Portrait of a Bad Boy ✓

Chapter 14: Not Alone

The detention ticket burned against his back pocket. As he drew closer to Lyla's locket, he closed his eyes and prepared for the lecture he was sure he was going to hear. It's just a week. That's all.

"Hey," her smile dissipated. "What's wrong?"

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the detention ticket. "I can't take you home this week."

Lyla folded her arms. "What did you do?"

"I fell asleep in math...again." At Lyla's raised eyebrow, he grabbed her hands and pressed a soft kiss against them. "I know. I know you're upset but I've got a good reason. Remember the project I have in art right now?"

"Yeah, the one with Molly right?"

"Well, the winner gets to have their painting shown to the school." He squeezed her hand. "This could be a small break for me, Lyla. This could really prove to myself that I have what it takes."

"Then who's going to take me home?"

"Neil can."

"Neil?" Her nose wrinkled

"Yes, Neil." He squeezed her hand. "I know you don't like him but I trust Neil. Who knows maybe we can even go as a group to the fair, he likes to ride the rides just as much as you do."

Lyla hesitated before she pulled her hands free. "I know. It's just...you've been spending all this time on your project with Molly. I just...worry about you."

"You don't need to worry about me." He pressed another kiss to her hands. "Now, you should get going before-"

"I see the two love birds are still here." Neil's words earn a glare from Lyla. "Are you ready to go, little bookworm?"

"Don't call me that."

"Neil."

"What?" He raised his hands. "She's the one with her nose in the books."

"Well, maybe if you spend some time reading, you'll learn a thing or two."

"Alright, you two I would like to not get two weeks of detention. Neil, don't tease her and I need to get going." Leaning down, he claimed her lips in a quick kiss. "I love you."

"Excuse me while I gagged."

Rolling his eyes at that, Blake nodded toward Neil. "I owe you big time. Keep her safe or else."

"I can take care of myself Blake." Lyla rolled her eyes before she pulled him down for one last quick kiss. "Love you," she whispered, before she started toward the car with Neil.

****

"Maria, I'm home!" Closing the door behind him, Blake waited. "Maria!" He yelled. The house was silent. No smells of cooking, no music, nothing but staggering silence. Maria? He headed to the kitchen where its emptiness greeted him. "Maria?" He frowned. Did she not come in today?

"Maria?"

"I fired her." Blake's gaze snapped to his father. Closing the fridge, his gaze met Blake. "And starting tomorrow, I want you to come into the office with me. You're going to start helping out around the building even if I have to drag you in."

What? Blake shivered, as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. "I..I don't...I don't understand."

"You know I ran into an old work buddy of mine today. He has a son around your age and he was just telling me how his Stanford acceptance letter came in months ago." At his father's sharp glare, Blake's heart dropped.

"But I'm like, that can't be. After all, my son would have told me if he got into Stanford. So, I made a little call to a friend there. He was able to look up all the applications that were sent in. and your name never came up. We argued, because clearly my son would not have lied to me about this one thing."

"I...I didn't apply." Blake swallowed. "I want to go to art school. Wait, dad listen-" He watched his father pinch his nose. "I know it might not sound the best-"

"The best? The best?" his father hissed. "My son decides not to go to Stanford because he wants to spend his time painting and drawing on paper all day. Artists are just lazy people, Blake and I will not have my son throw it all away for some stupid pen and paper."

"It's not your life!" Blake countered. "It's my life dad."

"And it's my house, my money, my food that you eat and my clothes that you're wearing." He stepped forward. "And if you know what's good for you then you should keep your mouth shut. All your little art supplies and paintings have been dumped into the trash."

"What? No! I paid for those things! I paid for all of that! You have no-"

"And I'm your father!"

"You're not a father." Venom and hatred dripped from his voice."You're just a cheating alcoholic." His father glared back at him. "If that's how you feel, then get out of my house." Blake stepped back. "What?"

"Get out. You're no son of mine."

Blake grimace. The words shouldn't have hurt as much and yet, as Blake headed up to gather his things, each step was like a dagger to his heart. As he headed to the door with his full backpack, he waited.

When his father didn't call him back, Blake headed out. He wasn't sure where he was going to go and or even do. His backpack was a weight pressing on his back and his heart as he reached the bride.

Leaning against the edge, he found himself staring at the river rushing down below. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wooden railing. He was suddenly so exhausted.

"You alright?"

He opened his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack. "Gum?"

Blake merely glanced at the box. "Nicotine gum?"

"I'm trying to quit smoking. My new job is pretty tough on the idea and I really do like the pay." Blake's eyebrows furrowed before he took a piece of gum. Popping it in his mouth, he chewed until a familiar tingling coated his tongue.

"So." He turned to him. "What's wrong?"

"I told you I'm fine." Blake remarked.

"And I've known you long enough to know you're not." Neil sighed. "I know your angry-"

"I'm not angry." Blake shook his head. "Not anymore." He nodded toward the river. "I knew we were drifting away. We both should have ended it long before." Watching Neil unwrap his own piece, he turned back to the river below.

"So, you want to tell me why you have your backpack?"

"Dad found out about Stanford and kicked me out."

"Today?"

At Blake's nod, he whistled. "Oh, man I knew he would be mad but not enough to kick you out."

"It's fine. If I sell enough I might be able to afford a night at a motel."

"Yeah, that's not happening." Neil nudged him. "Grab your stuff, you're staying at my place." Blake shook his head. "No, Neil thanks man but I'm not some charity case."

"I didn't say you were not did I?" Neil folded his arms. "You're my best friend and if you needed the clothes off my back you know I would give them to you." Blake's jaw clenched as he turned away from Neil's gaze. "I...don't know."

"Stop it." Neil snapped. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"This." He gestured to him. "Pushing back. You always do it whenever you think someone sees you as weak."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do and I should know. Why else do you think we've been friends this long?" Blake's hands clenched the railing until his knuckles were white. Focusing on chewing the gum, his gaze watched the moving river below.

Finally after a moment of silence, he met Neil's gaze. "Fine, but I'm paying my share of the rent."

Neil wrapped his arm around him. "Of course you are."