Do What the Bad Boy Says

Chapter 3

We were inside their house now. It was on the other side of town in the neighbourhood my mother had made me avoid while growing up. It was rampant with too much gang activity according to her. Though all I'd see on the way over was a few Christmas decorations left out from the holidays and some broken blinds in a few windows. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

The door opened before we were even off of the bikes to reveal a kid I recognized from high school. He looked a miniature version of Felix, just slightly less carefree as his face was scrunched up in what was either an expression of fear or pain. He was playing with the strings on his hoodie as he walked up to Felix and muttered something under his breath. That was Frankie Agromasia.

"What?" Felix held his brother at arms length, suddenly looking him over before grabbing his chin to inspect the black eye that was forming. "How long ago?"

"What?" Kit growled, embarrassingly lifting me up to help me off the bike. "What happened to your face, Frankie?"

"Nothing." He blurted before getting popped in the mouth by his older brother.

"Aye!" He growled, nearly shoving his brother before complying after seeing the look of Felix's face. "Those college townies showed up in school today. Came in with the rest of the gang for the fight I guess and they stopped by during lunch. Felix, vete a la mierda!"

His voice was suddenly snippy when he switched over to Spanish. Felix smacked the back of his head before telling him something else in Spanish again, clearly the two were not trying to embarrass each other while speaking the other language. Frankie glared at his brother while rubbing the back of his head now.

"Oh for fuck sakes, Frankie, listen to what he fucking says." Kit growled before getting my bag out of whatever the hell he'd put it in.

"Who's the girl?" He asked, looking up at Kit.

"Be polite, kid." Kit laughed. "That's Rosie. She's spending the night."

"Ew." He rolled his eyes, earning another smack to the back of his head which pissed him off. "What?!"

"Kit just told you to be polite. Go inside. Go to bed." The older brother was clearly the bossy one.

Frankie mumbled something about having no school tomorrow but headed back into the house. He slammed the door behind himself which only made the four of them clench their jaws. I flinched before they started to head inside. Kit pushed me in front of himself to make sure I was walking into the house.

A shoe closet was on the left and the living room was to the right. An old couch with another old love seat, both from different sets of furniture were set up facing a television set that sat in the corner by the window. The floor was carpet up until the doorway which led past a set of stairs and straight into the kitchen with a laminate floor. The cupboards were old with a few missing or loose handles. The dishes were drying on a rack beside the sink and the kitchen table was littered with an eleventh grade science textbook, a few pens and pencils and a notebook.

Frankie has left his backpack on the floor beside his untucked chair. I could hear the water running from somewhere, meaning he was having a shower. He was the only kid in the house it looked like.

Despite being old, everything was surprisingly very clean, ignoring the empty soda can on the coffee table. There were no holes in the walls or pictures hanging anywhere. The refrigerator did have an old drawing on it with Frankie's name on it though. I smiled at that.

"Why's his shit everywhere?" Felix muttered, starting to clean it up.

"Leave the kid alone, man." Kit laughed at him. "It's Friday and he's had a rough day."

Felix laughed, but agreed, still tidying up after his brother. Theo sprawled out on the love seat while Red got himself comfortable on one end of the couch.

"You. Come with me." Kit said to me, not as aggressively as I'd been prepared for.

I followed him through the kitchen and down a flight of stairs into a carpeted basement hallway. He opened a door on the left and one on the right. Left was the bathroom with a shower and right was a bedroom. It looked like his bedroom to be exact.

Posters of naked girls on bikes and unmade bed with dirty laundry scattered on the floor. No windows, just the poor light from the ceiling. He made the bed quickly and kicked the clothes into a pile in the corner while closing some drawers of the dresser in the corner.

"You can sleep in here." He told me. "The bathroom is right across the hall. Every other door is locked, so I wouldn't really bother with the other rooms. I'm locking the basement door as well. Don't want you sneaking off in the middle of the night."

"It's past the middle of the night." I retorted, glaring at him. "I have to work tomorrow morning."

His jaw set and he shoved his hands into his pockets. He wasn't happy with what I'd said. I think he'd expected me to thank him. I was anything but thankful I was going to be honest.

"Call in." He deadpanned. "I won't be unlocking the door until after I get up tomorrow which probably won't be until noon."

"Are you joking?" I was not happy.

I could lose my job because of this asshat! Then I'd lose the apartment and my spot in college. I'd be a homeless college dropout with an alcoholic father. The most cliche of disasters. I had to go to work.

"Your working for me now." He said, gruffly. "Call in or get fired. I don't fucking care."

"Oh! And what exactly does my new job entail?" I demanded.

"I'll let ya know." He closed my door and I heard his footsteps and they ascended up the steps.

The clicking of the door locking was heard and I was left alone. My hair was too gross not to shower, so I did so quickly before putting on some underwear and the tank top I'd had on under my flannel. I'd forgotten pyjamas so this was the best I could do. I crawled into the bed, not really sure of what I should do before I fell asleep.