That night, my dad didn’t get home until late again, and of course, he was funk. He hadn’t said anything to me that morning during his hangover. I pitied my poor sister who he had tricked into making him eggs.
I was doing homework at the dining room table when he walked in. He dropped hit keys on the floor once again. He came over to me and pulled me out of me seat.
"I was thinking about what you said last night," He spat in my face. "And I have come to a conclusion that you are never allowed to speak to me like that again."
I was angry now, he was getting me fired up again, but this time, no mercy.
I pushed him off me. sending him flying across the room. He got up and smacked me across the face again. I punched him, a little blood dripped out of his mouth from it. And then, he kicked me where no man should ever be kicked.
He looked down at me, there was no doubt in my mind that he was satisfied.
I grabbed his legs, pulling him down to the floor. I started crawling towards the door, I needed to get out. He got up and sat on me, then banged my head once on the floor. I pushed him off and ran unsteadily for the door, then took off, running down the street away from the house.
I had no idea where to go. i couldn’t go to Elle’s, because that would just be bizarre. I couldn’t go back home for obvious reasons, but I could always go to Luke’s.
I walked there slowly, the less time I had to be home, the better. My head hurt a little from the hit on the floor, and I wondered about the possible concussion I could have.
I had no desire to be with my dad, even though I did feel a little bit bad about leaving him with my siblings.
Luke was on the second floor, so I shimmied up the drain pipe and pulled myself up onto the roof in front of his window. I tapped on it.
I saw a light switch on inside and then he pulled aside the curtain. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants. he opened the window. “Ashton, what’s going on?” He wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"I can’t go home," I said. "This is the only place I could think of going. I would’ve gone to Michael or Calum’s but they’re both too far."
He took a step back, “Come on in. We’ll make some hot chocolate or something.”
Luke made the most elaborate hot chocolates I had ever seen, and they were the absolute best. It had cinnamon sprinkled on he top with a big drop of whipped cream. His mom had taught him, and I always remembered him making them for us after she did. Luke just knew how to add his own pizazz.
We sat at the kitchen table with our mugs. Luke’s family was very wealthy and had a very nice house, unlike my house. I told Luke about everything that had been happening at home with my family. He listened well, only talking when he should.
It was nice to actually be heard for once. I left around five that morning to go back home and give Luke and hour or two of sleep before he had to get up for school. I avoided my dad all morning and left the house without a word.
I hated him.
