Black Smoke

Destination Sanity.

-7:30 a.m.- Monday

Walking to school was the usual. According to my dad, it was only about two miles away from home, so it wasn't that far. I stepped out of my apartment into the humid air, not caring about locking the door behind me since he'd forget he even asked me to last night. Stupid drunk.

I slipped into my favorite maroon and black striped hoodie which somewhat matched my black pants and Converse. I pulled my hood over halfway which kept some air in from making my thick hair stand up all over the place.

"Ah! Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" Dante spoke softly as I reached ground level next to the parking lot. "I've been waiting all morning for you! What? Did you not hear your alarm go off? Or did you just forget to set it?"

Dante Trixton.

He wasn't exactly my brother, although that would've been what I'd preferred him to be. He grew up with me before my mom left in our old apartment complex. Considering he didn't mind the constant arguing and screaming my parents usually did 24/7, we became close. When we were little, we used to play games like cops and robbers, tag, hide and seek- you know, the usual. Eventually, after my mother left, we became brothers. Dad was always out drinking and being stupid, and Dante would come up to my house and keep me company. Sometimes my dad wouldn't even return at all, so I'd sleep over at his house. His parents didn't mind. They were understanding and knew not to interfere with my business if they didn't want to put themselves in the middle of it.

He was a senior just like me, and he knew when to stick up for himself. Six feet tall and 186 pounds of pure muscle. At least, that's what he'd tell everyone, although he says he only works out when no one is around so he wouldn't be judged. His slick, gel-filled hair would be flattened forward and curled back. He always wore a thin hoodie, and sometimes a leather jacket. Denim jeans, never shorts unless he was laid back at home, and combat boots. What was unique about him was that he always wore a biker's glove on his left hand. He gave me the matching right-handed one when we became friends (Although they were huge on us at the time) and ever since then, we'd worn them when we went to school.

Dante was the opposite of me, and I guess that's why we were so close. Sometimes when he'd lose it, he'd have to have a great reason. He was somewhat like me; he didn't care much about anything, but that's what made him fun to hang with. I remember just last week this kid was getting picked on during school. Dante and I didn't tolerate bullies. He went and gave them a sip of their own medicine. When the victim thanked him, Dante shrugged off his praise and simply told him, "I didn't do it for you. I hate bullies. Try to not get shoved in a trash can again. I might seriously hurt someone next time." I had no idea if he had a personal experience with being bullied or something, but that was a major tick-off for him.

He never really believed in relationships either. His first two were screw-ups, and he felt he'd always get played in the end. Girls would try to talk to him, and he'd get defensive at first. He told me personally that he wasn't gonna look until he knew he'd get over the fear of not getting played for a third time.
He never really liked school either. During the summer, he'd go to sleep at four or five in the morning and wake up around the same time in the afternoon. Of course, getting used to the routine, he hated having to crash early and wake up early at the same time five times a week, not to mention his parents were Sunday people, so he'd have to crash early Saturday night and wake up early Sunday. The only time we'd ever hang out outside of school was Friday nights.
You'd figure we'd hang out so much people thought we were gay, but you'd probably get socked in the mouth if you weren't a girl by him anyway.

Anyway, besides the fact that his dad always told him to catch the bus three blocks down for school every morning, he liked to stroll with me instead. I don't know, something about being protective since he was only a couple of days older than me. Don't ask me, it was just something personal for him I guess.