Intertwined

Chapter 8: The Gas station

Lucas's P.o.V.-

My court date is set for Saturday morning at nine thirty. Fan-fucking-tastic. I walked into biology on Tuesday and almost lost my shit. I made a smart remark to Mrs. Bradshaw and she gave me lunch detention which is exactly what I needed. The rest of the day flew by and now it is finally Friday. The first week of school is finally done with. I have to work a shift at the gas station later on tonight but I have time to make the first home soccer game. I try to stay out of trouble so I dont make matters worse for myself. Lunch is pretty bland in the cafeteria so I usually try to bring my own lunch. The final bell rings and I am home free. I run the speed limit back home. I see the trailer door is open and I know automatically that my dad is home. I walk in and find him shuffling through boxes with his back to me. All around me is broken liquor bottles and ripped paper.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I say infused with anger.

"Who the hell do you think your talking to?" He turns around, and says drunkingly.

"The guy who is supposed to be my father." I say with defeat.

"Whatever." He says while turning back around and continuing throw the boxes around.

I decide he isn't worth the time of day to argue with, so I rush to my room and throw on my favorite leather jacket with a white shirt and some matching black skinny jeans. I hurry out the door brushing past my so called dad as he mutters curse words under his breath. Before I get to the car I notice a person standing the shadows of the alley next to where I live. My buddy Wrighter comes out from the shadows.

"Wassup brother." he says while doing our handshake.

Seeing Wrighter always puts a smile on my face. He has always been there for me even whenever his parents divorced. He was my little brother from another mother you could say.

"Man long time no see, where have you been?" I ask.

"Not much of anywhere to be honest. My pops got evicted from the trailer park, so we moved in with some chick hes doing." Wrighter says.

"Dude you should've told me, you know you are always welcome to stay with me." I say.

"I dont wanna be a burden and I know your dad wouldn't be very happy about me staying." he says sadly.

"Well then, how's school?" I ask him; knowing that he just turned 15.

"I had to drop out. Although I can get my GED online one day..." he says trailing off topic.

"Well I have to get going." I say with a sigh knowing that if I stay with him any longer I will get dragged into some type of trouble.

"yeah.. nice seeing you man." He says sadly.

"same to you." I say.

I get in the Mustang and do a donut in the driveway before speeding away. I am careful not to run but 5 miles over the speed limit. I arrive at the game pretty early so I go to the concession stand and buy some Reese's cups with a Gatorade. I find a good seat in the stands towards the very back. All of the soccer players come out on the field to warm-up. As they do, people start piling in like herds of cattle. At my old highschool on the otherside of town things would never be this crowded, unless there was free drugs. Although despite the crowd I notice Anastasia of all people. Her bitchy attitude makes me some what dislike her but I cant help but wonder what makes her like that. But despite her attitude she is still one of the beautiful girls I have ever seen. The way her long brown hair flows behind her petite body is enchanting as is the way her golden brown eyes sparkle in the sunlight. One thing I have noticed in the few days I have seen her is the way she constantly looks over her shoulder as if she is being followed. She also has the tedency to clench her fists when put in a situation of confrontation such as the day she was knocked over. Ever since then I have taken notice to the little quirks about her when I got the chance. My eyes moved away from her and to the game which was pretty intense. We ended up kicking East Over High's ass, and with that I went to the gas station to work my 7 hour shift meaning I should be off around 2 a.m. Yay me! I think rolling my eyes.