Red Flags

Introduction

Ticking faintly the clock droned under the voice of superiority. Words slithered through one ear and out the other, familiarity drawing attention. "Ken..." A nasally voice called out, agitation rumbling in the vocal chords, strained like a squealing dog. "Kennedy" Mrs.Fleming repeated. "Kenny, The answer is Natural selection." He says. He never once looked up, he continued shading aimlessly on the border of an assignment.

Mrs.Fleming's cheeks flourished like a blooming rose, startled by the coolness in the student's voice, her skin producing hills that rose higher than his peers pimples on her arms. Moments later the bell rattled and rang, people hurriedly scooting out the door before she could utter another word. In Saint Joseph High school cliques ruled the corridors of lockers, the cliche jocks, valley girls, whores and nerds, you name it the school had it. The perimeter of the school was half the size of a football field and always carried the essence of a tattered novel, that had been read too much. The school crawled with ignorance and bible thumped hearts, be kind to thy neighbor crap didn't exist here, nor did the locker six six six or room thirteen.

Chapter 1

A deep exhale left Kenny's thin lips, the door clicking shut behind him.

"How was your day at school?" The iconic peppy voice of a mother with the trailing underlying disinterest of a reflection of her own desire for what was on her mind. Turning the conversation naturally. "Hey Mom, How was your day?" Kenny knew the protocol like the back of his hand, he knew his mother's disinterest in his life. In the drop of a dime Lauren chimed in, her mask falling as her voice wavered with distress. "I am just not sure if I like him, you know the guy Andrew I went on a date with." Recapping the story he had heard before. "It's just he complains all the time, it's like he never has anything nice to say! Am I wrong for saying that?" The irony was unbelievable yet Kennedy nodded. "No, you're not wrong for saying that." He knew if he said what she wanted to hear she wouldn't drag the conversation out much further.

Lauren was a single mother, her face young yet drained from her nightly binge drinking. Kennedy was a product of unprotected sex with a scum bag, he didn't know much about his father except that he was an opium addict and as soon as he found out he impregnated a college student he hightailed and disappeared from the face of the earth. Kenny never had a father figure, he used to think about what the other half of him was like. He often found himself envying the suburban family but those thoughts of envy were long gone, he had accepted his situation. His mother Lauren saw men on the weekly but none survived long with her, she was flawed, broken and pacified herself with a bottle. The apparent loneliness rested in her hazel blurred eyes with shadow casted eyelids that represented the cloud that always seemed to follow her.

"You always know what to say, make any friends today?" Her quivering lips spreading into a smile.

"Mhm.. I didn't get to talk to anyone today." He said

"Well you know the boy across the street is a freshman this year and he seems very nice and I think you should talk to him." Her back turning on him as she rummaged through the fridge, checking the expiration date of the milk. "I'll make cookies for you to go over and give to him, how's that sound sweetie?" the carton of milk rattling in her hands, the faded date reading 3/15/89 , tomorrow's date. It always seemed like Lauren never learned how to be a parent, how Kenny survived infancy was beyond him especially with the faint memory of the playground. The memory rolling the broken film, replaying and skipping like a broken record, the playing of images, the slide, the yelling, the darkness. The film in his emerald eyes vanished, the life flooding back as he reemerged into reality.

She hummed old show tunes, Lauren often found herself worrying about her son, Kenny, he never went to parties, had parties, hung out with friends, she couldn't even remember the last time he had someone over.. She shoved the deformed mounds of slop on the ding into the oven, the aroma of sugar filling the room, nostalgia of what home was supposed to be. Her motherly thoughts faded as she poured herself a hard drink, sucking it down faster than she poured it. Lethargy washing over her like a warm blanket. From a young age as long as Kenny could remember, his mother would have fainting fits, anytime she pour herself a clear glass of what reeked of Windex, she would be out cold in minutes.