Anastasia

T H R E E

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        I've struggled. You know?--As a kid, growing up without a mother had been hard. I thought I could get over her death. Over the asshole that killed her in his AI9 G-class Mercedes Benz. But, as it turns out, I was wrong. I didn't listen and cherish her genial words, nor did I the time that we had been allotted with her whilst she was still with us.

       And, they can say what they want. That I'm a spoiled, selfish, miscreant. Born to do nothing but drugs, shank girls, and repeat.

Repeat.

        Juvie was hard, but living with myself after what I did is harder. To know that, every single day, when I wake up in the morning, I'm a disappointment to my mother, to my family.

        Though, I often wonder as to what family I'm even talking about. They're practically nonexistent. Mother's dead, father's an alcoholic, and my older brother Max is in college. So what then? Where's the household gathering every Tuesday evening for family night? Where's the squad circle around the warm cozy fire on Christmas eve as we sit around drinking eggnog?

        It's bullshit.

         I've never had any of those things, and I never will. But that's okay. Life is a neverending game of cat and mouse. You chase your tail, and chase it, and chase it. You'll chase it all the way until it's captured--There it resides, limp, in your small paws. Yours for the taking.

        Or so you fucking think.

         That is until the haggard feline next door comes trotting out on all fours, foaming at the mouth. You watch helplessly as the cat snatches it right from you. And you curse--You curse up a storm until you finally realize that no amount of whining and screaming can or will ever get you back what you've lost.

        Well, that's how it usually goes, anyway. But that kind of shit is not for me. I've taken control of my life and asserted my dominance. No one will take what's mine from me, ever. Period.

        Coming out of my thoughts, I looked up to see Colton staring at me. It is very likely that he had thought I'd spaced out again--And he's not wrong, like, at all. "You good, bud'?" I remember him asking, as I had anticipated.

   "Yeah, I'm fine." I responded, looking to my left before continuing on, "Just got a lot on my mind is all." He nodded, and I could see from out the corner of my eye.

   "C'mon though, man." To my recollection, he stated this pleadingly. "Please try and enjoy Olivia's party." I, as one could typically expect, rolled my eyes at this.

   "No, dude. This party sucks ass."

   "Then go get some." I distinctly remember raising an eyebrow questioningly at this. "Seriously? It's been a hot minute since you-"

        Now, for the highlight of my night, before Colton could finish, a sweet voice had parted his words. "Excuse me?" She said timidly. I knew who it was--but had not immediately turned to look at her, not wanting anyone to think I'm desperate. Cuz' that's just fucking embarrassing.

        I had seen that Colton has turned to face her, but stood still, resting on the kitchen island next to the beer container with my arms folded across my chest.

        'This had better look as cool as I'm telling myself it sounds'--I vaguely recall thinking.

   "What's the matter, honey?" I had seen her nose scrunch at his question. Honey? --Who did Colton think he was?