Black Smoke

Homemade Incidents

-10:50 a.m.-  Saturday. Home.

The next few days weren't just counted down as days I had to keep waking up early. There were days counted down until I could graduate. Until the final step to complete freedom came into view. Looking at my grades online, at least I cared half enough to do my work. The lowest grade I had was a 75 on the dot. Well, a 75 in five out of eight classes. P.E., Forensic Science, and Office Aid all seemed to be up in the nineties which I was okay with.

As I scrolled down the school website looking at the lunch menu for next week, I kept peeking back to see if Dad had woken up. If it was anything like his nightly ritual, he'd take two sixteen-ounce can beers into his room along with this week's newspaper and fall asleep whenever. I never really saw him on weekends, but when I did, he'd usually wake up in a bad mood.

After I checked out the rest of the website, I walked back to my room and shut the door behind me. If I liked anything better than being alone, it was listening to the radio of today's hits with my window open, letting that warm breeze fill my room and give me comfort. However, the room quickly grew cold as my door was nearly knocked down when my dad came in, one of his beers in his hand.

"Zayden," He slurred. "What're you doin' here? You got school, boy."

"It's the weekend," I simply answered. "Usually at this time of the week, kids take a break from learning useless information that they'll forget in life and chill."

He grumbled from a burp. "Don't get smart wit' me."

"Isn't that why I'm going to school in the first place?'

His eyes grew big as he chucked the can. I ducked quick enough for the can to hit the wall behind me.

"What the hell?!"

"Better watch yourself, son. You know how my temper is." He turned around to head back to his room but stopped. "I'm going to the supermarket. I'll be right back."

"Yeah, sure you are," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" He asked quickly, his eyebrows furrowed.

My brain jolted. "I said Okay, have fun."

He looked at me for a good four seconds before grunting and closing my door. Hard.

I shook my head at where he stood when he threw the can and then behind me to where the can lay. At least it was empty.

"Damn drunk."

I picked it up off my bed and went to my bathroom to throw it away. I grabbed a towel and wiped the bits of beer drops off my wall or else it'd probably stain. I had to deal with this almost every Saturday morning. Sunday I wouldn't see him until the afternoon, which allowed Dante to come over whenever around this time.
And, on cue, Dante's knock sounded at the front door.

I walked over, peeking outside the window to make sure the truck was gone, and then opened the door, letting him in.

"Yo, Zay!" He shut the door behind him. "Got any food?"

I gestured toward the fridge. "Help yourself, man. I think just the bottom shelf though. Dad went and bought four cases last night."

"Sweet. Thanks."

I headed for the living room, flopping on the couch and turning on the T.V., flipping through political debates, kid shows, and Dad's favorite, NASCAR. I kept flipping through the channels until I came across some weird black-and-white show. Since nothing was on, I left it on there and switched my glance over to Dante.

"Parents?"

"Mom had to work an extra shift tonight. She just left not too long ago. Dad had an emergency at work, so he stayed." He said this while ripping open a fruit cup. I never really liked them that much. The syrup just didn't sit right with me.

"I getcha. Dad went out. He probably won't be back until tomorrow morning."

"How is the old drunk anyway?"

I rolled my eyes. "Worse. I found some drips of blood in the sink last night. He did a lot of coughing, so there's no surprise he's getting worse."

"Dude, why don't you just make him quit?" He walked into the living room and sat on one of the recliners across from me.

"Me?" I asked, shocked. "You think he's gonna listen to me? He can't stand the sight of me, Dante. You know that."

"Yeah, when he's drunk!" He had a good point there.

"Come on. Let's go toss those cans over the rail."

I stopped him. "You know he'll have a fit. Trying to get me killed? He loves his beer more than me!"

"Then let's make it look like you were robbed! We can wreck the place, come over to my house, and wait for him to get home."

"And the point of all of this is to make me clean up after our own mess?"

"How long has he gone without drinking?"

I thought about it. "Fifteen minutes. The most."

His eyes went wide for a second. "My point exactly. No beer, no getting drunk. Let's see what you're dad looks like when he's sober."

"He's a maniac, Dante. You know it. I know it. Your own parents know it. We're not doing this. Let's just get out of here."

"And go where?" He asked. Just then, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and read a text, chuckling a bit before replying.

"Who's that?"

"Vanessa. I got her number this past Friday."

My heart sort of sank. "Really? I got a ride from her to my house. She wanted to come in and hang for a bit-" I began to realize how jealous I sounded. "But I told her no. Especially since Dad was here. She doesn't need to see that."

His face looked at his phone, and then back up at me. "Bro!" His face lit up. "I just had an idea! How about you can hang out with her at my place? My parents aren't home! I'll tell her to come over!"

My face went red. "What? Are you nuts?" I snatched his phone from him. "That's completely the opposite of what I want!"

He snatched his phone back from me and winked. "Are you sure about that? Let's put the pieces together. She's a female. Right?"

I looked at him dumbfounded but decided to play his little game. "Yes, Dante, she is."

"And you're a guy, right?"

"Last time I took a shower, I checked myself."

He grabbed my shoulder. "Every guy's dream is to be alone with a girl! The male's counterpart. You say this is the opposite of what you want, but come on! When was the last time you ever had a decent conversation with a girl, and by conversation, I mean unlike how you've treated Vanessa so far."

"She's annoying!"

 "She's just all talk. It bugs me! And the way she looks at me? Those beaming eyes like she knows everything about me when she doesn't!" My mind began to twist and turn. "And that stupid smile! I mean I like it and all, but can she not? It's on my mind all the damn time and I can't get it out!" I ran my hands through my hair. "How can someone so freaking gorgeous and sweet be such a damn bother?"

My eyes widened after realizing what I had just said. "Which is the reason why I just texted her."
I'll admit, he got me on that one.

"Go get ready, bus boy. You got a date tonight."