Tweaker

vi. hidden in the window

vi. hidden in the window

 

     SHORTLY AFTER I had Finn laid down and asleep, a car pulled into the driveway.  I rushed to the back door and waved him to pull his car all the way into the back, parking next to the garage instead of in front, since my father’s car would block him in if Preston wasn’t gone by the time he got off work.  Sighing, I walked down the steps once he was parked and wrapped crossed my arms across my chest, getting a chill as my eyes connected with Preston’s.  He was standing tall, about seven inches above my short height of five feet, half an inch.  He was about the same height as Finn; around five eight, with about the same build, just a little more buff.

     “Hey,” he breathed out, staring at the house instead of me.  I didn’t say any kind of greeting back; I just turned my head towards the back door and watched it as I explained what I needed him to do while I ran to Finn’s.

     “I need to head out to Finn’s place, check out his bedroom and a couple other places on the way.  He seems like he’ll be out for awhile.  How’s Benji?”  I asked, changing the subject for a moment so I could gather my thoughts on my own while listening to him talk about a relatively similar subject.

     His eyes connected with mine, again, then.  They were pained and his voice cracked as he spoke, “He’s rough . . . but a lot better than he was this morning around four when I ran into him and Finn together.  How’s his nose?  Well . . .  I guess I should just ask how he’s doing in general, but did I break it?”

     “That was you?”

     “I had no other choice, Greyson.  He was high out of his mind, okay?”  He defensively snapped, causing me to raise my eyebrows slightly, “I’m not even kidding.  He was talking about some kind of prophecy or whatever and Benji had his arms out like he was holding some kind of ball.  It freaked me out and when he saw me, he went off on how I needed to stay away from the pentagon and I told him to calm down.  He swung at me, so I clocked him.”

     “Did he cash out after that?”

     “I didn’t know I hit him that hard,” Preston said, sighing and running a hand through his short hair.  “I honestly didn’t mean to hurt him . . . or leave him.  I tried to call but it said that I was out of service.  I didn’t have any bars.”

     “It’s alright,” I said, sighing, “He’s fine.”

     “Good,” he breathed out, nodding his head.

     “So . . . yeah, if you could just chill out here for awhile, that would be great.  I don’t want to leave him home and then have my parents show up or anything.  They already have a problem with him; I don’t want them knowing he’s strung out until he’s sober.  I don’t know what I’m going to do but I figure I should tell his folks he’s going to be staying with me for awhile,” I explained, turning my head back to watch the back door.

     “You’re going to what?”  Preston asked.

     “Well, he needs somewhere to go where someone actually gives a fuck about him.  It’s not like I can stay at his house; his mom would slit my throat in my sleep,” I snapped back, causing him to groan.

     “Yeah, well . . .  He can’t stay here.  He’ll go mad.”

     It was then that I realized he was right, causing me to groan.  After a moment of silence, I asked, “What do you suggest we do then?”

     “I don’t know,” he said, looking down at me through a pitiful grimace.  “I’ll make a few calls and see what I can do, though . . .  I’ll figure something out, alright?”