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"What about my car?" Rocco asked as Krist drove him home. His dad hadn't said a single word to him other than "Get in the damn car, Rocco," and Rocco couldn't be for certain he wasn't about to be slaughtered.

The question had set off a complete explosion from his father.

"Your car? Your fucking car? That's what you're worried about? Bro, you are fucking lucky I don't tell your grandpa to take that fucking thing back and sell it," he shouted, "And to be honest, I'm thinking about that because...boy you have fucking done it big time.

"Bro, disappointed don't even fucking begin to explain how I feel about you right now. I feel like I've been lenient and reasonable with you and letting you make your own mistakes. I didn't trip when you and your lil girlfriend had sex, I let you drink, I let you smoke and all I asked is you kept it at that. Didn't I tell you that if you fucked around with anything fucking else we were gonna have issues? Especially that shit!"

Rocco had his eyes closed, trying to tune him out.

"I asked you a damn question, I know your ass ain't tired," Krist said.

Rocco could feel his father's eyes icy and cold on him. The truth was Rocco didn't want to look at him, he knew he fucked up royally, and now all the trust he had worked so hard to earn was gone.

Krist clicked his tongue against his teeth, "You ain't gonna answer, fucking whatever bro. Ain't no sense in saying shit because everything I ever tried to teach you just goes in one ear and out the other. I'm gonna tell you now, you keep this fucking shit up and once you're eighteen, I ain't gonna keep you under my roof," he paused to glance at his son for some sort of reaction, blurting out, "Shit, I really should just send your fucking ass to live with my mom, let her deal with you."

As soon as the words escaped from his lips, Krist immediately regretted them. He knew he would never send Rocco away over something like that. Even if he preached to parents about setting those firm boundaries, he didn't know if he had it in him to enforce them in his own life. He'd been sent off like an inconvenience and it had taught him not a damn thing. If anything, the hurt and resentment he felt were channeled into his drug use.

But fuck man, what the hell was Rocco thinking? He knew first fucking hand what that particular drug had done to people in their lives, Krist included.

The fear of Rocco going down that path only made him want to tighten the leash on him, become more strict, more up his ass all day long. He shouldn't have been so damn lenient all the time. He shouldn't have tried to be a "cool dad".

Krist couldn't even look at him. He felt completely disgusted.

****

"You won't tell Mom, will you?" Rocco pleaded as they pulled into the driveway.

Krist spit out the side of his mouth, "Of course, I'm going to tell her. You don't get to do stupid shit and not face the fucking music, Rocco. It's not like you frigging pissed your pants at school or something."

Rocco glanced at him meekly, picking at his cuticles.

"Go shower and go lay down. I don't even want to look at you right now," Krist told him bitterly.

Head hung, he did as instructed, not replying to his mom or siblings as he climbed the steps towards his bedroom.

Rocco didn't check his phone until after he'd showered and was lying in bed in fresh sweatpants. Despite being clean, hygienically clean, he felt oily and sweaty, and gross. And he didn't even feel high no more just achy and awake.

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