blood (scomiche)

Chapter Five

A.K.

                       My mother stopped talking to me in 2015. I had just turned 20 when she called me on the phone. She had called me on her brand new iPhone and told me that she felt like I wasn't close to her anymore, and that it would best if she could go on without having to worry about her "son". Ever since then, she's never called me, never answered my calls, and has never spoken a work to me. I figured I had done something wrong, right? Anyone would. Then I called me dad, shocked that he had picked up the phone. He told me that he left the "bitter old hag" after she had told him that she wasn't interested in having an alcoholic son.

I didn't see the issue in cracking open a beer every now and then until I began drinking them every single day. It was addictive. I couldn't stop, but I also didn't care that much. The only issue I could find in it was waking up early the next morning hungover, and then having to go to work feeling sick. Principal Samuel hasn't noticed this pattern yet, and thank goodness he hasn't. My job is the only thing I have left, and a teacher's salary doesn't necessarily provide a lot of money anyway.

"Hey, Avi," Kirstie says. I was sipping on an innocent beer when she came sauntering into my classroom with a hand on her hip, the other holding her backpack in place.

"You can't call me that," I tell her. I've had this conversation far too many times with this girl. "It's Mr. Kaplan."

"Whatever," she says, brushing off the subject. "I need an extra worksheet for homework. I spilt water all over mine." I opened a drawer, trying to push the obvious beer on my desk out of her line of sight. During this process, I managed to knock it off of my desk, watching it spill all over the floor.

"Shit," I murmur, instantly grabbing the empty can and throwing it away. I grab the paper towels and throw it over top of the mess, taking the worksheet and handing it to Kirstie, keeping my head low to so she couldn't see the redness on my face.

"Avi-"

"Mr. Kaplan," I correct her.

"Mr. Kaplan...are you drinking?" She asks. I sigh.

"No, no, I'm not," I say, turning around and running a hand through my long hair. I closed my eyes for a few moments before turning back around. When I opened my eyes, Kirstie was standing in front of me with an empty Bud Light can.

"You just lied to me," she says. I take a deep breathe and grab the can from her, this time burying it in my garage can. "Why are you drinking right now?" She asks.

"Why aren't you at lunch?" I ask her. "Shouldn't you be eating?" I continue. She shakes her head.

"You know that you can't drink here, right?" She questions. I furrow my eyebrows towards.

"No shit, Sherlock," I say.

"You also can't cuss at your students," she smirks. My face was beyond red as the bell chimed. She turned to leave, but I quickly grabbed her elbow.

"You cant tell anybody what you just saw," I tell her. She chuckles.

"Your secret is safe with me, Avi," she says with a smirk.

"Mr. Kap-"

"Avi," she says firmly, strutting out of my classroom. I take a deep, long breathe. I quickly tied my hair into a bun behind my head and watched as teenagers filled my classroom.

I took a seat at my desk, now a little flustered, and waited for the second bell to ring that would indicate if students were late. After everyone was seated and the bell had rung, I attempted to start my lesson, trying to ignore my stuttering.