Clocks in Railway Stations

Caution: Sharp

Ashton's POV

So, I'm dumb. My dad's strict, and my butt is sore enough.

But despite this, the look of awe on my friends' faces ought to outweigh the look my dad's gonna have when he finds out.

Right?

We're in the woods behind my house, all sitting on various levels of the big oak tree when I pull out my secret weapon.

"Hey guys, look what I've got!"

Brandon and Dylan look up at me from the roots they're leaning against, Austin looks across from where he's sitting next to me on one of the lower branches and Jack looks over from the huge rock he's sitting on a few feet away

I hold up the small pocket knife, watching the spotless blade glint in the August sunlight.

Dylan gasps as he recognizes the distinctive black handle, which is patterned with grinning skulls and a small signature embossed on the left side

"NRM"

Nicholas Ryan Madison. My dad.

"Ashton! Why do you have Dad's knife?! We're not allowed to even touch it!"

Shit. If he knows I've stolen this before Dad finds out, he's gonna have a breakdown. And Dad will just have to look at him, and he'll fold. Lie.

"Uhhhh, Dad... let me borrow it, y'know, in case we uh, got our clothes caught...like, on the branches or something, yeah," I stutter out.
Smooth, Ash. Real smooth.

"Really? Well, I'm the oldest. You think he'd give it to me since I'm more responsible, " he bites back.

"Yeah, well, he gave it to me because I asked him. And he said he trusted me because.....well, uh-"

Damn it. I've never been good at lying to my twin brother.

"OK, I maybe snuck into his room last night and 'borrowed' it," I say, making air quotes, "but you can not tell him."

Dylan gasps again. I can see his mind working and imagining all the different ways Dad could react to this one.

"Dude, Ash, your dad is going to lose his shit. He might actually kill you, " Austin says, but he sounds impressed rather than fearful

"Yeah, dude, what flowers do you want on your casket?" Jack asks, grinning. Okay, he's going to take the piss tomorrow when I can't sit still in math class.

Brandon chips in with a trembling. "You stole from your dad, man. You're going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble. " I think he's more scared than me!

"Never mind that, you guys. How many times do you think I can flip this?"

Dylan immediately looks alarmed and scrambles to safety beside Jack, away from the tree. I mean, he's overreacting, but he was sitting directly below me.

The rest of our friends chip in with various shouts and guesses

"30" Thanks, Brandon. The man believes in me. Respect.

"15" Austin is more pragmatic, but it's a fair guess.

"-1" Jack calls over. At my curious look, he explains, "You're going to drop it."

"Will not!"

"I'll bet on it. Dylan, I'll bet you $5 he drops it, "

"Whatever. Bro, what do you think?"

"I think you're being stupid, and someone will get hurt. But if you're dead set on making Jude my only little brother, because Dad IS going to kill you, then I'm taking Jack's bet" he says, huffing and pulling a bill out of his pocket, throwing it down on the dry leaves. Jack smiles, pulling out his wallet.