WEST COAST 18+

21.

W E S T C O A S T

Devastated wasn't even the word to describe how Vivian felt when Daniela talked to her. From fully being aware of everything now—Ashton stealing out of stores, getting into fights, spray painting school walls, asking about joining a gang, and stealing a duffle bag full of drugs—Vivian didn't know her son anymore, and neither did his father when the news was shared over the phone.

"I tried, but when she's mad, she only hears herself," Ashton mumbled through the mic in response to one of his friends who was telling him to beg for his mother's forgiveness.

His phone and Switch were taken away from him, but with his PlayStation tucked under his TV stand, Vivian missed it when confiscating his things.

"Georgie and I told you he was bad news," the mutual friend of the two said.

"Georgie said anything about me?" Ashton asks with concern. He tried reaching him through the game console, but Georgie ignored him.

"I can't snitch."

Ashton sighed, going to speak, but his bedroom door burst open. He went wide-eyed at his mother, Vivian extending her neck to see he was on the game. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

"Get off this damn game!" Vivian shouted, stomping over to him to snatch the controller. 

Ashton slowly removes the headphones. "My mom said I gotta get off—"

"My mom, nothing. Turn that shit off!" Turning around to yank cords from his TV. "You sneaking on the game after I told yo ass you were on punishment?"

"I'm sorry, ma-"

She aggressively wrapped the cords around her hand. "You've been sorry a lot, yet it don't mean shit when you knew you shouldn't have done the things you did." Vivian grabbed his second controller and the TV remote that he hid. "Your father is outside. Get to the living room."

Ashton expected his father to fly in. He was in trouble, and yelling over the phone wasn't predicted to be taken seriously. He dragged his feet to the living room, Vivian following him out as Daniela opened the door for their father.

Daniela was disappointed, not even beat for talking to him. He was someone else's problem—her parents, and she only stuck around to give the recap her father needed, leaning on the wall with crossed arms.

"Who's Enrique again?" their father asks, glancing around at them. It was so many names thrown around; he was mixing them up.

"That's who Ashton stole from. His family lives down the street," Daniela answers.

"And what is he going to do about Ashton?" He was worried because recalling what his ex-wife told him, Enrique wasn't your typical guy. It was alarming to hear the man he was.

Daniela responds, "Nothing because I'm handling it."

He stares confused, "Handling it? How?"

She didn't even know herself. "You don't need to worry about that."

"Well, from the things I heard your mother say, it seems like you might be getting yourself into trouble," her father states.

"I'm not," and glancing down at the time on her phone, "Look, I need to go, so call me if I need to plan his funeral," Daniela says before grabbing her handbag off the couch. If it was up to her, ass whoopin on top of ass whoopin. 

Their father faces Ashton, "How in the hell do you get yourself into this? Haven't we raised you right?"

"You did-"