Duncan smokes in this one and he's 17. If you don't like that, don't read.
Soon, school ended and Duncan had purposely wasted a couple hours with Courtney and her friends. Whatever his girlfriend says, goes. If not, he knew he would probably be coming home in crutches or even a wheelchair. He's not taking the chance.
Anything was better than his home anyways.
It was around 8 p.m. when he'd finally headed inside the house he'd never call a home. Before, everything went wrong with him and was back in Ohio. Not here in Toronto.
The house was quiet. As usual. Everything seemed dead. The liveliness and chatter faded the second they heard the punk step in. No one spoke to each other. Especially when Duncan was around. The three family members ignored him like the plague. All except his mother, who couldn't pick sides between her son and husband like the rest of Duncan's brothers.
Duncan's mother, Claire, gave a little smile at her son before walking past him and whispering, "I've got to go but your father's mad at you. Don't make it worse."
Without a response, Duncan nodded as he tried to head upstairs without making noise. If his father heard that he came back, he knew it was over.
"Duncan," Duncan's father, Richard stated as he sat on his designated spot in the living room. "Come here."
The punk groaned as he solemnly trudged over to his 'father'. Beside Richard were the punk's two brothers. Both are older. His father's minions. "What is it?"
Richard pulled away from his newspaper to the punk. Then, he looked over to his other sons-the good ones-and signalled them to leave before his eyes drew back to the biggest disappointment of his life. "Duncan, why were you late?" He questioned, checking his watch. "It's quarter-to-8 and school ended around 4, no? What's the difference?"
"Uh... I guess I just lost track of time and, uh..."
"So you don't know the answer?"
"I do. Just tryin' to explain why I came late. It's just that I-"
Duncan's father placed his newspaper on the table, anger is slowly rising. "Do you know the answer or not?"
"Uh..."
"Three hours and forty-five minutes. You were meant to have that interview today, Duncan." Richard commented. "What were you doing that kept you so busy for three hours and forty-five minutes. Were you doing drugs again? Skipping school?"
In all honesty, the punk had forgotten about the interview. "It just slipped out of my mind, alright?"
"Bullshit!" Richard claimed, halting up and using the arm rest of his seat for support. He had a leg issue. "It just slipped out of your mind!? That's the excuse you're going with you son of a-" Pause. He took a deep breath as he was about to slur it all out. "You think I'm going to believe that shit, Duncan? You're seventeen for goodness sake! What were you really doing?"
"It wasn't like that," Duncan protested. He'd been sick of these fights. "I was just hanging out with some friends. I didn't remember." He mumbled.
"I told you to come foronething. Can you not do anything right!?"
Many thoughts were running through the punk's head. Such as retorting back, punching him, and more. But he was reminded by the words of his mother and unclenched his fists. "Yeah. I know."
Richard sighed heavily as he threw an envelope on Duncan's face. "Go to your room." He stated, sitting back down. "And for that, I've sold you motorbike."
The envelope was report 'sreport card. He failed again.
As Duncan marched out of the living room to his room, he spotted his two older brothers. They were secretly watching the thought, rolling his eyes at his brothers before leaving.
The punk trudged to his room, chucking the envelope away. He wasn't going to just sit there and wait for another fight. His father was the last person he'd want to see at the moment.
He just needed to get away.
So, Duncan placed a hoodie he'd used to wear on a daily basis and snuck out through the window. This was the first time in months since he's done this so he was a little rusty. But he managed to have escaped and not cause any noise for anyone to hear.
The first place he needed to go was the drug store. So he did.
Inside the store, there was an elderly woman looking for make-up. Other than that, there was no one else. There wasn't even a worker by the counter. However, Duncan came to get what he needed and fortunately, one of his friends worked late at night in the store.
Duncan was waiting by the counter for someone to assist him until a worker appeared by the counter. Also happening to be an old friend of the punk. Before his change.
"Is that really you?" The ginger, Scott, asked, eyeing the punk. "Duncan? What the heck happened to your face? You hair isn't green anymore."
"Just wanted to try something new." Duncan ran his hands through his hair as he responded, hiding the truth from him. He wasn't just going to tell Scott that his girlfriend forced him to do it. The ginger still thinks he's that badass and cool. "Two packs."
Scott nodded as he reached for the two packets of cigarettes from the tiny drawer. In the little drawer, there were tons of other little things he sold such as vapes, drugs, and honestly anything imaginable.
"I thought you quit doing that shit. Wasn't it just alcohol now?"
The punk shrugged, pulling out a ten-dollar bill out of the pocket of his hoodie. "Eh. This shit makes me feel better."
"True that." The ginger responded, handing the two packets to the punk and taking the money. "Though, I thought G would've been here to stop you."
Scott didn't know about the fact that 'G' isn't friends with the punk anymore. That only made things worse for Duncan, thinking about it again.
DJ, the peacemaker, stepped in. It was in hopes to soften the situation. "We're just looking out for you, man. That girl doesn't seem like the type of person you'd want to mingle with, you know?"
"Yeah!" His best friend chimed in.
What made the punk more angry is the fact that his own best friend whom he'd known since they were in preschool was now against his choice of a girlfriend.
Duncan inched closer as he was eyeing his best friend. "What is the problem? Court had done nothing wrong and you guys are fucking telling me that there's something wrong with her!? I told you, she's my girlfriend and you guys will have to deal with it. Especially you." He stated, narrowing his eyes down at her.
"She's changing you, man."
"And she's so mean too! You used to hate her!" The glutton exclaimed, eating his bagel.
Then, his best friend crossing her arms. "You've changed a lot since she's been here. And it's not in a good way."
Those words hit harder than expected. Everyone in his life had said that to him. Whether it was parents to teachers or random family members he met after ten years. They don't know what's going on but somehow, he's only gotten worse. But now his friends saying this? His best friend saying this?
"Yeah, but she's not here now us she?" Duncan joked, trying to shake off the memory. He needed to smoke it off.
The ginger placed the money in the cash register as he glanced at the clock. "Eh. My manager's gonna show up soon so you gotta bounce."
"Alright, bye."
"Bye bye." Scott waved in humming way as he took a bite of an old donut he found.
The punk found a spot as he lit his lighter.
In the tranquil night, he felt at ease, puffing air out of the cigarette but the thoughts kept coming. The way he'd easily ignored his friends and shouted at them.
It was too hard to keep it in. Not even clenching his fists and taking deep breaths like his father was helping him relax. Those words were the exact words he didn't want to hear at the moment.
"Are you fucking kidding me!? Not in a good way? Why's that, huh!?"
The surfer bit her lip. She wasn't much for friendship fights. "You're not acting like yourself. You're changing yourself because Courtney doesn't like it."
"Yeah Duncan, she killed Scruffy." The glutton stated. "That was Scruffy!"
He remembers the excuses he made for the CIT.
The punk scoffed at the comment. "It was going to die anyways. Scruffy was just a... stupid, little pet." If someone had ever said that to Scruffy, their head would've been chopped off. There was nothing in the world Duncan cared about more than Scruffy. "Big deal."
Scruffy wasn't just a stupid, little pet. Scruffy used to be his prized possession. The prized possession he just overlooked as if it was nothing. That spider wasn't nothing.
They still weren't leaving. All Duncan was feeling was more and more regretful. It wasn't stopping.
The five friends gasped at him.
"Dude, are you being serious?" The blonde asked.
"Yes. I am. Scruffy wasn't just a big deal and neither is this, alright?" Duncan defended, crossing his arms. "I'm not going to change myself because my girlfriend doesn't like it. Then, everything about myself would've changed. You still see me with these, right?" He asked, pointing to his mohawk. "Court hates it but she's not going to force me to remove it."
Blinded by love. The perfect description of the punk a couple months ago.
The mohawk was the first thing the CIT forced him to remove and after weeks of trying to convince her that the mohawk should be kept, it was removed. Courtney had shaved it off. Then came the piercings and tattoos and then everything he liked. There was no resemblance from the person he was now to a couple months ago.
Smoking hadn't helped a bit and had only increased the thoughts. Even thoughts of his father joined in.
"Big deal? You cannot be serious. I thought you loved that thing." She stated. "No. You did love Scruffy. This is all because Courtney didn't like it."
"You can't let Courtney force you to hate the things you like, man!" DJ commented.
"It isn't because of her! You're mad because your retarded boyfriend didn't work. That doesn't mean mine wouldn't either, got that?" Duncan asked, running his hands through his hair. "Nothing is because of Courtney."
Duncan furiously shoved the pack in the pocket of his hoodie when he felt something. It was cylinder shaped and cold. The punk pulled it out to see his spray can. It was the last one remaining.
His best friend bit her lip before she yelled out something out of hand. Though the thoughts of her ex did anger her. "Okay, for that, fuck you. And second, I'm helping you."
She was helping. And he regretted not listening to her. Times like this were when he missed his best friend the most.
He wanted to hug and kiss her.
Kiss? That was probably the lung killers he was having. Also known as cigarettes. He needs to forget about that.
He did have his spray can with him now. Maybe a little reminiscence of his past? After all, he was right in front of the school.
Also, I know Scruffy was mentioned in the past memories thing but like in this story, Scruffy was very important to Duncan. So when he was saying that stuff, it seemed very unlike him. More like Courtney..