Part. 30

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A/N: Well, it is number 30 chapter! Meaning there is 6 chapters left. Hint hint hint drama coming! You excited? I hope you are.

Feedback is always welcome. Stay awesome.

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Next day

The school bathroom. Place where every students goes when they feel bad. I sat on the toilet cover, inside a locked booth. I had a small bag of cocaine in my hand. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think about it. In a quick movement, I took a dose and snorted it. I rubbed my face and bent over, accidentally hitting my head on the door.

"Ouch" I muttered and put the drugs back to my pocket. I stood up, holding the walls and took a deep breath. I walked out of the booth and saw a guy washing his hands.

It was Tomo. He looked at me and we made an eye contact, which was way too long for my liking.

"Your nose is bleeding" he muttered and turned his gaze away.

I looked to the mirror. He was right, I had a blood drop coming out of my nose. "Crap" I sighed. Damn drugs. I wiped it off and grabbed some paper, then washing my hands.

"Mike, uhh. I heard you were quitting drugs" Tomo said, drying his hands.

"Oh yeah?" I muttered, not looking at him.

"Dammit" he sighed. "Who am I gonna get my shit now?"

"I don't know. From 10th street?" I muttered and started drying my hands.

"No, too expensive" Tomo muttered.

I looked at him. "Why do you do them?"

"Is it your fucking business?"

I raised my hands in defense. "Sorry"

"You think Diego would sell?" Tomo asked.

"He doesn't do shitty junkies like you" I said. "He has bigger circles going on"

"He did it for you"

"We're family, it's different" I shrugged.

"And what's that like? Being in a junkie family? Diego, your dad, yourself. Soon Jason-"

I didn't want to hear him finish. I grabbed his shirt and threw him against the wall, pinning him tightly. "Shut the fuck up, or I will slit your throat"

"Big talk, Mike" he muttered.

"Motherfucker" I whispered and left the bathroom.



********** After school **************



I arrived home and saw dad sleeping on the couch. There was a empty whiskey bottle and way too many beer cans near him. Passed out, of course. I walked to Jason's room.

His back was towards me and he was reading a comic book. "Jason, how are you? I'm sorry I didn't come home last night"

"I'm fine. It's fine" he muttered.

"Jay?" I asked, getting worried. He always looks at me when he speaks to me and he never mutters, only when something is wrong. "What's going on?"

"Nothing"

"Look. At. Me" I said.

He slowly turned his head to look at me. Sadness and anger took over my body. He had a really bad bruise on his eye, spreading on his cheek. No fifth grader could leave a bruise like that.

I walked closer to him. I gently grabbed his cheeks and had a better look. "Did you... put ice on it?"

"Yeah" he said and flinched away from my touch.

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