Project D.U.D.E

Prologue

PROLOGUE

I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t.

I was just sick and tired of all their screaming; that’s all. I was upset.

The night before my brothers left for whatever sports camp they were going to, Mom and Papa were yelling at each other. Again. And it had gotten old. So, I went outside, opened up Josh’s rusty old station wagon, and climbed into the back. It wasn’t the first time I fell asleep in the back of my older brother’s car, but it was the first time that I woke up somewhere else.

Just, my, luck.

I stared into Josh’s dark eyes as he stared into mine. Riley, our more charming and cheery younger brother, had run off to make friends right before I even opened my unaware eyes and realized where I was. It was just Josh and me. Judging each other. Fun, fun, fun...

Josh’s hand was still on the hood as he stared at me, and I hadn’t moved from my partially propped-up position. This had become more and more typical of us lately, this staring contest of ours. Eventually, one of us would blink. And today, that person was Josh.

“What the hell, Luce?” he asked, his smooth voice more upset with me than I thought I deserved.

My mouth formed an irritated frown, and I pulled myself up all the way and shifted my body, letting my legs hang over his rusted bumper as he let go of his creaky hood. If you think your car is old, you should take a look at my brother’s. The amazing part is that it actually still works; the car may be from the 70’s, but that doesn’t mean the parts gotta be. Still not sure how it all works out.

The stale smell of the car was starting to stick to me. “Me?” I asked, both of us glaring at the other with as much bitterness as raw cocoa beans, “Why couldn’t you check the trunk before you left?” He knew I sometimes slept in the back of his car, especially when I was feeling a desperate need to get the hell away from my family.

“How could you sleep through that whole ride? Have you not heard how loud my engine is?” Josh asked, his voice rising just a fraction, as if that would help him win this argument. Yeah, okay, I'll admit, his engine is pretty loud. Even I’m not sure how I managed to sleep through it.

“Yeah, well, compared to our parents, your engine is about as loud as a mouse.” I spat the words venomously. It was true, though, and my brother knew that. He gave up, tousling his short, wavy brown hair with a sigh.

Josh was older than me, but we were born in the same year. Our mom got pregnant again just about right after she gave birth to him, so we were in the same grade, my brother and me...

We fought way too much, lately. Our arguments were never long, and most of the time they weren’t that heated, but they happened a lot.

When Josh looked up at the canopy above us to calm himself and think, my mouth softened, and my vexation was replaced with a  hollowing sadness, the kind you get when you’ve done something you wish you hadn’t. I got that feeling just about every damn day now.

To sum up the situation for you: our parents were getting a divorce.

That’s the summation of things, but if you wanted to go into details, I’d tell you about how we’re the only kids in the world who can hear the words: “It’s not your fault,” and know in all our hearts and souls that it’s not true. I’d tell you about how Josh and I screwed it all up, each in our own ways. I’d tell you about how we kept pushing things, because we thought no matter how much we pushed, things wouldn’t break. I’d tell you about how we were too stubborn to admit it was our own faults, and blamed each other. I’d tell you about how it caused us to drift apart…