Leave Me At the Doorstep

Chpt.7: Like Father, Like Son (Avery's POV)

Chapter 7

Like Father, Like Son

   Avery’s POV

    After Jackson walks me home I feel kind of awkward. He acted funny. The way he followed me into the house, the way he said bye. He seemed in a daze, like he was in the wake of something mesmerising. As though he couldn’t keep his eyes off of something…

    NO! NO WAY!

    I make my way to the kitchen for a snack, but can’t find anything decent. I eventually find some old carrot sticks in the fridge next to 5 bottles of beer. I hate carrots. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers so I eat a few and leave the rest for later.

    After my snack, I go upstairs to my room to do homework. Darn. Mr. Johnson’s science assignment sucks, well, in my mind.

Dear 7th grade students of Mr. Johnson’s 9:30 science class,

This week’s homework assignments are:

DUE JANUARY 17TH. Please create a mini paper about your favorite chemical reaction. Include ingredients and tools needed, directions, and an in depth explanation and exploration of what happens, how, and why. For bonus points present this on a trifold or other creative presentational tool.

DUE JANUARY 21TH. Please create an essay about 3 different elements of the Periodic Table. Include at least 3 characteristics of each. You must have at least 3 sources. There is no way to earn bonus points for this assignment.

I don’t continue because I flip out after reading about the second homework assignment. How am I supposed to find 3 SOURCES?!?!?!?!? I lay on my bed for about half an hour pondering what available sources I have. We don’t have internet access and I don’t think it would be reasonable to leave the house to go to the library, just in case Dad comes home and thinks that I ran off or something. Julian’s room! Even though he might look like a rebellious kid that knows the way to the principal’s office like the back of his hand, my brother is a total brainiac and collects (more so stockpiles) tons of textbooks in his room.

“Julian?” I whisper turning the handle on his door slowly. He hates when I just walk in without warning him.

    There’s no answer so I push the door open and creep over to Julian’s bookshelf. Funny. His room looks unusually disheveled. We might live in a shack, but Julian always keeps his room spotless. I shrug it off and start searching through his bookshelf. Another unusual thing. The books aren’t in order. Julian always has his books alphabetized. I like that. When I need something from him or need to put back something I borrowed, I can easily do so. But today is different. His books by Suzanne Collins are next to The Harry Potter series on the third shelf. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is on the fifth shelf and Falling Up by Shel Silverstein is at the very top. I shrug that off too. I finally find a book I could use and sit down, my back against Julian’s bed as I open it and start to read. I take notes and get plenty of information but still move on to the next book. I pull All You Ever Needed to Know About The Periodic Table off of the shelf. A third weird thing. The books table of contents is ripped out. Julian would never do this to a book. He loves books. He’s a total bookworm! I flip to a page that’s still in tact and start reading. Soon, I’m just repeating words off of a page, not actually listening to myself. After a while, I just drift off to sleep.

“Hey, get out!” A deep gruff voice booms.

“I’m tired, Dad,” I say groggily.

“Dad?” The voice suddenly turns light and hearty as its owner laughs. I know only one person with a laugh like that.

“Julian? Did you just get here?” I say, shocked.

“Yeah, but seriously get out.” Julian’s words are all slurred together and he literally drags me to the door. “Give me that book.” He snatches the book from my hands when I’m halfway out the door.

“I need that, Julian. For school!”

“Its not yours.”

“Julie, come on,” I plead, referring to him by my old name for him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Julie, Julie, Julie,” I singsong. He usually laughs and gives in to whatever it is that I want when I do this.

“Stop it!”

“Julie, Julie,”

“I said STOP!” I see his hand fly to the door and the next thing I know, there’s a bloodcurdling pain shooting through my hand.

He slammed door on it. Why would he do that? He’s always so sweet, so caring. Julian yanks the door back open and yells, “You’ll think twice before you do that again.” I snatch my hand out of the doorway before he closes it again. Something’s wrong. His eyes were bloodshot and he waked funny. And not just the fact that I can barely feel my hand. I notice that it’s 1:30 in the morning. I almost got a full nights sleep! Dad hasn’t come home yet so I ignore my natural instinct, to head to my room and lean the heaviest things I can find up against the door. I head downstairs for another snack, the leftover carrots that I left from earlier.

Strange thing number four. There’s only one beer bottle left next to the carrots. It doesn’t take me long to put the two together.

Like father, like son.