over his ears because they, too, hurt and the loud yelling and laughing wasn't helping anything.

Julio wasn't doing much better. His face was bright red and water left his eyes and he frequently wiped his nose and sniffled. He could still talk, though. In fact, he hadn't stopped bitching since this all started.

"Yo, you good?" Dee asked, standing next to Drake now. He had to ask again before the boy could even remember how to respond. "You good?"

He only shook his head shortly. Dee started to feel bad. He made eye contact with his boyfriend on the other side of the kitchen, then nodded his head toward the suffering young man.

"Dude, it's not fucking funny anymore," Julio was saying. "Stop being a prick."

"Alright, you wanna know where the drinks are? Fine. Under one condition."

"What?"

"You both have to put together a nice date night for me and Dee here at the house. You have to serve us and cater to our every need and you have to do everything we say with no arguments. If you fail to do that, there will be major hell to pay. Do we have a deal?"

Julio had been hiding his pain with rage, so no one expected him to cave so quickly. He was usually much more stubborn, but he begrudgingly agreed to the terms.

"Drake?"

Drake had gotten a double dosage of the hot sauce and he was pretty submissive in general anyway, so his answer didn't come as a shock. He gave a short shake of his head, but this time, it was a yes.

Dee went outside to retrieve the box of their missing items. When he returned, Julio was right on him. He reached in while the man was still walking towards the kitchen island and grabbed the milk. After a second glance, he also got the ice cream. He drank the milk straight out of the jug, then drank more and swished it around in his mouth. After that, he passed it to Drake and went to the silverware drawer to get two spoons.

---

"Fuck. I love this shirt," Julio said as he looked at the multiple paint splatters left by the paintball gun.

Drake looked over at the golden yellow shirt with a breast pocket, which Julio often wore for both a pajama shirt and a regular shirt. "It'll come out."

"But it's paint."

"Paintballs are different, though." He was taking the clothes out of the dryer and putting them in a basket. He'd needed to change out of his messed up clothes and had decided to do some of the laundry as he did so.

"How do you know?"

"You remember who my sister is, don't you?"

"You guys used to play?"

"No, she used to do shit like this to me all the time when we were younger." When he found a comfy tee to change into, he removed his shirt and dropped it in the dirty clothes hamper.

"Shit," Julio said, looking at the plethora of small bruises spread out on his friend's skin. "My brother really fucked you up." He was hit with about five or so while Drake got almost three times that amount.

"Dee probably went easy on you because he knows you're a pussy when it comes to pain. Ow! I was kidding!"

Julio took the shirt his friend handed him and put it on. He then noticed Drake pick out a pair of jeans and underwear. "Where are you going?"

"My mom's. You wanna come?"

"No, dude. I'm going back to sleep."

"Alright. Well, if you get bored later, I can swing back by and pick you up."

Julio soon disappeared upstairs. Drake folded up the dry clothes and separated them. He left Julio's in the basket in the laundry room because he was probably already asleep. He put his away in his room, then delivered Ricky's to him. His door was already open.

"Thanks," the man said as he took the stack from him.

Dee was sitting on the bed. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah. That was the worst." Drake said, "I can still taste it. It's just tolerable now."

Ricardo smirked. "Dee and I are brainstorming some pretty good ideas for our date."

"I thought me and Julio had to plan it." He didn't really mind them doing it actually. That's less work for him.

"Yeah, but we get to pick your outfits."

"Outfits?"

"Dee came up with dresses."

Drake was silent for a second, then he sighed because he knew there was no point in arguing. "Julio's gonna be pissed."

Ricky chuckled giddily. "I know."

"Don't tell him," Dee said.

"I'm not telling him shit," said Drake. He didn't want to be the one to give that kind of news to his easily-enraged friend. "When is this date supposed to be?"

"Sometime next week," answered the oldest. "It'll have to be a day we're both off work. Gives you two some time to put some thought into it and make it nice." He moved over to the closet and started hanging his shirts. "I'm sure my brother will leave you with all the work anyway."

"Of course."

"Don't worry. We'll keep that in mind when we do our planning."

Suddenly, they could hear Julio's loud snoring from across the hall.

"He went back to sleep?"

"Yeah," Drake said. "I'm gonna go to my mom's for a while."

"Okay."

"Could I maybe..." He always felt embarrassed when he had to ask if he was allowed to have his own cash. "...take some money? In case I need gas or something."

Ricky went over to his nightstand and picked up his wallet. "Actually, I've been thinking about it lately. You've really proved yourself this past month and a half. You took control of your sobriety and you've been helping my brother with his. Plus, spending time with your daughter everyday proves that you're trying to be more responsible." He held out some money, but it was more than just a couple bills. It was what was left of Drake's earnings from his lawn mowing gig. "I think it's time for you to hold on to your own cash now."

For a moment, he didn't quite know how to respond. "Are you sure?" It really had only been for Ricardo's benefit rather than his own. If Drake had really wanted to get high, there were ways to do it without needing to go through Ricky.

"Yeah," the man said, moving the money closer so that he would take it.

He did. "You still wanna check my receipts, though?"

"No. I trust you."

When Drake met his eyes, he saw that his friend was being sincere. Lying for a week about his relapse had broken the trust that they had worked so long to build. Drake had a hard time trusting people who betrayed him — even trustworthy people — so he'd thought that it would take a really long time for him and Ricky to get back what they'd had, especially since Drake wasn't so trustworthy.

"I'm not gonna fuck up again," he swore.

Ricardo stepped closer and pulled him into a hug. "Just don't lie to me again," he said, "even if you do."

"I won't."

When they pulled apart, even Dee could see just how grateful Drake was to be trusted again and it made him smile.

"Go on. Get out of here," the oldest said. "Dee and I have some scheming to do."

Drake left them and, on his way down the hall, he heard, "Goddamn, my brother snores loud."

Dee said, "What are you talking about? So do you."

The door closed.

---

He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he was in the car, so before he'd gone to his mom's, he'd stopped and picked up two five dollar pizzas, his first unsupervised transaction.

The backdoor opened and Audrey stepped outside. She sat down at the patio table next to her son, who was smoking a cigarette while using Megan's laptop. "Hey."

"Hey, Mom."

"How long have you been here?" She sat down and lit herself a cigarette.

"About an hour or two. How was work?"

"It was fine. Today's been a long day, but the week's halfway over. I'm ready for the weekend. Are you feeling better today?"

"Yeah. I went inside for a little bit. It's not so bad anymore."

"That's good. Charlie's sleeping?"

"Yeah, I haven't gotten to see her yet."

Mrs. Nichols took another drag from her cigarette. "You hungry? You wanna stay for dinner?"

"I brought pizza," he said. "There's still some left over."

"Oh, thanks, sweetie. You didn't have to do that."

She knew he didn't currently have a job and they haven't talked about how he got money now, but he had to get it some way. He had enough to take everyone to Urban Air and now he was bringing food. She remembered Walter telling her that Drake had been dealing drugs for the men who had broken into her home demanding the money they were owed. She liked to think that he was smarter than that now. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but they had just started talking again a week ago and there was still a lot she didn't know about him.

As subtly as she could, she asked, "How are you making money?" Once the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Drake could tell that she was suspicious of his income and it honestly hurt a little that she still thought that way about him. "I'm not selling drugs or prostituting," he said a bit colder than he meant to.

"No, that's not what I was thinking."

"Wasn't it?"

Audrey was taken aback by his suddenly defensive demeanor. It was probably a coping mechanism he used unintentionally when he was reminded about the more shameful things he had done.

"I'm sorry," Drake said, lowering his head. He sighed.

"No, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be. You have every right not to trust me. I haven't exactly been known to make the best choices. You have to be skeptical. You've gotta watch out for Charlie. I get it." He combed his fingers through his bangs, embarrassed of his random mood swing. "I, um," he started with his eyes still on his lap, "cut grass in Mrs. Hayfer's neighborhood...for her and some of her neighbors." He tried to speak casually as if he hadn't just snapped on her seconds ago. "But I'm looking for something more stable so I can start supporting myself and Charlie. I put in some applications today, so hopefully..." He trailed off. No matter how he attempted to play off his outburst, the awkwardness between them wouldn't go away. He tried apologizing again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."

He could feel himself getting upset, but not because of what she had said. In his mind, he was talking down to himself, which is something he had always done. He hadn't done it so much lately since his break-up with Dahlia, but he was doing it now. His brain was trying to convince him that his mom hated him and he knew deep down that it wasn't true, but sometimes these pessimistic thoughts were stronger. This was their first real disagreement or argument — or whatever you wanted to call it — since he'd come back and, despite everything, she was testing the waters just as much as he was. She could shun him just as easily as Walter had, so he needed to drop the attitude and control himself better.

"I know," she said. "It's okay." She wanted to rub his arm or brush his hair out of his eyes to let him know that he didn't have to keep kicking himself over it, but she knew he could get upset about being touched during intense situations. She wasn't sure if this was something that would qualify as "intense" to him, but it was better to be safe than sorry, so she left him alone.

The backdoor opened and Megan came out. "You still using the laptop?"

Drake closed it, then passed it to her. "Thanks for letting me use it."

"Did you get any applications put in?"

"Yeah, a few."

"Did you put one in at Chicken Run?"

"I'm really trying to stay out of fast food if I can."

"Now I can't get free chicken tendies."

Drake put his finished cigarette out, smashing it in the ashtray. "Aw, that's sad. I'll cry for you."

The girl glared at him, then flicked his ear.

"Ow! Megan!"

She went back inside without another word as he tended to his ear.

Their mother was smiling. "It's good to see you two getting along again." Despite what had just taken place, she really meant it because she knew their bickering was just their way of showing affection to one another. "Even a few years ago when we were all back at the old house, you two never got along."

When Audrey had given birth to Megan, Drake had been in awe of the baby. He liked to hold her and feed her and show her off to his friends almost like she was his kid. It was when he was in his early teens that things had changed. Audrey thought it was just what hormonal teenage boys did. They want to spend time with their friends and they don't think family is cool anymore. The real reason for his distance was due to the physical abuse and neglect from his father, which started when he was thirteen. This is when the two began arguing a lot. Megan had caught Martin beating Drake and, although the man tried to be more stealthy after that, she was always peeking around the corner or listening through the walls. Over time, it became a normalcy for her and she would start yelling at her older brother, too, who had no problem talking back to her since he was bigger than she was. She was young and she didn't like what was happening at first, but her father used to assure her that everything was okay and that Drake was just getting what he deserved. He would blame the boy for their family being torn apart and, eventually, she started to believe him. She hated to think about it now, but there were times when she used to get Drake in trouble on purpose because she didn't realize how wrong her dad was. All she knew was that Martin seemed to spoil her and baby her after Drake received his punishment and she liked the affection that he gave her.

There was one time where the boy had just been a total shit to her all week. Audrey was working a lot and still adapting to the single parent life and the babysitter didn't give a shit, so when the time came that they went to their father's that weekend, she got her revenge.

*FLASHBACK*

"No, I'm the queen and you're my servant!" commanded a six-year-old Megan.

"I'm not gonna be your servant," Drake said. "I told you: I'm gonna be a knight and you can be a princess and I have to rescue you."

"I'm the queen!"

"Okay, well, you can be the queen then and I'll come rescue you."

She stomped her foot. "You're my servant!" She wasn't giving in and the boy knew this.

"Fuck this. How about I don't even play with you at all?"

She was enraged when he turned and walked away from her, so she did the first thing she could think of. She put her arm in her mouth and bit down hard, then she started screaming.

Drake turned. "What are you doing?" When he saw what she was up to, he started to panic. "Megan, stop! What are you doing?!"

She took her arm out of her mouth and examined the deep bite marks in her skin. Her brother saw them, too. Megan cried some more and some of the tears were real due to the pain.

"Okay! I'll be the servant! Just be quiet, okay?!" He hurried back over to her and tried to shush her, but she wasn't stopping. "Did you hear me? I said I'll be your servant. You can boss me around all you want. I'll do whatever you say. Please be quiet." He tried to put his hand over her mouth, but she shoved him away. "Please. I'll give you those Spider-Man walkie-talkies you always wanna play with and my favorite race car that I never let you touch. I'll even give you the money Grandma sent me for my birthday."

She kept bawling. In fact, she got even louder.

"Please!" Drake tried. "Please, don't!" He started crying now, too. "I'm begging you to stop! Please! Please! I'll do whatever you want! You can have whatever you want! Please just don't—"

"What's going on out here?" Martin asked, stepping outside. When he saw his distressed daughter, his immediate reaction was, "Drake, what did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!" He wore an expression of fear on his face and he was even trembling. He started crying harder.

"What happened, honey?" Martin asked gently, scooping his daughter up in his arms.

"Drake—" She was crying so hard that she could hardly catch her breath through her sobs. "Drake bit me-e-e!"

"I didn't!"

She held out her arm for him to see.

The man's voice was deep and strict. "Jared Drake Parker!"

"She's lying! I didn't do—"

"Hush! I don't wanna hear it!" His voice softened. "You want Daddy to kiss it and make it better?" When the girl nodded, he kissed the bite mark. "There you go. All better. You stay out here and play, okay? I'm gonna give your brother a time-out."

"But she's lying!"

"I said shut up!"

Martin put Megan down, then whipped around to face the boy, who fearfully stumbled backwards. Drake was too scared to look away from his rage-filled eyes. He couldn't even remember how to speak until the man grabbed a fistful of his hair and started yanking him inside.

"Please! I swear I didn't bite her! I swear! Dad, please!" He was led to the girl's bedroom and roughly shoved onto the floor.

Martin slammed the door, then started unbuckling his belt. "Take off your pants."

"No..." he whined with tears dripping from his eyes. "Please, sir."

"Shut up and do what I tell you! Don't make me say it again! Take off your pants! Underwear, too! LET'S GO!"

Drake was already sobbing before he was even hit. He stood and pushed his bottoms down his legs with shaky hands. "Please, sir," he tried again.

Martin snatched him by his shirt collar and slung him face-first onto the bed. He had his belt wrapped up in his hand and he immediately started whooping his son while pressing his spine into the mattress so that he couldn't get up.

"AAAHHH!" he screeched. "OOWW!"

He started out quickly, cracking the belt against his skin twice per second. He slowed down as he got tired, but not by much. Drake screamed bloody murder. He tried to reach back with his hands and block his bottom when the pain became unbearable, but his father wouldn't allow it.

"STOP! PLEASE STOP!" He begged, clawing at the wall in front of him now as if he could pull himself away. "GAAAHHH! GOD, PLEASE! SIR, PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!" Snot dripped down both nostrils and, if he wasn't so focused on the pain, he would be able to taste it. "HELP ME! PLEASE! MEGAN, PLEASE HELP ME! MEGAN! MOMMY!"

"Don't be crying for your mommy! Trust me! She's glad to be fucking rid of you!"

"Sir, please!"

"Have you fucking learned your lesson?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"You ready to apologize to your sister?!"

"Yes, sir!"

Finally, the man stopped hitting him. "And what do you say to me?!"

Drake could hardly speak through his sobbing. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry I lied." He yelped when he was pulled onto his feet.

"Pull up your pants. Let's go! Pull them up!"

He screamed as he bent over. The pain only got worse as the cloth moved up his welt-covered thighs and towards his blistered bottom. He stopped.

"You want another fucking whooping?!"

"No!"

"Pull them up! Now!"

He obeyed. The second he was covered up, his bicep was snatched up and he was dragged out of the room. Moving his legs back and forth caused him great pain. He reached his free hand back there to offer comfort, but it didn't help much. They made their way outside, their speed so quick that Drake tripped on his way down the stairs. Martin caught him by his arm and yanked him back up. He never stopped and his son struggled to keep up due to the pain. He fell once more, then his arm was snatched even harder. He screamed.

"KEEP UP!"

"You broke my arm..."

Megan looked up from where she was picking flowers by the tree line. Her brother had tears and snot running down his face and he staggered along, trying desperately to keep up with the man's large, quick strides.

"Ow! My arm!"

When they were standing in front of her, Mr. Parker said, "Your brother has something he wants to tell you, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry I bit you."

"Look at her when you're speaking to her, boy, and quit mumbling!"

Drake lifted his head, embarrassed of his tears. "I'm sorry I bit you," he said, louder this time.

"You're thirteen years old, boy, and you're hurting your little sister? You don't hurt girls. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Yes, sir. Sorry."

"Now you go on inside and wait for me in my bathroom."

Drake hung his head and choked out another sob.

"GET!"

He flinched, then he obeyed. Even Megan could tell that he was hardly able to walk. He cried audibly as he made his way across the yard and up the porch steps. He opened the screen door, then pitifully turned back and looked at her, his face expressing the betrayal he felt. When Megan saw it, she immediately felt sick to her stomach. She was filled with guilt.

Martin turned to see what she was staring at. When he saw his son standing there watching them, he stomped towards him. "Boy!"

Drake quickly ran inside, bawling even louder as a jolt of fear ran through his body.

The man moved back over to his daughter and squatted down. "Is your arm feeling better?"

She nodded.

"Good. Are you picking flowers?"

"Yep."

"Maybe you can pick some and we'll put them in a cup of water so you can surprise Mommy when you go home tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay!"

He used his hand to mess up her hair, then stood. "I'll come get you when lunch is ready." He went back inside and found his problem child in his bathroom like instructed, sobbing so hard that he could hardly breathe. "You're a piece of shit to hurt a girl like that." When he got no response, he grabbed the boy's injured arm again and roughly pulled him closer.

"AAAHHH!"

"Are you listening to me?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"If I ever find out you've laid your hands on a girl like that again, so help me God, I will fucking beat the living daylights out of you! You understand me?!"

"Yes, sir."

"Get in the closet," he ordered, shoving him away.

"You broke my arm," the boy whined.

"I didn't break your fucking arm. Now do as I say before I break every last bone in your ugly fucking body."

"I heard it pop—"

Before Drake could even finish his sentence, Martin had picked up the closest thing he could reach on the counter: a large bottle of mouthwash. He chucked it at his son, who ducked, then made a break for the closet. The man grabbed his hair and pulled him back. Drake tried to grab hold of anything he could to get away, but it happened so fast that he failed to do so. He was shoved up against the wall and his father held him there by grabbing hold of his throat.

"Don't you ever...ever talk back to me again. Do you understand me?"

Drake gasped for air. A strangled sob left his lips, then he gasped again. He nodded his head rapidly. "Y — HUUH! Ye — kk... HUUH! S-s-sss...kkjjj..." He grabbed his dad's hand with his trembling ones and closed his eyes. "Pss," he begged. "HU—"

Martin squeezed tighter, stopping all oxygen from getting through. "Because if you do..."

The boy opened his eyes to plead with him the only way he currently could. His eyes were full of tears and he could only make out a blur. Black spots began to fill his vision. Terrified, he lost control of his bladder. The side of his gray sweatpants quickly darkened as warm urine rushed down his leg. It soaked his sock and shoe and created a puddle at his feet.

"This is how fast I can kill you, Drake. This is all it takes. I don't need a gun or a knife or anything. I can kill you with my bare hands...anytime I want...for any reason that I want. You'd do well to remember that." Finally, he let go.

"HUUUUUUUH!" He was shaking like all hell as he sucked oxygen back into his lungs, then erupted into a fit of coughs. "HUUUUUH!"

"Are you gonna start obeying me now?"

Due to being choked, his voice came out strained. "Yes, sir." He coughed some more.

"Good boy. Now you clean up this mess you made, you stupid retard, then you get in the closet like I told you to and I better not hear one more fucking sound outta you. You understand?"

He nodded, then whispered, "Yes, sir."

*END FLASHBACK*

That was the last time Megan had purposely abused her power and taken advantage of her brother that way. She felt so guilty and what made it worse was what had happened days later. When they got back to their mom's, Drake stayed in his room. For two days, he wouldn't come out and, when she pushed her ear against the bedroom door, sometimes she would hear weeping. Finally, Audrey made him come out to do his chores. He said he couldn't and she began to get stern with him until he started crying. He complained about his arm, so she took him to the hospital and they received the news that his shoulder was dislocated. He'd dealt with that pain for three days before it was fixed. When asked what had happened, he lied and said one of the older boys in his dad's neighborhood did it. He claimed that he didn't say anything because his father had told him not to go around the older kids and he didn't want to get in trouble for disobeying. Megan knew the truth, though.

Although she never purposely got Drake in trouble with their father again after that, the damage was done. Drake despised her and he was jealous of her. It didn't take long for his hatred to go away because she was his sister, but he never stopped being jealous...even now.

This is why they grew apart. The abuse continued and, for lack of knowing what to do, Megan turned a blind eye and Drake distanced himself from everyone. There were times when they would come together and help one another out, like when Megan came to her brother when she needed to go clothes shopping because he wasn't as smothering as their mother or when Drake had needed someone to talk to the first time his father put him in the hospital, but other than that, they were living two totally different lives that rarely intersected.

Both wanted that to change now, though. They just had a lot of shit to work through. Maybe one day, they'll be able to talk openly without it being weird or forced or hindered by jealousy and guilt.

Drake heard his mom sigh and he noticed that she seemed somewhat sad when he looked at her. "What?" he asked.

"I never thought I'd end up back in a trailer park."

The first place she got with Martin was a trailer. Audrey was hired on by a decent company while he moved up and received a raise. They made decent money and, put together, they were able to buy what they'd hoped would be their forever home. Soon, Drake came along, then Megan, then the divorce. Audrey struggled to keep things afloat by herself, which is possibly why she married Walter only two years later. That only lasted for about five years.

"The house is such a mess," she continued. "It's just dirty and old and it looks bad."

When Drake had lived here with his father, he never really gave a shit. Honestly, he still wouldn't give a shit now, but he understood what his mother was saying. Ricardo was the same way. He always found things that needed to be done. Maybe it was because his home was something he had worked hard for, just like how their old house was something Audrey had worked hard for. He could see why going from that to this was soul-crushing. After all the years of blood, sweat and tears she put into making something of her life, here she was, right back where she'd started: the fucking trailer park.

It was Drake's fault that things ended up this way. Because of the wreck he had caused, Audrey owed an incredible debt to the hospitals and doctors offices and physical therapy places. Of course, it was all worth it because she was able to walk again, but none of this would've happened had he not gotten so worked up over her tossing his last box of Triple C's out the window.

Drake didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say. Luckily, he was saved.

"Sounds like Charlie's up." She put out her cigarette. "I'm gonna take off these clothes and get some pizza. You coming inside or do you want me to get Kenzly to bring her out here?"

"I'm coming in."

They stood and he followed her into her bedroom. She grabbed some clothes out of the dresser and disappeared into her bathroom. Drake went over to the bed and laid down next to his whining daughter.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, then he kissed her forehead.

"You hewe, Daddy?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said, pulling her closer. "Come snuggle me."

She did.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she was looking at the outer space tattoo that was on the forearm of the arm her head was laying on. "Daddy?"

"What?" he said quietly.

"You dwaw on your awm?"

"Well, someone else did. It's called a tattoo."

"Tattoo," Charlie repeated, tracing each planet with her tiny pointer finger. "Tattoo."

Drake hadn't realized just how tired he was until he'd laid down in this comfy bed. He should've came in here earlier and napped while his daughter napped, but at least he got some applications put in. He wouldn't have wanted to do that while she was awake.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

She was quiet for a moment, then she asked, "Why do you always weaw the same tattoos?"

Drake laughed, then he tried to figure out how to explain. "When you get a tattoo, you have it forever. It doesn't wash off in the bath."

"Whoa!" Charlie turned over so that she could look at him, her eyebrows lifted high with surprise.

When he looked at her, he smiled. "You're silly," he said. "I love you so much." He kissed her forehead.

"I wuv you so much," she repeated.

"Are you ready to get up? I brought you a surprise."

"Suwpwise?!"

"Yeah." He sat up, then turned back to her. "Lemme check your diaper." When he did this, he said, "Shoo! Stinky butt!" He poked her tummy to tickle her. "You gotta stinky butt!"

She giggled.

Drake picked up her diaper bag and changed her, then trashed the dirty items. As he washed his hands, his mother entered the kitchen, now wearing a tee and some stretch pants.

"I'm gonna run out to the car really quick. I got Charlie something and I wanted to surprise her."

Audrey furrowed her brows curiously as she put a slice of pizza on her plate.

"No peeking," he told his daughter as he stepped outside.

Mrs. Nichols kept her away from the windows until Drake came back to get her. She followed them outside and sitting right at the bottom of the steps was a little pink tricycle.

"A BIKE!" Charlie exclaimed excitedly. She ran down the stairs a little too fast, but her father was there to help keep her on her feet. She got on and admired the shiny tassels hanging from the handlebars. "It's so pwetty!"

"And look." He leaned over her and squeezed down on the purple horn.

The young girl flinched at the sudden loud noise, then she laughed when she saw him smile, letting her know that it was good. She squeezed the horn, then she put her feet on the pedals, eager to ride.

Since it was hard to get the bike moving in the grass, Drake took her to the street. Audrey watched from the porch as the boy showed Charlie what to do with her feet and pushed her along so that she could practice. She felt pride in her heart. Just yesterday, she had mentioned how much Charlie wanted a tricycle. Today, he went out and bought her one. He was coming over everyday to spend time with her and it really seemed like he was stepping up. Everything was in the beginning stages, but still, things were looking good.

---

Ricardo Santos: quesadillas tonight. Im cooking. eating dinner here?

Drake Parker: yes plez

Ricardo Santos: chicken or veggie?

Drake Parker: v

He opened the refrigerator and the first thing he noticed was how bare it was. It wasn't completely empty, but it didn't seem like there was enough to feed the four people who lived here. Drake pulled out the apple juice, then started to pour some into a sippy cup. He'd planned on getting some, but after seeing what little his mother had, he changed his mind. He put the jug away and screwed the cap on the cup, then he drank some.

"Daddy! That's mine!" Charlie moved closer, her cheeks bright red and her hair plastered to her face via sweat. She seemed curious, like she'd never seen an adult drink from a sippy cup before. "You dwinkin' it?"

"Mmm, yummy," he said.

She wore a toothy grin, then took the cup when he gave it to her. "That's silly, Daddy."

"Alright, baby. Daddy's gotta leave, okay?" His heart broke when her face twisted into a frown. "Aw, Charlie..." he said when he saw her bottom lip quivering. He squatted down to her height.

After he did, she slowly trudged towards him, carelessly dropping her cup along the way. Her head was hung. When she reached her father, he wrapped his arms around her.

"I promise I'll be back tomorrow," he tried, but she was already crying. "Baby—" He was interrupted by her loud bawling, which soon attracted the attention of Kenzly, who entered the kitchen to check on them.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I told her I had to leave."

Another loud whine.

In a cheery voice, Kenzly said, "Well, that's okay because it's almost bath time anyway."

Charlie held on tighter. Kenzly took her hand and started pulling her away, so she just sat down where she was, making herself immovable.

"I'll be here first thing in the morning," her dad said. "I promise." However, this didn't stop her.

Kenzly lifted her off her feet. "You wanna tell him goodnight?" She waited for a moment to give her the opportunity, but she continued crying. "She'll be okay," the young woman assured her ex when she saw his concern.

He still felt awful. The two girls headed into the bedroom to get some clothes for the toddler to change into. Drake went out back to tell his mom he was leaving, but he sat down and lit up a cigarette when he saw that she was smoking.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's just upset that I'm leaving."

"You might have to sneak out next time. I used to have to do that when I went to work. If she saw me leaving, she would start screaming."

"I feel bad." He could still hear her sobbing from out here.

"Once she's in the bath and playing with her toys, she'll forgot all about being upset." She let go of a cloud of smoke. "She really loved that bike."

"Yeah, I think we were outside for an hour. After she figured out how to do it on her own, she had me chasing her. Wore me out."

"Having a kid will do that to you, especially the really young ones. You always have to keep your eye on them. They're constantly getting into things and making messes."

When he finished his cigarette many minutes later, he could still hear faint crying. After he put the burning end out against the ashtray, he sat back in his chair. "So...how long do you think before you trust me enough to bring her to my house for, like, just a night or something?"

She was quiet for a moment. "I think you've proven yourself to be responsible. Why? Were you wanting to take her tonight?"

"Would that be okay?"

"Yeah. I think that would be wonderful."

Drake went inside to give Charlie the good news. He followed the sound of her whining to the bathroom, where she stood in front of the tub, refusing to let Kenzly help her remove her clothes. When she saw her father, her crying picked up even more and she threw her head back dramatically.

"Charlie, do you wanna come stay with me tonight at my house?"

"Ooh, a sleepover," Kenzly said. "That'll be fun, right, Charlie?"

She nodded, then sniffled. "Yes," she said pitifully.

"Come on." Drake held out his hand. "Let's pack your bag."

The child took his hand and followed him into Audrey's room. He picked up her Yo Gabba Gabba! book bag and checked to see what was inside. He packed a few more diapers just to be on the safe side, then he got her another outfit and a pair of pajamas. "These are pretty." He held up the sleepwear, which had cats on it.

"Mew mews."

"When we get to my house, you can see my mew mews. Remember when I told you I had mew mews?"

She nodded and wiped the water from her eye to clear her blurred vision. "Yes."

He zipped the bag. "Okay, let's go tell Nana bye."

Audrey had just come in from the back porch and she met them in the hallway. "Are you leaving me, Charlie?"

The girl nodded, mimicking her grandmother's smile.

"Are you gonna behave while you're over there?"

Another nod.

"Come give me a hug." She squatted down with open arms. "Drake, my keys are on my dresser. Her car-seat's in the backseat of my car."

He went and got the keys, then started outside, but was stopped by his childhood best friend.

"Here," she said, holding out a Cars DVD and a sock monkey. "If she gets rowdy or refuses to sleep, try these."

"Thanks," he said. He took them and put them in the backpack.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, then Kenzly stepped forwards and pulled him into a hug. It was one of those I'm proud of you hugs, but she didn't verbally say that. He really missed having her as his best friend. She could always make him laugh and she always had his back. Even after he fucked her over, she still had his back, and for a split second, he got an image in his head of what his future would look like if they were married. He felt like she was giving him all the important things he'd forgotten to grab on his way out the door to drop the kiddos off at school on his way to work. He was forgetful as shit and, if there was one thing that he'd learned about her while watching her with Charlie, it was that she could multitask and remember all the little things. She'd be a good mom.

"You can come, too, if you want," Drake said, suddenly wishing he could spend more time with her.

"Nah, I don't wanna get in the way of your father/daughter time. It's her first night away. It's special," she said. "Another time, though? Okay?" Kenzly added, expressing interest so he knew she felt the same way and missed him just as much.

"Yeah."

They separated and he went out to the car to put the seat and the backpack in. Afterwards, he went back inside to get Charlie.

"You locked the door back?" Audrey asked.

"Yes, ma'am." He gave her the keys.

"Thank you." She then wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheeks. "Be careful, okay? And call if you need anything — no matter what time it is."

"I will." When they pulled apart, he gave her a reassuring smile. "You ready to go, Charlie?"

She ran towards the front door and tried turning the knob, but her hand was too small to grasp it.

"Hold on. Let's put your shoes on first." He helped her with her tennis shoes, then stood.

"Got everything?" his mom asked.

"I think so."

"You got her bag?"

"It's in the car."

"Alright. Bye, Charlie. I'll miss you."

The toddler was too excited about leaving to pay her any attention and this brought a smile onto Ms. Nichols' face. Due to Charlie's hesitancy towards men, she never expected her to take to her father so quickly, but she had become attached to him almost instantaneously. This morning while she was still half asleep in bed, the first thing that came out of her mouth was, "Is Daddy hewe?"

"Have fun." Audrey waved even though the girl wasn't looking.

"Bye, Mom. Bye, Kenz." Drake opened the door and the two headed out to Julio's car. He buckled her in her seat and made silly faces with her while doing so, then he got in the driver's seat. Before he cranked the vehicle, he pulled out his phone and called Ricardo.

"What's up?"

"I was gonna bring Charlie over to stay the night. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course," he said. "Has she eaten? You think she'll eat quesadillas? Or are you gonna find her something else?"

"Um...I don't really know. She might eat some of the chicken. If not, I'll make her something else when I get there."

"Alright. See you in a bit."

---

Drake held the door open for his daughter and let her walk in first. She was slow and skeptical, but when she made it inside, she looked around in wonder at how much bigger it was than her home.

"Come on," the boy said, following the smell of food to the kitchen, where he was acknowledged with a nod from Julio.

"Hi, Charlie," Ricardo greeted in a friendly, higher-pitched voice.

The girl squeezed closer to her father and hid behind his leg, her face expressing distress.

"It's okay, baby," Drake said. "These are my friends." He turned around and lifted her up, but she hid her face against his shoulder and hugged his neck. He took a seat in the bar-stool at the end so that there would be an empty space in between Dee and himself to keep his daughter from freaking out.

"She's shy," Dee said.

Julio had a pretty average build, but he was still a noticeable size up from his friend. Ricardo and Dee, on the other hand, were probably like giants to the child. Both were tall and muscular with deeper voices than she was used to.

"Hey, Charlie," Julio said. "Remember me?"

She lifted her head just enough to get a peek at him, then her lips twisted into a pout and she started weeping.

"Yeah, Julio does have that effect on girls," Ricky joked and the other guys laughed.

"Shut up."

The banter continued, but Drake's attention was pulled away when he heard a soft voice. "Huh?" He still couldn't make out her quiet words. "What'd you say, baby?"

"He said a b-word."

"What'd she say?" Julio asked with furrowed brows.

"You said a bad word."

"I get a dollar," Charlie said.

"I did not," Julio denied.

"You said S-H-U-T U-P." It made Drake smile a little now that Julio was getting in trouble. It was nice payback for all those times Julio had teased him about Charlie calling him out that day at Urban Air.

"What's happening?" Dee asked.

"Ms. Nichols made a swear jar and every time someone cusses, they have to put a dollar in," Julio explained, "but half of the so-called 'swear words' are just stupid."

"He said a b-word!" Charlie exclaimed. "I get two dollars."

Julio groaned.

Meanwhile, Drake was in awe. "Wow, my daughter can count to two."

Ricardo and Dee shared a bemused glance.

"This is ridiculous. She just got here and she's already taking over. Bro, back me up here."

Instead, Ricky said, "I mean, you really shouldn't be swearing in front of a kid anyway."

Finally, Drake settled it. He pulled out his own wallet and tossed it to his friend. "There. Just give her the money."

Julio hesitated, but he did it for two reasons. Firstly, he didn't want her to start screaming. Secondly, he really wanted to win her over because Drake was his best friend and it would totally suck if his daughter hated being around him.

"Here," he said, holding out the bills. "Friends?"

She took the cash, but she didn't answer him. Drake set her down on the island and she showed him the money.

"I'm telling you," Julio said. "I give it a week before she has us all watching Frozen on repeat and giving her piggy backs on all fours. She's gonna run this house if you let her."

"That's okay," Drake said, using the same voice he did when he spoke to his cats. He leaned forward and kissed Charlie's forehead. He became preoccupied with her while the rest of the guys chatted and joked and hovered over Ricardo and the stove impatiently.

When the food was finally ready, everyone grabbed a plate and started taking their share.

"You hungry?" the young man asked Charlie. "Do you like chicken?"

"Yes. I love chicken!"

"Me, too." Since she was still getting used to everyone and he knew she'd scream if he put her down, he held her against his hip as he made their plates and poured himself a drink. He grabbed her sippy cup out of her backpack and filled it up with juice.

Ricky noticed Drake sit back down in a stool and figured it was because he didn't want the child to make a mess in the living room since they had carpet in there, so he set his plate down on the island and ate there, too.

Pretty soon, everyone settled down and started eating. Charlie sat in Drake's lap and picked at the tortilla her father put in her plate, fascinated with the process of pulling it apart. The boys discussed their day, debated whether it was fair for Julio to get stuck with dishes, and chatted about new music for a while. This went on until they all heard a cough. Suddenly, everyone went silent.

"You okay?" Drake asked his daughter, dropping his quesadilla onto his plate.

Instead of answering, she coughed some more and her eyes glazed over. He gave her a few hard pats on the back, but it wasn't helping. Her coughing got worse. This had happened once before back when Drake and Kenzly were feeding her strawberries. Last time, he'd panicked and his ex took control of the situation. This time, he knew was to do. He curved his finger into a hook and stuck it in her mouth. When he pulled it back out, a piece of chicken came out with it.

"You okay?" he asked again.

She still coughed a little bit, but she was just getting her oxygen back. She nodded.

Drake grabbed her sippy cup and handed it to her. "Here." He pet her hair a bit as she drank. "Can you hand me a knife?" When Julio gave him one, he started cutting up the small chunks of chicken into even smaller pieces.

Charlie set her cup down and, as if nothing had just happened, she picked up another piece of meat and put it in her mouth.

"Make sure you chew your food, okay?"

She picked up another piece, but her dad brushed it out of her hand.

"One at a time. Finish the one you have in your mouth first." He picked up his quesadilla again, so the other guys felt like it was now okay for them to resume eating.

Just to be sure, Julio asked, "Is she okay?"

"Yeah." As the conversation picked back up, he kept a closer eye on her to make sure she wasn't stuffing a bunch of chunks into her mouth.

"So what are you and Charlie gonna do tonight?" Ricardo asked.

"I don't know. I'll probably show her the rest of the house and let her play with the cats. I have to give her a bath and we might watch a movie or play a little before bed." He felt Charlie's slobbery hand on his lips and accepted the piece of chicken she was force-feeding him. "Mmm, that's yummy. Thank you."

---

Julio was on his way to his room when he heard Drake's voice coming from behind the cracked door that he was passing. He stopped, then gently pushed the bedroom door the rest of the way open. Drake and Charlie sat in the floor, petting his curious cats.

"You have to be soft," he was saying, his back to the eavesdropper. "See? They like you."

"So sweet!" she exclaimed as she brushed through the fur.

"You're sweet," he said, then he burrowed his face into the space between her neck and her shoulder and snorted like a pig.

Charlie erupted with joyous laughter and squirmed as she was tickled. She squeezed her shoulder and neck together and he tickled her tummy. "Daddy!" she managed through her chortling. "Stop!"

Her father wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He kissed her hair before letting go. "Guess what time it is!" he said super enthusiastically.

She matched his excitement. "What?!"

"Bath time!"

"Nooo!"

"Yep! Come on. It'll be fun. Guess what. My friend Julio — he's got some secret bubble bath he keeps hidden. If we're reeeally sneaky, maybe we can use some."

She seemed to weigh it out in her head before giving in. "Okay."

Drake pushed himself out of the floor and turned towards his dresser so that he could grab some pajamas out of Charlie's bag, and that's when he noticed Julio leaning up against his door-frame with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, hey. How's it going?" he tried innocently, but he knew he was caught.

"How'd you know about my secret bubble bath?"

"I... Oof. Busted."

"You've been going through my stuff?"

"No," he denied. "I kinda came across it when I was cleaning out your room that one night." He was referring to the night he'd had to comb through it to retrieve all the bottles of alcohol.

Julio really wasn't pressed about it. "Did you get to meet the kitties?" he asked Charlie.

She nodded, although shyly. She watched her father go over to her Yo Gabba Gabba! backpack, but she didn't follow him.

"Did your dad tell you how he got them? I was sleeping on the couch and he left the door open and the cat snuck inside and took a nap on my belly."

The girl giggled.

"Then one day, it got outside and brought back its friend."

Julio looked over at Drake and watched him pick out the things he would need to take with him. A couple months ago, Drake would've been the last person he could picture being a father, but he was actually doing a good job. It was definitely going to be a shift to have a toddler intermeddle in their everyday lives. Whenever Drake starts raising Charlie on his own, things will be different. There'll be a child overhearing their conversations at dinner, a child hogging the tv, a child making a mess all over the place, a child screaming and crying and running around. It's not that Julio would hate it. It was just going to take time to acclimate, but yeah, he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the old way when it was just a houseful of guys roughhousing and walking around in their underwear and leaving sharp objects wherever they please and swearing up a storm whenever they feel like it.

Maybe Julio was getting ahead of himself. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

"So..." Drake started when he was done getting the girl's pj's. "Can we maybe borrow the bubble bath?" He made a puppy dog face and, when Charlie saw it, she joined in.

Julio was in disbelief, then he chuckled. "Well, she definitely is your daughter." He went into his room, then came out with a bottle and passed it to his friend as he led his daughter towards the bathroom.

---

Drake's clothes were wet due to all her splashing and the floor was soaked as well. He had a towel laid out next to the tub now and he was glad he hadn't put on his night clothes before this. He had a bunch of foamy bubbles in his hand as he sat on the edge of the tub and he blew them away. Charlie giggled as they rained down on her. He glanced over at the clock that was hanging on the wall and realized that they had been in here for quite a while.

"Alright, bruh, I think it's time to wash your hair and get out." He reached over and pulled up the drain. "We gotta say bye-bye to the bubbles, okay?"

"Nooo."

"Yeesss. It's getting late, but when we get out, we can make some popcorn and watch a movie together. It'll be so much fun."

"I like po'corn!"

Once all the bubbles were gone, he closed the drain and filled the tub up again. He picked up the shampoo, which belonged to himself. He'd have to remember to buy some for Charlie that he could keep here. Maybe some clothes and toys, too.

Drake put the shampoo in her hair and mixed it all around, then he rinsed off his hands in the water. "Alright. Lay back."

"Cup!" she yelled suddenly, startling him.

"Cup?"

"Cup!"

"Okay. Um..." He looked around the bathroom for something he could use as a cup, but didn't find anything. "Hold on, okay?" He stood and shook his hands dry, then started out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. The second he took a step out the door, he did a full one-eighty. That's not safe, Drake. You don't leave a kid alone in the bath, dumbass. He pulled out his phone and called Julio.

As he waited for his friend to bring the cup, he sat down on the edge of the tub again. He'd almost made a stupid decision, but common sense kicked in right at the last second. Maybe he did have some fatherly instincts in him after all.

Knock. Knock.

He stood and opened the door. "Thanks, best friend."

He went back over to the tub and helped the girl finish up her bath, using the cup to rinse out her hair. Afterwards, he drained the water again. She stood up and started shivering. He wrapped her up in a towel and dried her off. He figured it would be easier to put her diaper on in his room where he could lay her on something soft, so he carried her there and got her dressed.

"Po'corn!"

"Just a sec. Lemme brush your hair." He did this, then they headed downstairs and he put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, watching in adoration as his daughter jumped around excitedly.

"Pop! Pop! Pop!" she imitated.

When it was ready, he poured it into a bowl and they went back upstairs for their movie night.

Drake woke up at about six the next morning because he had to pee. He knew he shouldn't have drank so much last night, but the salty popcorn had made him thirsty. He sat up and put his feet in the floor, then rubbed his eyes, which were blurry with tiredness. His eyes moved over to the television, which was still on the main menu for The Croods DVD that was inside. The song played on repeat, reminding him of his Charlie days. Back when he used all the time, he would watch Across The Universe or Rent or Requiem For A Dream over and over again and, every time he woke from a drugged-out haze, he would hear the songs repeating on the play screen and realize he couldn't remember when he had blacked out.

These thoughts left a bitter taste in his mouth and a wave of nausea hit him. He had to stop thinking about Charlie like this. Charlie... He turned his head around to check on his daughter and make sure he hadn't disturbed her sleep, but he found that she wasn't there. Panic set in. He did a quick scan of his room and saw that his door was open. He was on his feet in an instant. He hurried out the door, looked down the hall towards the other bedrooms and the staircase that led to the kitchen, then he heard tiny laughter and turned the other way. That's when he saw her. She was following Macaulay towards the foyer stairs.

"CHARLIE!" he boomed, his heart pumping out of his chest. He ran over to her and snatched her up just before she could take the first step down. He's watched her attempt to go down the steps on his mom's back porch and knew her legs were too little. "Fuck!" he exclaimed shakily as he pulled her close, his breathing heavy.

The girl started sobbing.

"You can't do that, okay?! Don't ever go near these stairs or leave the room without waking me up first!"

She bawled harder and he realized he had scared her when he'd screamed her name. She was even shaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as he sat down at the top of the staircase. "It's okay. I was just worried, okay? I didn't mean to yell." He was filled with guilt and he reminded himself of his own father, which upset him. He'd used that same terrifying voice and he even scared himself how much he had sounded like Martin Parker.

A door behind him opened and he heard Ricardo's voice. "What happened?"

Drake sniffled. He wasn't going to cry in front of his daughter, but he felt like shit. All the confidence he'd felt about parenting last night was gone. He couldn't do this. He was not capable of being responsible for another life. He could've been waking up to find his child dead at the bottom of the stairs and it would've been his fault. How did she even get the fucking door open?

"She somehow got out and was trying to follow Macaulay downstairs." He rocked the crying girl back and forth and kissed her hair. "It's okay, baby. I'm sorry."

"Are you alright?" the man asked.

He was quiet for a moment because he wanted to say yes, but that would be a lie. "I think I'm gonna have a panic attack."

"Alright, just take a few breaths. I'll be back." He disappeared into his room to throw some sweatpants on over his boxers.

"What's wrong?" Dee, who had woken him when he heard a loud noise, asked.

"Drake's freaking out. I'm gonna go calm him down. Think you could entertain Charlie?"

"Yeah." Dee stood and slipped on some pants, too, then a shirt.

Ricky reached into the top of the closet and retrieved a teddy bear, which he'd had since he was little. "That's all I got. Maybe that'll keep her occupied."

Ricardo got Drake to carry Charlie into his bedroom. She wasn't crying so much anymore, but she still sniffled and her eyes were wet and her mouth was in a pout. She didn't want to be separated from her father, but she didn't put up as big of a fight as the boy expected, which made him feel like she didn't love him so much anymore. His thoughts were racing and his mind was going crazy and his heart was beating fast. Ricardo led him to the bathroom and used the flashlight on his phone because he knew Drake preferred the dark. He talked him through his anxiety before it got super bad. His friend threw up in the toilet, but he didn't completely lose it like he had in the basement at his mother's or at Subway with the Rent cast. He had him calm within minutes.

"You alright?"

Drake spat into the toilet. "Yeah." He sniffled.

Ricky went over to the sink and set out his toothbrush and toothpaste for him.

"I don't really think I can do this."

"Do what?"

The boy didn't respond.

"Be a good father?" He approached his friend. "Drake, you're doing fine. I know it's super scary. Mistakes happen, but you'll learn from them."

"Something could've happened to her."

"But it didn't," he said, "and now you'll be more careful. Drake, every new parent goes through this. There are gonna be some close calls, but you just have to thank God that it wasn't worse and learn from it." He used his cousin as an example. "When Kiara was two, she snuck outside while everyone was sleeping and Martina didn't know until a neighbor on his way to work stopped and brought her to the door. After that, she put childproof locks on everything and that was the end of that. When Julio was a baby, my parents left him in his car-seat in the car one time and went in the house and I didn't say anything because I was little and thought it was funny. It took my mom half an hour before she realized and she ran outside like the house was on fire and Julio was just laying there fast asleep. It never happened again after that."

These stories did actually make Drake feel a little better.

"These things happen and you learn from them. You're not stupid and you're not incompetent. When you go to your mom's, ask her if something like this has happened to her. I bet she'll have plenty of stories. You've only been doing this for, like, two weeks. You're not gonna know what the fuck you're doing, but no one really knows what the fuck they're doing. You'll figure it out, then when you get used to that, she'll be starting school and dealing with classmates stealing her crayons or pushing her down at the playground or some shit and you're not gonna know how to deal with that. Once you get that figured out, she'll be in middle school dealing with boys and dating and make-up and pimples and puberty and that's when the hard shit actually starts. You'll probably never figure that out. Hardly anyone does, then before you know it, high school hits and there's peer pressure and stress about college and learning to drive and she'll be trying to figure out who she is. She'll come in looking punk one day and then preppy the next and she's gonna go through all these phases so fast it'll make your head spin and you're still not gonna know what the fuck you're doing, but you're gonna try your best and that's all you can do."

Drake nodded as he took a few breaths. He was feeling much better now — well, except for the whole boys and dating and shit, but he had a while before he had to deal with that.

"It's gonna get a little rough sometimes," Ricardo continued, "especially with you being a single parent, but I know you can handle it and you've got so much support and people willing to help out when you doubt yourself."

Drake wondered if Mindy had gone through something similar. He wondered if she felt incompetent and that's what led her to using or if she just missed drugs that much. Either way, he honestly didn't blame her. He still thought about Triple C's every single day. "Thanks," he said. "I really needed that six a.m. pep talk."

The man chuckled. "Anytime. You know I got you."

"Charlie's probably freaking out."

Ricardo disagreed. "I don't hear her crying. I'm sure she's fine."

"Well, lemme pee and brush my teeth and I'll be in there to get her."

Ricardo left him alone to do these things, then Drake met him in his room. Charlie was sitting on the floor with the bear in her lap, but she wasn't paying much attention to it. Instead, her eyes were on some video playing on Dee's phone.

"Thanks," Drake said to Dee.

His daughter looked up when she heard his voice.

"Sorry we woke you."

"That's okay," the man said.

Charlie stood, her face now pouty. She trudged over to her dad with her arms up, so he lifted her up.

"Hey, baby." He kissed her hair. "You okay?"

She rested her head under his neck, taking comfort in the presence of a familiar face. Drake told his friends goodnight even though it was morning and he carried his daughter back to his room.

"Let's get dressed, okay?" he said, getting her clothes and diaper stuff out of her backpack.

"Whewe we goin'?"

"We're gonna go to Nana's."

His mom was probably up and getting ready for work. He might just catch her before she had to leave, but if not, he'd text her and ask her to leave the door unlocked. After sitting with her yesterday and listening to her lament about living in an old, run-down trailer, he'd planned on going over today to clean up. Since he was awake, it was probably best to head on over there because he didn't know exactly what needed to be done. He hated cleaning. He'd never bothered to do any of this when he'd lived there, but he felt at fault for his mother having to resort to living there and he wanted her to feel comfortable there.

"I didn't mean to yell at you earlier." He felt the need to reiterate the importance of some things now that they'd both calmed down. He pulled a wet wipe out of the pack. "But you can't go near those stairs by yourself, okay?"

"Okay."

"You promise?"

"I pwomise."

"And if you wake up, don't leave this room unless I'm with you. Okay?"

"Okay."

He opened the tube of diaper rash cream and squirted some onto his fingers. "Where were you going?"

"To the girl."

"Well, the mew mews like to go up and down the stairs, but that doesn't mean you can follow them."

"They like staiws?"

"Yeah, they like stairs." After he got her diaper on, he grabbed another wipe and cleaned off his hand. He got her dressed, then he went in the closet for a moment to change his pants and underwear. When they were both ready, they headed downstairs, with Drake holding onto the girl's hand. He went into a small cleaning closet that was next to the laundry room and grabbed some things, then they quietly slipped out the front door. "Macaulay?" His brows furrowed with confusion when he saw his cat playing in the bushes next to the porch. He squatted down and wiggled his fingers around. "Come here, bruh." He clicked his tongue and the cat came. He stroked her fur a couple times, then put her back in the house.

"She came outside, too?"

"Yeah," Drake said. He noticed that Dee's car was now gone. "She probably ran out when Dee left."

"Dee."

"Yep. Dee."

"Dee. Dee. Dee."

He led her to the car and got her buckled in.

"Look at that," she pointed and her dad followed her gaze.

"That's the moon. Can you say moon?"

"So little!"

Drake chuckled.

---

When he entered the house, he saw Kenzly standing in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee. She wore an over-sized tee and Drake caught a quick flash of her pink panties underneath before she turned towards the sound of the opening door.

"Hey," Drake whispered as not to wake the sleeping girl whose face was nestled into the crook of his neck.

"Morning," she said. She hadn't expected them so early. "Everything go alright?"

"Yeah." He moved towards the kitchen table with his hands full. He carried a sleeping Charlie, her book bag, the shoes she had kicked off in the car and a McDonald's sack. He accepted Kenzly's help when she came to relieve him of some of the weight. "I had some stuff I wanted to do around the house for my mom today, so I figured I'd get an early start. There's a bacon, egg and cheese for Megan and you still like the breakfast burritos, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

They were still whispering.

"And there's two hash browns for everyone."

"You can lay her down on the couch. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thanks." Drake took Charlie to the living room and carefully laid the girl down. He grabbed a blanket and covered her up, then joined Kenzly in the kitchen. He pulled a biscuit and two hash browns out of the bag and grabbed himself a soda, then sat down next to her.

---

Despite the somewhat nippy temperature, Drake was sweating. He took a step back to examine his work so far as he took another hit from his cigarette.

"Looking good," Kenzly called as she carried Charlie's tricycle back into the yard. "The house, too."

The young man chuckled, then watched as his daughter galloped towards him.

"Did you see me?! Did you see me wide my bike?!"

"I did!" he said enthusiastically, tossing his finished cig away. "You did so good!"

Kenzly joined them because she knew her friend was busy, so she was watching Charlie.

"I was supah fast!"

"You were! Like a race car."

"You got a lot done," Kenzly noticed.

"Yeah, the back and the sides weren't so bad. It's just the front that had a lot of mildew and stuff on it. I just got this little bit left."

"You gonna put Charlie down for a nap afterwards or do you want me to?"

"I'll do it. I probably need a nap, too."

"Alright. Well, I'm hungry. I'm gonna make some chicky nugs. Come on, Charlie. Let's go inside and make Daddy some lunch."

Drake wiped the sweat from his forehead and again looked at the section that he had left. He could knock this out in about five or ten minutes probably. His attention was pulled over to the two girls. He could hear his daughter's voice, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. He smiled. Back at the nightclub when he'd first ran into his step-brother, Josh had made him feel like shit for ditching his kid, but he was thankful for that. He might not have come back had he not and he could no longer imagine going through life without having Charlie in it. Maybe Josh had been a bit harsh, but Drake had needed to hear it.

He picked up the water hose and pointed it at the two girls, then he pressed the trigger and water sprayed from the nozzle. Both shrieked, then Charlie laughed.

"That's silly, Daddy! Daddy's silly!"

"He is, isn't he?" Kenzly said.

After they went in, Drake picked up the spray bottle he had and sprayed a large portion of the area he was working on. He gave it a minute or so to soak in, then he climbed up the little ladder, got the long, black brush he was using and started scrubbing over the spot. Next, he picked up the hose and rinsed it off. He did this a couple more times until all the green was gone and the trailer was sparkling clean. After that, he went around to the side of the house to turn off the hose, carried the ladder back down to the basement, then headed to the kitchen, where he joined his friend and his daughter for lunch.

"Daddy, you p.u."

"I know," he said. "I've been working."

Kenzly smiled.

Drake had worked up quite the appetite, so he finished first although he had been the last to arrive. "I'm gonna take a quick shower before I lay down with her. Can I borrow some clothes?"

"Yeah, there's some — I'll get them." She wiped the crumbs off her hands and went down to the basement because she wasn't sure if Drake was all that comfortable going down there yet.

He thanked her when she brought him a band tee and some pajama pants. "Is that my...? So you're the one who had my John Lennon shirt."

"Hey, you left it at my house. If you leave something and don't ask for it back within a year, it's officially up for grabs, so it's mine now."

"That's not a rule."

"It totally is. That's how I've collected half my DVD collection and wardrobe."

"You have some of my movies?"

"I have some of my movies," she corrected.

Drake rolled his eyes. "We'll see about that," he said in his best Tommy Wiseau impression, then he took the clothes and went into the bathroom.

---

Charlie had been asleep for about twenty-five minutes now. Drake had thought he'd be able to fall asleep, too, but he saw now that it wasn't happening. Maybe he was still a bit wary about closing his eyes in the room that had once belonged to his father. He carefully slipped out of bed and tiptoed out the door, then cracked it behind him. He found Kenzly — now dressed — hanging out with Megan in the living room.

"S'up?"

Megan pulled her eyes away from whatever Reform teen drama she was watching on the DVR and greeted him. "Hey."

He sat down on the love-seat, which is where his dad's recliner used to be. His mother really did do everything she could to make each room different, but no matter how she changed things, the memories were still there.

"Do you know if there's anything else around the house that my mom wanted done?" he asked his ex.

"Um...lemme think." A pause. "I know she wanted the front door painted over and she bought some new knobs for the back doors. You know how they've never locked right and have to have that chain around the handles. I know she got some racks that she wanted to hang in the kitchen so she can put the coffee cups on it and there's a wobbly toilet seat. It's just a bunch of little things like that."

Drake nodded. "Does she have paint?"

"Yeah, she bought some. I'll have to find it."

"Alright. I'll go ahead and get started on the toilet seat. Just make me a list of whatever you can remember and I'll try to get as much done today as I can."

---

Drake managed to fix the toilet seat, paint the door, change out the knobs for the double doors that lead out back, set up some shelves that go in the corner of the shower, move an old mattress out to the curb for the garbage men to pick up and clean the lint out of the dryer vent. He could remember when he was little and they'd had someone install a new washer and dryer in their old house. When the guy removed it, he had cautioned Audrey about how much lint was in the silver aluminum pipe on the back and said it was a miracle that it hadn't already caught on fire. It had scared a ten-year-old Drake to death and it had kept him up at night sometimes when he was little. Even now, it was something that he never forgot, so he'd gone down to the basement, pulled the dryer away from the wall, then Googled how to check. He knew Martin had never done this and these were his same machines, so if Audrey hadn't done it either, then there was no telling how long it had been since these were cleaned. They probably never were. Sure enough, when he checked, there was a bunch of lint, so he cleaned it out and felt a bit of pride for figuring out what to do. Most of the handyman work he had done was fairly simple, but this was something he'd never done before and it gave him a sense of usefulness.

He was currently in the kitchen hanging the two coffee mug racks. They were basically just rails that curved at each end so that they could be secured into the wall. They were actually just short curtain rods and she had bought some S-shaped shower curtain hooks to go on them.

Kenzly thought it was nice what Drake was doing for his mom, so she decided to help. She made beds, did the laundry, vacuumed, cleaned the bathrooms, et cetera. Even Megan got up and helped a little bit, but when Charlie woke back up, she took charge of watching her. Audrey was going to come back to a spotless house and Drake just hoped it was enough until he could get rich and buy her her dream home.

After dropping the last pin in, he tugged on the bar to test it's strength, then he hung the hooks — five on each one. Megan had already set out the cutest mugs, so he placed each one on its own hook. Afterwards, he stepped back and looked at his work. It was a cute idea and his mother was an avid coffee drinker, so she had plenty of cups. That was pretty much all Drake had given her on Mother's Day, Christmas, her birthday and every other holiday where gifts were exchanged for about six consecutive years. Kind of a cop-out now that he thought about it, but she still had them all — an entire cabinet turned into an I-didn't-really-put-much-thought-into-this shrine. What an asshole he was. Audrey kept everything her son had ever given her and maybe it's because he hadn't given her much. It's not like she was into the material aspect anyway. All she really wanted was his time and attention and affection. Instead, she got a cheap coffee cup he either found at the thrift store or stole from whatever girl hid him in her bedroom overnight when he didn't want to stay at his dad's. Nothing says "Happy Mother's Day!" like a souvenir mug from some beach resort you've never even been to.

---

When Audrey got home from work, she found Drake in the kitchen washing the dishes. "Well, what is going on here?"

The boy turned. He hadn't heard her enter over the sound of running water and the living room tv blasting some cartoon show. "Hey. How was work?"

"It was good." She did a scan of the area, noticing that everything was spotless and the rods she had bought to use as a makeshift mug rack were on the wall. "You've been cleaning."

When he finished the last dish, he cleaned out the sink and washed his hands. "Yeah. Megan and Kenzly helped, too."

She smiled. "It looks nice. I noticed you did the outside, too. It looks great."

He dried off his hands, then turned to give her his full attention. "I know it's not the nice house you wanted, but you've got the shiniest place in the whole trailer park," he said, cracking a smile at his own humor.

"Oh, Drake..." She went over to him and wrapped his arms around him. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I know. I just wanted to make things a little better for you."

She pulled back a bit and met his eyes with her glistening ones. "Sweetie, you know I don't blame you for this, right? If I'd really wanted to make it work at the old house, I could've. Moving here had nothing to do with you, okay?"

He gazed downwards because he knew her words weren't true and he felt bad that she felt like she couldn't even admit it to him.

Audrey put her hand on his cheek and made him meet her eyes again. She knew what he was thinking and dropped the subject. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said. "If you ever need anything done, you can always call me."

It's been a couple weeks, but she still couldn't get over how great it felt to have him back in her life. He really had grown up. Sometimes it felt like the Santos brothers did a better job at raising him than she had. Just over three and a half years ago, she was out driving one night for some errand and just so happened to see him laying in the middle of the street, high out of his mind. She's seen him looking as thin as a twig like his bones would snap at the slightest touch. She's listened to him vent in anger, blaming her and his siblings for his addiction. She's watched him repeatedly nod off at the dinner table on Christmas Eve. She's heard in excruciating detail the things that her ex husband had done to their son. She's watched him cry with confusion and fear after he had wrecked the car he'd shared with his step-brother. She's witnessed him suffer violent beatings in her front yard and in her own living room. She's comforted him after the death of his girlfriend. She's seen him feel so desperate that he had been willing to publicly exchange sexual acts for the safety of his family. She's seen him laying in a coma in the hospital after having overdosed on a dangerous mixture of cough medicine, amphetamines, benzodiazepines and alcohol. She's sat with him as he cried and apologized for being the way he was.

One time, she went over to Martin's to talk to him about her missing baby boy. Sometimes, it felt like Walter couldn't understand or that he didn't care and she thought her ex husband could relate. When she got there, she found no sign of her ex, but instead, Drake was passed out on the couch and the coffee table in front of him was covered with beer cans and an ashtray full of cigarettes and a pipe the boy had made to smoke marijuana using one of those beer cans. When he woke up, the first thing he did was go for the pipe, then he froze when his mother had cleared her throat. He left soon after. She thought he'd been sleeping in some dark alley somewhere and getting his food out of trash cans, but he had been living there all along. The whole time, they could've eased her worries — at least a little bit — but they let her believe that he was probably laying dead in a ditch somewhere. For a long time, she thought he was mad at her or that he hated her or blamed her like he'd sometimes claimed. It took her a long time to realize that that wasn't true. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He had avoided her because he was too ashamed of himself to face her. All this time, she had thought he felt that way about her and, meanwhile, he was thinking that she felt that same way about him.

She's spent countless night sobbing and praying and begging and screaming to God on Drake's behalf...and here he was. He stood right in front of her, trying desperately to make up for the wrongs he had done —washing dishes and painting doors and tightening some bolts as if that would make up for the hell he had put her through for the past four years.

And it did make up for it. Just being here now made up for it.

---

Audrey looked up when she heard the back door open. Drake came out and took a seat at the patio table, then lit up a cigarette like his mother.

"What's she doing?" the woman asked.

"Eating string cheese and playing some shark song over and over again on Kenzly's phone." He took a hit and seemed to visibly relax his muscles.

"How did it go with her last night? Was she much trouble?"

"No. We had fun. We ate and I showed her the house and the cats and gave her a bath and then we watched a movie. She fell asleep thirty minutes in."

"Lucky. A lot of times, she'll fight sleep and still be awake when it's over. How is she with your friends?"

"She's still pretty shy, but Dee kept an eye on her for a second this morning and she didn't cry."

"That's good," she said. "How are your friends around her?"

"They're nice and all." Drake shrugged then looked at her when she didn't respond. "Why?"

"Nothing. Just... This is a big change for you, but it's also a big change for them, too."

"I know."

She didn't think he quite understood. "When I got pregnant with you, my friends started inviting me to hang out less and less until they just stopped inviting me altogether. After you were born, I was so busy that I didn't even have time to miss them."

"Julio and Ricky wouldn't do that, though. They understand. I mean, I've been learning how to balance my time, too."

"That's good," his mom said, "but she's not with you twenty-four/seven right now. When she is, they might get a little tired of having a three-year-old kid tag along everywhere they go. Maybe they won't. I just think most young people do."

Drake absorbed her words and really took them into consideration. He didn't want to lose his friends, but if they did get tired of Charlie being around, then there was nothing he could really do about that. Still, he said, "I just feel like, if they've held on this long after all the other chaotic things I've put them through, then this should be a piece of cake for them."

Audrey laughed. "You might be right."

A minute passed in silence before Drake spoke again. "When me and Megan were little, did something...I don't know...bad ever happen? Like, that made you feel like you were a bad parent?"

She snorted. "All the time. It still happens, though not as much."

"Like what?"

"Well..." She thought of an example. "Okay, so when you were, like, two years old, I took you to the pool that your Aunt Kendra had in her neighborhood. This was your first time ever being around a big pool like that. I was carrying all this stuff and trying to find an empty chair. I thought you were right next to me, but you immediately ran straight for the water. I heard this man yelling 'Ma'am!' and I turn around and you were in mid-jump. He caught you by the arm just before your head went under and I freaked out and started crying. He was really nice about it, though, and he calmed me down and told me about something similar that had happened when his daughter was younger. After I pulled myself together, you and I had a really fun day, but from then on, any time we were going to any type of body of water, I made you put your floaties on before we even got out of the car."

"Geez, that sounds terrifying."

"It was. You were always like that — running headfirst into danger that you knew nothing about. When I tell you that keeping up with you was a job..." She was laughing and he laughed, too. "Megan, too. Remember when we were leaving the grocery store? I stopped for a second so the doorman could check my receipt and Megan was gone. She flew out the door and I don't know what you were busy doing."

Drake had been about ten or so. He remembered this day. For some dumb reason, he had stopped at the bank they had in the front of the store because they had a really colorful sign that had caught his attention, but it turned out to just be their hours of operation.

"I screamed and ran after her and there was this big F150 and that lady just managed to slam on her brake in time. I don't even think she saw Megan because her truck was so big. She probably saw me running frantically. Her tire was taller than Megan and she was probably two feet away from her. I snatched her up and started crying and the doorman came out to check on me and he gave me my purse. I don't know if I slung it off or what, but the strap was broken off of it."

This was one of the first times Drake could remember witnessing his mother in tears and it had made him cry, too. She had adrenaline pumping through her and she was so angry and scared of what could've been that she yelled at Drake for wandering off. She apologized on the way home and, looking back on it, he could see how it was just an accident, but he'd always felt at fault and he still carried those feelings with him today.

"Why do you ask?" She looked at him. "Did something happen last night?"

He decided to admit to his mistake because she's clearly been there before and she probably had good advice or encouragement or something helpful. "She got up when I was still sleeping and somehow opened my door and started following the cat. I woke up soon after and caught her right as she was about to fall down the stairs. I yelled at her and she started crying and I was just trying to keep it together. It woke Ricky and Dee up. Dee watched her and Ricky took me to the bathroom. It freaked me out so bad I had a panic attack and threw up."

"Oh, honey..." She reached over and rubbed his bicep.

"I felt so bad because I couldn't even deal with it. I had to leave her with someone else she didn't even know and go through my thing first before I couldn't even talk to her calmly. I just feel like I shouldn't have done that, but if I wouldn't have... Like, I just have no control of myself sometimes. One second, I'm fine, then the next, I'm just...screaming and bawling and hurting myself. You've seen it. I feel like I'm supposed to be a man and handle my shit, but I literally just can't."

Audrey was just as clueless as he was. It's only been a couple of weeks since their reunion and she was still learning about the aftermath of his traumas. She wanted to help, but she had no idea how. Still, she would help him figure it out because that's what mothers do. "Are you taking any medication for your anxiety?"

"No."

"Do you think maybe that could help?"

"I don't know." He sighed. He didn't have much faith in medications after last time. "Maybe."

"What about talking to someone — a counselor? It really helped Josh a lot."

"I hate counselors," he said.

"Maybe you can give the medicine a go? Or if you do wanna talk, I'm always willing to listen. I'm definitely not as qualified, but I'm your mother and I think that counts for something."

"Thanks," he said. "I feel better."

She looked skeptical.

"Really. I was starting to doubt myself this morning, but Ricky told me that these things happen to a lot of parents and he said I should ask you. Now I feel less stupid."

"You're not stupid," she assured.

This wasn't the first time she had heard him call himself that and she wondered where it came from. Maybe it was something his father had called him often, or maybe it was a direct result of being compared to his siblings all the time.

"I wish you saw yourself the way I see you. You're such a bright and caring and strong person. You think you're dumb because of what you've been told all your life, but not performing well in school doesn't mean you're stupid. Not everyone is meant to excel at math or grammar. There are different kinds of intelligence. When it comes to music, you know more than anybody I've ever met. When you watch movies, you rarely actually discuss the movie itself because you're always noticing things about the directing and the writing and the cinematography. To this day, Charlie, who spent a year living in the same house as Walter and Josh, refuses to let either one pick her up, but you show up and talk to her for all of five minutes and already you're her best friend. Whether you know it or not, you're great with kids. When you babysat for your Aunt Kendra, she said her kids always spoke so highly of you and Charlie thinks the world of you. When it comes to things like that — things that matter — it comes naturally to you and you don't even realize it. Charlie is lucky to have you as a father. You might not be able to help her change her fractions into decimals when she gets older, but you can teach her the important things, like love and compassion and self-respect because you love her and you care about her and you respect her. As she grows up, that's gonna stick with her and she's gonna take that with her for the rest of her life."

After a moment, Drake nodded. "You're right. I just need to stop over-thinking so much."

Maybe Drake hated himself and he didn't think too highly of himself, but his mom was right: Charlie thought the world of him, and maybe that was just enough.

---

Author's Note: So what do you guys think of Charlie and Drake being a dad now? I would love to know your thoughts because things are kind of moving in a new direction and I don't know if it's something people would wanna read or not, so please leave a review. Thanks to the two who reviewed last chapter. Stay safe. Be kind. Love each other. CCC ya!