The Start Of A Good Thing (Book 1)

Chapter 3

During the middle of seventh period, Trevor was sitting in his desk paying zero attention to the teacher. Instead, he was trying to finish the masterpiece he’s been working on since sixth period. His uncompleted picture of his late mother lacked minor detail he has yet to draw. Still, the picture’s pretty nice he thought.

            Trevor gazed at the photo of his mother he used to help draw the portrait. It’s one of three pictures that remain of her. Although Trevor never met his her, he has always been interested in his mother. He only knew two things about her. One, she was more or less involved in prostitution; and two, she died birthing his sister and him. Information like that suggests negative intuition about her, but regardless, she will always be his mother.

            He set the photo aside and checked out the clock. Five more minutes until class ends. For the three classes he went to, school turned out to be pretty long and Trevor couldn’t wait for it to be over. He still wanted to work on the mural he started this morning.

            Trevor put his pencil down, leaning back in the desk with a blank expression on his face. His high from earlier clung to him by a thread; the drive to smoke gnawed at his soul. Trevor felt like this often, smoking means more to him than school, but that’s not really saying anything. Like the rest of his class, Trevor decided to pack his book bag before the bell rang. He was so ready to leave that he stared at the clock and counted down.

            “Three, two, one…” Trevor’s heart filled with relief once the bell sounded off. He flung his bag on his back, storming out of class. By the time he came to his locker, Thoro appeared out of nowhere. The two always met after school.

            “Aye Pyro!” Thoro shouted; Trevor dapped him up.

            “Yea what up?” he asked, guessing something’s up. Thoro seemed a little anxious.

            “Aint shit, what you bout to do dog?”

            “Head to the Pond,” Trevor lied, referring to his neighborhood. He didn’t feel like telling Thoro about his current project he wasn’t able to finish this morning.

            Thoro led Trevor through the thick crowd of students toward the front doors “Oh word, man I’m bout to meet yo brotha dog. Cuz said he got some work for me.”

            Trevor burst through the front doors, walking down the sidewalk with Thoro. “Where you meetin’ him at?”

            “Mickey-D’s,” Thoro answered. The two jogged across the street and walked half a block to a McDonalds were they met Trevor’s older half-brother, Heavy.

            Heavy leaned on his old school Chevrolet vehicle with one of his many different females. Heavy stood at 6 feet, had dark skin, and a mean scowl. He looked like an older version of Trevor. At 23-years-old, Heavy was the weight man in the their neighborhood Duck Pond. Any and everything that evolved drugs in Duck Pond had something to do Trevor’s brother.