The Boxer and the Blogger

Chapter Six: The Power of Poptarts

Chapter Six: The Power of Poptarts

TATUM

Oh. My. God." I whispered. "Travis is going to kill me!"

I glanced at Grayson, who was currently struggling to sit up on the couch in an upright position, and continued to frantically pace around the living room.

"Traaavis wooon't kill you!" He slurred.

My worried gaze turned hot with anger. "You're right, for once, Grayson." I hissed. "Travis won't kill me. He'll murder me, bring me back to life and then murder me again!" I shrieked.

Grayson just giggled and started to play an imaginary clarinet. "Looook, Matum, I'm Squidward!"

I smacked myself in the face and sighed. Everything started to go downhill when Grayson left the house to go "fight". Now if "fighting" means to "go get drunk out of your mind", then I guess he did go "fight".

I snapped out of my gaze when I heard Grayson sputter and cough. He held a miniature glass flask of bronze liquid.

"What the fudge! Where did you get that?!" I screamed.

He jumped and the flask crashed to carpet into five billion uneven shards. Don't even get me started on the urine-colored liquid that was starting to seep into the floor at a quick rate. That's going to leave a nasty stain.

"Please tell me this isn't happening!" I moaned. "I'm officially dead. I can see it now: Tatum Anne Johnson- a loving daughter, twin sister and dinosaur owner. She will be missed dearly.

Grayson lazily blinked his eyes. "Oops."

"Why, Grayson? Why are you doing this?!" I shrieked. "What exactly did you do?" I pleaded. "Because I know it wasn't fighting!"

"I intended to go fighting I really did but..." he started off.

My eyes widened because  I was finally getting somewhere. "But then what, Grayson?"

"I can't remember."

"Try harder and I'll" I looked around. "Give you a Poptart."

"I remember." He piped up.

I smirked. That's the power of Poptarts, baby!

GRAYSON (MEMORY)

"Dude, where have you been?! It's been, what? Six days?!"

I glanced around the crowded parking lot behind the abandoned gym. People cheered for the upcoming fights taking place tonight and big burly men placed their bets while smoking expensive cigars.

"I'm here now. That's all that matters."

Xander's eyes widened. "Like hell, Grayson! Boss almost killed me when you didn't show up for the last five fights. Like legitimately almost killed me!" He shuddered and then punched my arm. "I saved your sorry ass!"

I rolled my eyes and started taping up my hands.

"Where have you been anyways?"

I abruptly stopped. My arms tensed up and I was gripping the tape roll a little to tightly. "Places." I grumbled gruffly.

"Grayson, I've known you since the beginning of forver, therefore I know when your lying or telling me a half-ass truth. So where--" I cut him off with an icy look. He held his hands up. "Damn, man. I was just wondering!"

He got up and cracked his knuckles, and in a low voice mumbled, "Boss is gonna want details, ya know."

"Well you know what? Boss can kiss my fucking ass!" I shouted.

A few people looked my way, but quickly turned their attention to something else when they saw the look on  my face.

Xander ducked. "Grayson!" He hissed. "I'm not covering for your shit anymore when you decide you want to stop coming to the fights!" His face paled. "Damnit! I can't deal with that anymore!" He cracked his knuckles. "When you decided to not come to the last fights, I covered for you and told boss that you would be at the one tomorrow night. When you decided not to show up, boss sent them to collect. You know what they wanted to collect on?"

I stared at him expectantly,  dreading the answer.

He walked over to the side of the building, and slid down the brick wall. He buried his head in his hands. "My life, Grayson. They wanted my life! It was pure hell." He said dryly.

We just stared at eachother.

Someone's voice broke me out of the stare.

"Grayson! Xander!"I squinted at a girl who jogged up to us.

"Who the hell is this? Xander she better be with you. I don't have time to be protecting another girl!"

He sent me a side long glance. "What do you mean, another girl?"

I just  shook my head and focused back on the girl who was dressed in a pop star get up. Matum would of fucking laughed her butt off if she saw this!

"Names Kimmy." She purred. Or tried to purr. "There's a party on the Southside tonight. Y'all should come." She smiled seductively.

I gave Xander a pointed look. "Really? This is who you associate with when I'm gone?"

I turned around and started to leave. It was time for my  daily Poptarts, which I steal from Matum.

"Wait! There will be...uh...food!" She called out.

I kept on walking.

"And drinks!"

I slowed down. "Will there be Poptarts?"

"Uh...sure? Will you go?"

Hell yeah! Party where the Poptarts are! "Sure" I shrugged. "Why not."

***END OF GRAYSON MEMORY***

GRAYSON (PRESENT)

"I was preparing to go fight, a girl interupted me and wanted me to go to a party. She convinced me to do so by saying there would be Poptarts."

"Too late did I realize there were no fucking Poptarts at the party. I was already wasted." Self pity coated my words like a damn blanket.

"End of Story." I ended dryly.

That's all she needs to know.

TATUM

"You dumb-butt!" I yelled.

Grayson finished his story and seemed to sober up a lot. He was seeking a sympathy, with the closing paragraph of his story, that I was not willing to give.

"How could you be so...so...stupid in thinking that there would be Poptarts at that type of party!"

"Hey, you can't tell me what to do!"

"I'm not even telling you what to do!"

Grayson quickly stood up." You know what? I don't like your tone of voice, Matum!" He hissed.

"Well you know what? I don't give a single fudge!"

Grayson swayed to the side and his face turned a slight green color.

What the--

Green, brown, yellow, brown, brown, brown. Those were the colors that I saw as I looked down at my flannel pajama bottoms. I quickly snatched Mr. Dino from the coffee table and squeezed my eyes shut. focus on Mr. Dino, not the puke. Try not to murder Grayson.

I heard Grayson take a deep breath. he's definitely going to apologize. I can feel it.

"Like I said a long time ago. I. Do. What. I. Please."

I groaned I was wrong.

"Wait does your groaning mean I don't get the Poptart?"

Happy New Year. It's quite a late update, but nevertheless here it is. Did you like it? I don't know, you tell me.

Have a wonderful 2014 my fried chicken strips!