Watch Your Temper

Chapter Five: Graffiti

        There were a lot of things I would rather have been doing at that moment.

But no.

I was on my way to Mr. Gary Dubois' house at 1:30 in the afternoon. Yes, Mr. Dubois was Amber Dubois' father. She was the smart-ass that persuaded me into stealing those cheap earrings. I hated her with pure passion. Pure passion indeed.

But Mr. Dubois was also my dad's best friend. I was hoping to get as much information about Jonathan Adagio as possible. I wasn't exactly nervous-- I just wasn't too eager to see Amber. Plus, a lazy Saturday afternoon obviously meant she would have her crew over. Oh, lovely. It looked like everything was working in my benefit today.

I looked down at the crinkled paper in my hand, and glanced up at the street sign that loomed before me. Yup, this was it. I'd only been to Amber's house once, despite our parents being friends, and it was just for some stupid party that ended up getting busted by the cops. I made my way up the street, coming to a stop in front of your average residential nightmare. I walked briskly up the steep driveway, hopped up the porch, and knocked three times on the tall oak door.

There was silence, then some yelling, and finally footsteps. The door swung open, revealing an over-excited Mr. Dubois. His face scrunched up in a smile, and he spoke to me.

"Ahh, hello Temper! It's been a while since you've been over," he boomed. "How are you?"

I muttered through the expected pleasantries before getting to the point.

"Is Amber home?"

"Yup! She's in the basement with some friends. Come on in! I'm sure she'll be glad to see you," he bellowed.

I took a shaky breath. "Okay. And Mr. D-- I know this is random, but have you heard anything from my father lately? I was hoping you could give me his whereabouts, maybe, or a phone number where I can reach him," I explained slowly.

He looked a little taken aback, but quickly regained his composure.

"Um, I'm a little busy with some paperwork right now, but Amber can probably keep you entertained until I'm done," he replied. Before I could respond, he ushered me downstairs and shut the door behind me. I looked around, to find smoke filling the room. Great. I was trapped with a pack of deluded druggies.

Somewhere beyond the thick haze, I saw several people sprawled on the couch and floor, puffing on bongs and joints and whatever-the-hell else. I seriously didn't want to be there, and I was positive Mr. D. had no clue his daughter and her friends were getting high.

Why had I even hung around with this crowd, in the first place? I was just as stupid as they were. At least I hadn't tried anything before, drug-wise.

"Oh, look who showed up!" a deep voice exclaimed.

I shifted my posture uncomfortably.

"Is that Temper? Hey, bitch!" Amber chimed in. I coughed.

"What? The smoke too much?" the previous voice taunted, noticing my disgusted expression. I recognized him immediately.

"Shut up, Duck," I growled. I coughed again and flailed about, trying to clear away the smell of the marijuana.

I could vaguely see her friends-- Joy, Duck, Mitch, Xander, and Amber herself. It was awkward: the guys were all big and muscular, while us three girls were petite and pretty. Well, I was, anyway. The effects of drugs had set in on the other girls. They looked as gross as they were.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Come here, babe," Xander offered sleazily. I chose to ignore him and turned to Amber and Joy. Xander was always an asshole.