Grey Gods

Chapter Two - Belonging

Angel:

Oh Dios mío.

My fucking head hurts.

The sun falls over the back of the house and shines right through my balcony windows, or more accurately, right into my eyeballs.

I pull the blankets over my head and try to go back to sleep. At least until it's dark. I know I'll feel better by then, especially after a shower and a blunt.

My throat is so dry, but I don't feel like getting up. No, I just wanna lay here.

Just as I'm about to doze off, I hear an obnoxious stampede coming up the stairs towards my bedroom, and I groan under the blanket. Is it four o'clock already? Looks like I won't be sleeping in after all.

Gabriella, mi hermana pequeña blasts through my bedroom door and pulls my sheet right off me.

"Angel! You're still asleep!?"

"I was." I grind out and shield my face from the sun like a light sensitive demon withering towards the dark side of the room.

"Don't ever wake me like that again. I sleep naked, you just caught me on a weird day."

"Ew, shut up. I'm just making sure you're alive in here."

"Shut the curtains, por favor." I practically beg her.

"Aquí." She hands me a glass of ice water and three Tylenols, and in the process of sitting up, I clumsily spill a little water on my sheets.

"Mamá hizo enchiladas."

I throw back the pills and the water, feeling queasy afterwards. I let out a ragged cough, my entire focus on keeping the water down and not throwing up.

My sister slides onto the foot of the bed and kicks her feet back and forth. She's seen me hungover every morning since I've been back home. I can tell by her eyes that she doesn't judge me like my parents do. Probably because I've been gone for so long, she's just happy to have me around regardless of the things I've done.

I got out of prison last week. I served eleven months, and now I'm back like I never left. My business is picking up again, and I'm drinking enough to make up for all the lost time. I can't stop or else I'll feel everything I've been running from.

I'm aware this was my problem before I got locked up, but what can I say? It's hard to break the cycle of drinking, fucking girls and making money when it's the only thing that makes this miserable life of mine endurable.

"How was school?" I ask, reaching over to my bedside table for my mason jar. I pull out a crystally nug and break it up on my rolling tray, wary of my overly curious sister watching me, but oh well. She's old enough that I can't really hide shit from her anymore, so I don't try. She's a good kid. I trust her not to do drugs, but if she does, she better not let me catch her.

"School was fine. Rebecca got her second holes pierced. I really want mine done. Could you take me to the mall?"

I split my Swisher, remove the guts, pack it fat and roll it.

"Not tonight. I've got things to do." The disappointed look on her face makes me add,

"I'll take you next week, alright?"

"When?"

"I don't know. Whenever you want?"

"Martes."

"Tuesday. Fine." I mutter with the blunt between my lips, lighting aflame the end with my vintage spade lighter.

"The new tenant came by. She's very pretty."

I get my blunt going and exhale a cloud of smoke. Weed is my ultimate cure, instantly lightening the pain throbbing behind my eyes. I'm always high. From the time I wake up, to the time I go to sleep.

"You think everyone is pretty." I roll my eyes.

"So what? She is!"

"Te creo." I hit my blunt and rest my back against the headboard. "When's she move in?"

"Tomorrow morning. Maybe she'll take me to the mall."

"Don't go buggin' strangers, hermana. I'll take you to the damn mall. Just wear your hair down afterwards so mom doesn't see your ears."

I wink at her, and she cackles her weirdly contagious laugh, causing me to laugh. I muster up the strength to get my ass out of bed and kick her out.

"Get out so I can shower."

I lock my bedroom door and smoke the rest of my blunt out on the balcony. The urge to throw up goes away when I start washing my hair. I want to start drinking now, but I never do business fucked up.

I'm not that stupid.

I turn off the water and get dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt. In the kitchen, I scarf down three beef and cheese enchiladas and rehydrate myself, my body thankful for it. I text back my brothers and a couple girls from last night.

I don't remember much from Saint's party, but from my DM's, my impression couldn't have been that bad. Then again, it's not hard for me to get any chica I want. It would almost be boring if it wasn't so convenient. I'm determined to sleep with as many girls as possible to forget all the nights I spent alone in a cell with all my regrets.

I rinse my plate off, put it in the dishwasher and talk to mi mamá until I hear the bikes. I kiss her on top of her head, and head into the garage.

Lighting a cigarette, I grab my leather jacket and helmet and open the garage door. No matter how unimportant or depressed I feel, I'm part of something that's thicker than blood. I'm trusted, vital to the operation of things.

With cut sleeves and bold white stitching, Grey Gods adorns my back like full metal armor, and I wear it proudly. It's the only thing I'm worth.