Style - SBF

Chapter 2

That night after dinner, Stan sat alone in his room  trying his hardest not to cry while his parents bickered about something downstairs.  Their arguing was pretty normal for them, Stan had learned.

They argued about the bills, the tv, the car, the food... basically nothing ever changed.

Stan would try to take his mind off of their fights by drinking. Some days, he got drunk enough to forget the whole thing. Unfortunately,  it had been happening more frequently lately

"Fuck... " He muttered  as he reached under his bed for one of the bottles.   He took three pills and chugged it. It tasted bitter.  He swallowed another handful of the pills, hoping that they would take the edge off. Nothing works though.

Stan put the bottle on the desk, then he flopped back onto his bed.  It wouldn't change anything anyways. He was already miserable. No point in making himself sick over it. He sighed. He didn't want to deal with this shit right now anyways.

Slowly, his eyelids felt heavier and heavier. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness. 

—

The morning sun streamed through the windows of Stan's bedroom. The light caught and reflected on the walls and his old posters and vinlys. Stanley stared at his ceiling blankly. 

All he wanted to do was sleep and forget how shitty things were at home. But he couldn't. He got ready for school.  His mother was already cooking breakfast before he left the house. Stan got into his  truck and started driving. 

Stan pulled into the parking lot of school and headed straight to his locker but someone beat him too it.  It was Kyle.

"Hey...dude" Kyle muttered.    Stan didn't reply.  Instead, he unlocked his locker and began stuffing books into his backpack.

"What do you want, Kyle" Stan finally spoke. He slammed his locker closed, turning to face Kyle.

"We need to talk"

"No we don't"

Even though it seemed like Stan didn't want to be around and speak to Kyle, he really wanted to be around him again. He wanted to talk about things and laugh about their interests. He really missed Kyle.

"Stan... " Kyle said softly, almost inaudibly. Stan looked up at him.  He looked concerned and sad.

"Kyle...  I don't want to talk right now. Can we please just leave it alone."

"But.." Kyle paused. He didn't know how to convince Stan. "Look I know that we don't really talk anymore and it probably sucks  but I miss hanging out with you. And it seems like  your ignoring me,  so why can't you stop acting like a dickhead and just talk to me?" Kyle said, frustrated.

He felt like his patience was wearing thin. He needed to understand Stan, and they needed to move past whatever was bothering them. It was starting to get ridiculous. This was the longest Kyle had gone without talking to Stan.

"Dude, please"  Kyle begged.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Just drop it, Kyle" Then he walked past Kyle.

Kyle looked longingly at Stan . He wanted to follow him,  to talk to him, to apologize, but he knew that would never happen. Stan didn't want to listen to him so he figured  that he had better not push it.

Maybe once the tension between them was gone, they would start hanging out more or something, he hoped.