Teenage Troubles (Prequel for Teenage Baby)

Chapter 20 | Aaron

Chapter 20 | Aaron

Aaron's sixteenth birthday was a few days away. For pre-celebration, because his life was totally luxurious like that, his father had ordered him to clean up the kitchen.

He placed the plates in the sink and turned to the table again. There was a cup filled barely quarter-way with remaining beer, or whiskey, or whatever his father had been drinking.

Aaron had never been an advocate of liquors. But now, staring at the yellowish liquid trapped in glass, he wondered what it tasted like.

He picked the cup and took the tiniest sip. His face scrunched like he'd tasted shit and he quickly turned and hunched over the sink, spitting it all out again. If it at least tasted good, it'd possibly be worth destroying his kidney.

"I saw that."

Aaron froze. Then turned. Then smiled innocently. "That I'm cleaning up? Yeah, you told me to do that."

David stepped in, movements languid even though he wasn't drunk. He raised a brow. "No, I saw you taking a sip. What's it taste like?"

"Not that great."

"I agree. Do you know why I still drink that?"

The answer clicked too easily: so he'd be drunk and forget about everything. Aaron wanted that too but he never turned to alcoholism. "Yeah."

"Oh, you do." When there was no further answer, David took a hasty breath and sat on a chair, pulling another one out. "Come witness it for yourself and tell me if you blame me for it."

Aaron didn't want to. He'd only wanted a taste of it to extinguish his curiosity but he wasn't looking to becoming an addict.

"I said come here, Aaron. Let me show you why I like drinking."

Aaron walked there and sat, fiddling his fingers anxiously in his lap. His father had put two cups on the table and a bottle of whiskey.

David started pouring the liquid in, glancing at Aaron through the corner of his eyes. "Relax," he drawled, smirking. "Nothing to be scared of. One time won't hurt."

Aaron only listened to the sound of the whiskey hitting glass. His heart pounded. David pushed one glass closer to Aaron's side and picked his own. "Come on, drink it. And don't stop until it's finished."

Aaron knew things would get messy if he didn't. So he did. He brought the glass to his lips and took a swig, eyes squeezed shut. But he couldn't last too long. Not even half the cup done with and he had to put it down, panting at the burn in his throat. Then, he started choking.

David laughed and patted him once on the back. "You can't even drink it right."

When Aaron recovered from the coughing-fit, he quickly finished the glass and leant back in his seat, chest heaving, eyes still narrowed at the aftertaste. "I did it," he breathed. "Now please let me go."

David's grin was connivance itself. He filled Aaron's cup again. "Not yet. I said I want you to understand why I like getting drunk."

"I understand, I swear. Because you want to forget that you have a son like me—"

"Shut up and drink."