For Love Or For Lust

Chapter 10: Patheticly Dinger(part2of2)

Dinger's POV:

"Uhhhh, what the hell happened last night", I groaned. There I was lying in my bathtub. Nursing a serious crick in my neck, from the uncomfortable position I had slept in last night.

And that's when I seen the empty bottle of vodka, "holy shit I got boozed up"! My stomach started to do cart wheels, making me feel real sick. So at 7:30 in the morning, on a Monday I was busy puking up my guts.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when I was finished. After that I brushed my teeth, moussed my hair, and threw on some acid washed skinny jeans. Grabbing the scissors and putting randomly placed cuts in my jeans, and black "Run DMC" band t-shirt. Then I slipped on my white/silver Nike's(air force 1s), next I threw on my ride or die army jacket.

I walked out my bedroom door and tripped, which reminded me that I had forgotten my cane. After I had gotten my cane, I limped down the stairs as silently as possible. Trying not to alert my ma I was up and leaving.

"Dinger come here for a minute", my ma slurred. Great she's drunk, "make it quick ma, I don't wanna be late". Of course I didn't actually give a shit less if I was late, I just didn't wanna talk to my drunk mother.

She tossed me my court black/gold sunglasses, that I've been looking for forever. I caught them, and kissed her on the cheek, "thanks ma..........".

"I love you Dinger", my ma said. Opening the front door, and looking back at her, "love you back". I hadn't told her that in years.

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Bobby usually sits next to me in every class that we have together(3), and the same thing for Bam(we have 5). But for some odd and unknown reason, the both of them decided to freeze me out. And by freeze me out I mean really freeze me out, why, I'll never know.

At least until one of them decides to tell me what's up. But considering the fact that I've been passing notes to them all class period, to try and figure out why they're mad at me. And they still continue to rip them up, they won't be budging any time soon.

"Mr. Holfield, sunglasses are against school rules", Mr. Bentucker droned. As if he had just noticed I had been wearing them all class period.
"Yes, this is true, but you see Tuck, the lights just seem to be too florescent today. I have a very bad migraine sir", I told him, making a few of my classmates laugh. I really was telling him the truth, just in a tone that I knew would immediately piss him off.

"Take them off, or go see the principle, maybe you should make better choices next time". This pissed me off quite a bit, I hadn't even disrupted his class(as much as usual), and then he goes and states the obvious fact that I was nursing a hang over.

"I guess I'll just go pay the principle a visit Tucker". Then I got up and limped dramatically slow to the door saying, "oh and Tucker, maybe next time you'll make a better choice and close your fly. Because trust me no one wants to see what don't got pal". The whole class erupted in laughter, Mr. Bentucker's face went red, as he spun around to close his fly in private. But it was already too late, to say the least.

I don't know how long I sat in that damb office chair. Getting my ass chewed out by Mrs. Jones(but for some reason she just let's me call her by her real name-probably because she knows she's the only authority  I respect). And no, it's not because she's the principal. I could give a shit less about that, it's simply because she treats me nicely.

"Understand Candance that not everyone can be perfect like Mr. Bentucker, especially me", I told her matter-of-factally. She chuckled and told me to take off my shades, and let her see my eyes.

Once I had taken them off, she gasped at how blood shot my eyes were. "I'm sick Candance, real sick", which was the truth enough. "Dinger you care about your life, yes"?

I had to give that question some serious thought. "Yeah yes-to a certain extent. I just wanna make it better that's all", I replied, looking at the clock.

"Well then you should probably start doing that Dinger", she said to me, sounding like a mother-not my mother, just a mother.

"I'm working on it alright", then I stormed out. But not before she said, "no you're wanting to work on it, there's a difference". And she was right.