Kings and a Queen

Part Three: Draco's P.O.V.

     "Shit, I'm gonna be late," I groaned when I looked at the time.
     My boss would kill me if I was late again, but I didn't exactly want to go to work in my school clothes. I sighed, pulling out my phone to text my boss and started my truck.
     "Hey, sorry, gonna be late. Had a detention."
     I pulled out of the school parking lot and drove home as quickly as possible. When I got there, my mom's car was in the driveway, meaning she had gotten off work early. Which also meant she knew about the detention, and I would get lectured, making me even later for work. Cussing under my breath, I killed the engine.
     "Draco, please explain to me why I got a call from the school saying you had a detention today," she said as I walked in.
     Now, I'm not normally scared of my mom - or anyone for that matter, but when she's pissed off, she's fucking scary. And she was beyond pissed off.
     "Oh... well... um..."
     "Save it. You're gonna be late for work. Go." She motioned towards the stairs leading to the basement, where my room was.
     I nodded, not wanting to piss her off even more.
     When I got to my room, I checked my phone to see a text from my boss.
     "Okay. This is your last warning though. If you're late one more time, you're done."
     I threw my phone onto my bed, walking towards my closet. I changed into the coveralls I wore for work, then grabbed my phone and headed back upstairs.
     "Mom, I'm leaving for work!" I yelled when I got to the door.
     "Okay. Come straight home afterwards!"
     Fuck. It was never good when she said that.
     When I got in my truck, I turned the radio up as loud as it would go, leaning my head back against the seat. I sighed quietly, shaking my head, and pulled out of the driveway.
     About 20 minutes later, I pulled into my parking space and cut the engine.
     When I walked in, I breathed in a sigh of relief. It was strange, but I for some reason felt more at home. Sure, I was at a garage run by a 40-year-old man who had graduated from high school when he was 20, but it felt like home. The noise, the lights, the seemingly endless chaos. It was all comforting.
     "Hey, Pretty Boy!"
     I shook my head at the nickname, walking in the direction it came from.
     "The fuck do you want, Markson?" I laughed, shoving her.
     Leila Markson was one of the three girls who worked at the garage, and she was the only one not related to the owner. And she was the one who had given me the nickname "Pretty Boy."
     "Well, Pretty Boy, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later. Me and some of the guys were gonna go get pizza or something. You in?" she explained, turning back to the car she was working on.
     "First of all, stop calling me Pretty Boy." I grinned. "Second, I can't. Mom said I have to go straight home after work. Which is never a good thing."
     "Okay, Pretty Boy."
     I sighed, flipping her off and walking towards my bosses office. 
     "Hey, just figured I'd let you know I'm here. I'm really sorry I was late again. I swear it won't happen again." I said, sticking my head in the door.
     "Good. Because if it does, you're done. And I mean it this time. Got it?"
     "Yes sir."
     After work, I drove home as slowly as possible, really not wanting to deal with the wrath of my mother. Don't get me wrong,  I love my momma, but she has a tendency to take things a little too far.

AN: Heyyy, ya girl is back. After damn near a year. Sorry