Milton : A BxB Story

3: Introductions

Chapter Three: Introductions

"Are you listening to me,  young man?!"

Reese grimaced. "Mom, I'm eighteen years old."

"You still live under our roof," his dad thundered. "If you get in any more fights at school, or if I hear about you getting rough at practice, you're done, mister! Done! You can kiss your hockey stick goodbye and get ready for a life pumping gas for a living!"

On the street in front of his house, the blue mustang revved sounding like a hundred growling wolves.

"No one does that anymore, old man. It's not a job."

"Old man! Old man!" His mom practically screeched, obviously unconcerned for the scene they were causing on their street. Some of their neighbors were watching, standing on their porch, not even trying to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping.

"I'm done with this. You win. I'll be a good widdle boy." Reese slouched away backwards, while his parents continued to yell. "We can finish this later. I have to go to school."

With a sigh he slid into Carson's passenger seat, and closed his eyes as the driver burned rubber, leaving his parents in the dust.

"I have a huge headache," Reese said through gritted teeth, holding his temples. "Can you turn down the music?"

He knew the answer before he even asked. So it didn't surprise him when the music got even louder.

How had everything spiraled so far out of control? He didn't even know why he said the things he did to his parents, purposely pushing every single one of their buttons. 

  They were never this ... dramatically angry either. When he went home and told them what happened on Friday's game, they were extremely unhappy, but there were no insults, no threats, no screaming. They'd grounded him and he'd accepted it. He might not have intentionally hurt that guy, but he did hurt him. There had to be some kind of consequence. Reese knew that. He'd even promised to be more careful and play the game because he loved it, not because he wanted to win.

This morning...all that logic and understanding disappeared. So fucking exhausting.

The window felt good against his cheek as the hockey captain tried to use mind over matter to tune out the noise. Nauseous and grim, Monday at high school seemed far less palatable than usual.

Carson was never much of a talker. When they got to the parking lot, they walked in silence, Reese replaying this morning's fight over and over again.

It was a sunny, beautiful day in Milton. The kind of day people dream about, the cusp of Autumn when the air feels different, the leaves are juuuust beginning to turn. The sky is blue, but not a summer blue. A rich blue. All the colors around, amplified.

But even though it was normally his favorite season, he just couldn't enjoy it. Nothing seemed good right about now.

Nothing.

"Talk about turning down the volume. Someone needs to take a sledgehammer to that sound system." Carson sneered. Reese followed his gaze, to some junior girl's car, blasting out that old Troye Sivan syrupy ballad.

You're my angel, angel baby

Angel, you're my angel baby

Baby, you're my angel, angel baby

Reese pretended to retch, only to freeze.