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Richie Thursday, April 18
"You guys took your sweet ass time!" I hop into the cargo, squeezing in between Stan and Eddie, "I swear I was about to beat my dad to a fucking pulp."
Both Eddie and Stan scoff. I look at them both, confused, "What!?"
They look at me, both of their eyebrows raised, the truck starting off to Bills, "You always say that. But everytime you're the one the shows up at my house to clean you up, not your dad."
I shake my head, "Whatever." I know they're right I just wish they weren't.
I can beat up any boy in my grade and higher, but when it comes to my dad, I can't. I freeze up, and i'm scared. All he is, is a drunk bastard.
Someone nudges my shoulder. I look down, "What are you going to do about Breland? Are you still going to try with her? She's kinda weird, and damaged."
I raise my eyebrows, "What do you mean? Have you not noticed that, we're all are damaged, Eds."
He shrugs, "I don't know, she kinda exploded yesterday. Like big time exploded."
We hear a scoff, and both look to Stan, "She was just having a bad day, okay."
I looked at him intrigued, "What do you mean? How would you know?"
He crosses his arms, "Well it was obvious that she didn't want to hang out with people. And that she wasn't used to... well everything. Pushing her into something she wasn't comfortable with and not having a second to calm down can cause someone to go crazy."
I shake my head, not really caring, "I'm still going to try, you know I never back down from a challenge. I'll get this girl in my bed and to fall in love with me in no time."
Eddie laughs, "You got rejected so hard yesterday. It's obvious that she's not going to give you a chance." I cross my arms, a smirk on my face, "Oh, we'll see about that."
Bill Denbroughs' house
"God! What's taking him so long!" I push open the little window, squirming into the truck, "What are you-" I wrap my hands around the steering wheel steadying myself.
*Beep* *Beep*
"Come on! Let's go!" My hands push on the horn, trying to get Bill to hurry up.
I feel hands grip my shirt, "Get the fuck back here! Sit down!" Stan drags me back, causing me to hit my head on the top of the window. I rub my head, "Ow, fucker."
He rolls his eyes at me, crossing his arms. I stick my tongue out, but he pays no attention to me.
He never takes this long, he's usually dying to get out of his house. I wonder if he's okay?
