Something Gained (USC Series Book #1)

chapter thirty-eight

SOMETHING GAINED
––––
AIDAN

The first time I experienced any kind of trouble or pain was when I was in fourth grade. I was about nine years old and my grandfather had just passed away. My family and I had little to do with him and I hadn't seen him in two years.

I wasn't my grandfather's biggest fan, but that didn't prevent the grief from finding a way into me.

That caused my father's addiction. Or that's what I believe.

Before his father's death, my dad wasn't a big drinker and only had the occasional drink, limiting himself, knowing that alcohol abuse runs in his very own blood. But I guess losing his father was the last straw for him, looking back now.

I try my best to avoid thinking about things to do with my father's addiction and all the things he did to me and my siblings whilst under the influence.

Sometimes, when I am feeling down—which seems to be right now—I remember the many times he picked me up from soccer practice, slurring his words and stumbling over his own feet. Or the times he drove recklessly through the quiet streets of my hometown in the late hours of the night.

However, I never thought I would witness this kind of grief firsthand unless I was the one experiencing it.

Rethinking that, though, makes me realise what a naïve thought that was.

But something I didn't think I would have to witness is the person I love most, going through this sort of grief and me feeling that same sorrow in a way.

It has been five days since the passing of her father, and I have only seen Brooklynn once since I dropped her back. After I told my roommates about Brooklynn's dad—with her permission, of course—Tyson took the responsibility of cooking her some food.

I admit, the time Tyson wasted whilst making a simple tomato soup was worrisome. Holden even offered to help, but Tyson insisted he was big enough of a man to do it himself.

That was the last I have seen of her. When I went to drop off the tomato soup.

Now, five days later, I sit in the stuffy auditorium listening to Professor Ackerman drone out useless bullshit, missing Brooklynn. It's the last week of school before winter break, and Brooklynn has attended none of her classes at all this week.

Not that I blame her. If I was in her position, I would do the same thing.

The tiny clock in the corner of my laptop screen taunts me. Reminds me of how little time has passed.

Typically, I would have someone to bother. Whether that be my old buddy I used to sit by or Brooklynn, but right now, I have neither. I am alone.

My fingers move quickly, copying out the notes that Ackerman keeps spitting out at lightning pace onto my laptop. I don't think my brain is currently in business, though. Half the shit she is spitting out is blurring together to create a mess of gibberish in my brain and all I can think about is how I haven't seen Brooklynn in a few days and if she is okay.

I focus my attention on the front of the lecture hall. Ackerman paces back and forth, flicking through a slideshow and giving a brief description and summary of the information on each slide.

Casting my gaze around the auditorium, I study my peers. Most people jot down notes as Professor Ackerman continues to speak. There is, however, a group of girls at the back of the room and as soon as I pay the smallest sliver of attention to them, I feel several pairs of eyes on me.

I swivel back to the front for just a moment before deciding. I am done with this bullshit. There are so many other places I would rather be and there is no use being here if I cannot focus and am not learning anything.