School dragged on painfully slow. I could barely sit still, jiggling my legs as the teacher droned on about god knows what.
"This shit is pointless," I muttered to Gomie.
He nodded sagely. "Tell me about it. But we're trapped in here for now."
When the bell finally rang, Gomie turned to me. "So I was thinking - my fam's got this sweet lake house in the mountains. Real private, you know. Why don't we go camping there sometime?"
The thought of escaping to somewhere beautiful with my new friend was incredibly appealing. But Big Hank's rules came rushing back - no friends, strict curfew, stay away from "trash" like Gomie and his kind.
I wanted to say yes so badly it hurt. But I knew the hell that would rain down if I dared disobey Big Hank. "Umm, sure, that sounds great," I mumbled unconvincingly.
Gomie's brow furrowed, seeing right through me. "Something wrong, Hank?"
I stared hard at my worn sneakers. "Nah man, nothing." But we both knew it was a lie.
Shit, I thought as I heard the commotion before even reaching the trailer. Big Hank must've discovered his stash was light.
I entered to find him flipping over furniture and shouting like a madman. "Which one of you fuckers sniffed my coke, huh? I'll kill ya!"
Ma was cowering in the corner as usual, no help there. Hank spun to me, eyes blazing. "You! Fat boy, you been into my stuff?!"
He marched over, grabbing my shirt in meaty fists. I could smell the stale beer on his hot breath. "I...I didn't touch nothin Dad, honest!" I sputtered.
"Bullshit!" he roared, rearing back a massive fist. I cringed, waiting for the blow. But then his face changed, an even meaner idea taking form.
"I know how you can make it up to me..." he growled, dragging me over to the cabinet. He yanked it open to reveal a huge bag of powder.
"Here. Sniff this. All of it. Teach ya not to mess with a man's stash!" he cackled. I began to shake, terror coursing through me.
I couldn't help the tears that spilled over, no matter how hard I tried to be strong. Big Hank seemed to feed off my fear, looming closer with each sob.
"Oh dear God, are you crying?" He said in a mocking cry-baby voice. "Only girls cry! Are you some kind of sissy?"
"N-no sir," I stammered, trying to will the tears away. But they kept flowing freely down my cheeks.
"I said, are you crying?!" He bellowed, spit flying in my face. I cowered back against the wall.
"No sir!" I managed to choke out. But my runny nose and wet eyes told a different story.
His massive hand shot out, gripping my throat. "I said, will you cry boy?! Are you gonna stand there bawling like a little bitch?"
I scrambled to regain some shred of courage, thinking of what Gomie would do. Meeting Hank's eyes, I steeled my voice and said clearly, "No sir. No more crying."
He searched my face, seeming disappointed not to break me further. He let go, storming off muttering about "useless crybabies'.