I'm Fine

Chapter Twenty Three - Dalton

March

Nico was sweet to offer to give me a ride, but I didn't feel like someone's burden tonight. As I turned onto the first street a mile down the road, I heard a car pull up behind me with music blaring through the speakers.

"Whoa, if it isn't my brother." I heard from behind me. I pulled my hood down and turned my attention to the bright headlights behind me, trying to make out who was talking to me. As the car slowly rolled to a stop next to me, I saw exactly who it was...Lonny.

"Hey man, nice game tonight." I lied, hoping he would just leave me alone.

"Yeah, I rocked some super serious points tonight." Lonny lied.

I tried so hard not to laugh, but he was nowhere near making any of the points. If anything, Lonny weighed the team down drastically. Also, doesn't he know I was at the game and that I saw what happened? Just then, I see him lift a bottle to his lips.

"Lonny, you're not supposed to drink and drive." I tried to joke but also hint at some seriousness. This situation wasn't the first time I've seen him drink and drive.

"Oh, don't even act like you are so innocent. We've broken many laws together." He hissed as he threw back another chug of his whiskey. He was right. I definitely have done things I shouldn't have.

"Listen, dude; you wanna hang tonight?" He asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

My first instinct is to say 'no'. Of course, I didn't want to get in the car with someone who was drinking and driving. But I also loved causing chaos with him. There was always this adrenaline rush that I couldn't find anywhere else, and honestly, I just wanted to feel something tonight.

"Yeah, I can hang, but I'm driving." I replied. Lonny gave me a smirk before taking another sip of his liquor. Without hesitation, he began to drunkenly climb to the other side of the car instead of getting out and walking around. I climbed into the car and took off.

"So, what's the plan?" I began, curious as to what drunken-thought Lonny had tonight.

"I've got some spray paint in the back." He slurred as he analyzed how much he had already drunk from his bottle.

"What are we vandalizing this time?" I questioned, a little hesitant to spray paint something again. Lonny always brings out too many cans, and I worry that if we get caught, we would leave cans behind with our DNA on it, then we'd be screwed.

"Man, why you always use those terms, they're so official." He whined as he stuck his hand out the window, letting his hand glide on the flowing night air.

"I'm sorry, what terms am I supposed to use?" I teased, as I watched his child-like behavior.

"We're creating art." He said drunkenly as he tossed his whiskey in the back seat and grabbed a beer to enjoy the rest of our ride.

"Dude really?" I mocked. "Plus, I have never heard you care so much about art." I joked back.

"Getting adopted changed that in me." He commented.

This time, he went too far. He knows how touchy that subject is for someone in the foster system. He especially knows because he was there, right there with me for an entire year. I will never understand how he got adopted before me, but what gets me the most is that he is wasting his adoption to get away with more things instead of trying to create a new life for himself. Like I would...if I ever got adopted.

"Yo, I'm sorry, that was harsh." He struggled with his words; it seemed like he genuinely felt terrible.

I didn't know if it was the alcohol or if deep down, he cared about me. "How's the new house?" He tried to save the conversation, I get that, but the foster house was the last thing I wanted to talk about tonight.