Beer Bottles And Cigarettes

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

   When I wake up, I hear someone clattering around in Gerard’s kitchen. I slide off the couch and stumble into the kitchen where I see Gerard shuffling around, his hair messy and half his face red. I lean on the counter and rub my eyes. “Sir? What’re you doing?” I mumble, my voice slow and soft. I did just wake up. I don’t think he can blame me for being tired.

     He turns and looks at me. “Oh, Frank! Good, you’re awake. I’m making waffles!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together and digging the milk out of the fridge.

      “You mean the things burning on the stove?” I say, pointing at the stove where smoke is riding from the waffle maker.

       Mr Way spins around and yelps, ripping the cord from the wall. “Shit, shit, shit!” He yells, dumping the machine in the sink and stepping back. A look passes over his face and he sighs, crossing his arms. “Well...I guess we’re going out for breakfast.”

        I shake my head. “It’s fine, Mr Way. I’m not hungry.” I glance over my shoulder and see an empty bottle of vodka on the table. “Sir?”

        “Hm?” He hums, turning to face me.

       “Um...we’re you drinking last night?” I ask.

       His eyes flick to the bottle and a look of terror passes over his face. He lunges around me and grabs the bottle, knocking it over and watching as it falls and shatters to the ground. He sighs again. “I swear that wasn’t there when I woke up…” He says.

       “We’re you or weren’t you drinking last night?” I ask.

      He looks down, ashamed. “Haven’t you looked around, Frank? This place is a mess of boxes, bottles, and cigarette butts. I don’t know why I let you stay here but I shouldn’t have.” He shakes his head.

         I swallow and chew my bottom lip. “I should...go...For real this time.”

        His head jerks up. “Please don’t.”

       “Sir...It’s a weekday. It’s Friday. I need to get to school. Shit!” I sprint into the living room and search for yesterdays clothes. Without even thinking about Mr Way watching me, I strip to my boxers and get changed. I shove everything that’s mine into my bag and sling the bag over my shoulder, glancing at Mr Way. “Well, come on. You are my teacher.”

           He sprints into his bedroom and comes back dressed in black jeans, a white button up, black suspenders that are hanging off his shoulders, and a red tie. He grabs his own bag and runs out of the apartment, me following.

          We run down to the car and both of us get in. I realize what I’m going and stop. “No! I can’t…” I say, sliding out of the car.

          “Why not?” He asks.

           “Mr Way...if we’re seen coming in late to school together...People will suspect something.” I adjust my bag and nod. “Just...get to school.”

          “Frank…” He mumbles.

         “Go!” I yell, slamming the car door.

        The car peels out of the parking spot and he guns it down the road.

       I sigh and start my trek to school. I know the way pretty well from here considering Jensen lives around here. I pull my sweater closer around me and start jogging. I reach the school half an hour later and check in late, heading to my first class. The day passes relatively quickly and soon I’m in Mr Way’s class, sitting and finishing my drawing.