Drive || B.C ||

| two |

"This is the end" I whine dramatically, throwing myself onto the couch.

"You're so dramatic" Marco sneered as I sat on my laid out legs ", go smoke a cigarette or something."

Picking my head up to mug him before he pushes it back down.

With a groan, I watch Marco flick through the TV channels, landing on some grainy old school action movie.

The explosions and curses on the TV are accompanied by the cream of the door opening.

Walking through the kitchen and stomping his feet until he notices me on the couch, "Why is she here?" Quincy asked, in almost a whisper. A

s if I was asleep and he was afraid to wake me. "Seth locked her out again."

Sitting up at Marco's words of betrayal and embarrassment, Quincy passed me a greeting smile before the realization clicked into his.

Looking at me with furrowed brows and angry arms, "You let that fool-"

With a sigh, I pry my feet up from under my brother and force myself up.

Walking past my other brother and into the kitchen, letting his curses directed at my manager fall on empty ears.

Opening the fridge and dipping my head in, eyes glancing over the tasteful assortment of food until my eyes land on the blank brown glass bottles.

A quiet paddle of bare feet against tile accompanies me.

"Hey love" greeting my nephew, my hands reaching beside my initial target and grabbing two orange juices instead.

Stabbing the straw through the carton as I slowly slide against the cabinets to the cold tile floor.

"You never eat at our house" my nephew chimes, settling beside me.

"I eat with my eyes"

"Grandpa called you Flaca, what does that mean?"

"It means your dad needs to find you a new babysitter"

Accepting that answer, Milo sips his juice. His father and uncle are now yelling at their PlayStation in the other room.

"Are you staying with us again" "I can if you want" I answered Milo, my tone calm but flat.

Finishing the small juice and tossing it in the silver trash can before moving to stand up. Gripping at the cabinets as I whine at my sore muscles.

Milo scattered his feet beside me, "Daddy got me new markers."

Giving him a satisfactory enough awe, and gesturing for him to show me.

Settling back near his father's feet, crawling on his knees towards the TV stand where Madden is being frantically played.

Pulling out a gray tote box from the TV stands square caddies, revealing his many art supplies. Milo runs a hand through his shabby bowl cut as his hand rummages for his new marker set.

The clicking of controllers and the confusing tactics of fictional football entertain me for the moment.

Leaning against Quincy's knee as Milo seems to forget about me.

"What do yous wanna eat?" I chime in a few moments later, the growl of Milo's stomach on the floor catching my ear.

"I'm not cooking" was the first thing out of Marco's mouth that caused Quincy to look back at him, "like your ass ever cooks."

Going back to playing the game, Quincy puts his controller to the side and pulls out his phone.

I follow suit, pulling out my phone as I search for anywhere near that's open.

"Mom's out" Quincy blurts boredly, sitting doom scrolling.

Switching the game to something single player, Marco looks over at Quincy before going back to silently playing his game.

"Who told you that?" I chime in, toggling my phone settings and putting it on do-not-disturb.

"Jane texted"

"And she's trying to re-home that stray?"

"Don't talk about her like that" Marco chimes in.

"Once you have your own place and money to house her, then talk" I sneered, turning to face my brother.

"She's still your mom"

"You know exactly what the situation was"

Snatching the controller out of Marco's hand and changing the screen to some Cartoon that catches Milo's attention.

"Hey bud, you want Pizza" Quincy tries to catch his son's attention.

The boy quickly agrees, crawling over and resting beside me against his dad's legs. "I'll call it in," muttered. Beating Quincy to the phone.