I'm Fine

Chapter 6 Martin

When I get home from school, my brother was curled over the table scribbling in answers to his homework, I used to bother helping him with it, but then I needed help myself catch up and I lost the time to give him hints or let him get by on my work after all College doesn't care about my ability to pass the third grade. My mother wasn't home, which I figure is probably because she's working overtime... again.

"What do you want for dinner?" I ask my brother looking from the coupon book on the counter, rather than turning my gaze to the pantry full of ingredients.

"Pizza," he replied, not looking away from his worksheet. I sigh, I'm sure the kid has no taste buds, he's had frozen pizza for every meal of the day (except breakfast of course) for the past two days. Usually, he even squirts on hot sauce or chocolate syrup.

"What if I make something?" I know I don't have the time and I know what his next answer will be, No but at least he knows I'm trying.

"Than what about Olive Garden or a healthier alternative?"

"Pizza." I roll my eyes and slump upstairs to do my homework and try improving my grades, but how can I do that half the time I'm too busy worrying about how much I have to do instead of actually getting it done. Eventually, my stomach tells me to stop. I order Olive Garden anyways, despite Asher.

"I'm getting dinner!" I call to Asher who's now finished with his homework and preoccupied with his tablet. He's the brainwashed one, not me, his eyes are glued to its greasy screen and his body revolves around it. I envy him for at least having under ten minutes of homework a day.

"Pizza" He grumbles as I grab my keys, the coupon book, and my coat for the not long drive to olive garden. I shake my head, although I'm not too entirely sure he'd even notice.

I think my car's my second haven to my attic, the bat cave, and the batmobile. It's overstocked in gum, mints, and yes, licorice. I have a Bart Simpson air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror and an assortment of failed phone grips I still need to take off the dashboard. Even better my aux cord plus phone music = car shaking songs to listen too. Music is my drug.

I returned with the steaming take out warming my hand, even though the plastic bag. I could tell Asher was disappointed as he saw the logo enter through the doorway.

"You picked last night," I explained quickly.

"You asked me" he grumbled, as I set the bag onto the counter and began unpacking our dinner, I made a custom pasta and got basic spaghetti from the kid's menu for Asher. He whined until I threw a handful of mints at him.

"C'mon I'll put something on TV, the Amazing Race?" he shook his head and disappeared to his room with the entire stock breadsticks and some mints.

"Take the spaghetti!" he reluctantly turned on his heel and did as I told before he stomped up the stairs to his bedroom, I was honestly too tired for his lazy, entitled, bullshit anyways. It was the silence that accompanied me as I finally did my homework. It was late, mom was even home by the time I finished, but at least I'd done it.

"Hey mom," I say as she comes into my room, she's quiet and when I look at her I know she's had a tough day.

"Is your brother asleep?"

"Yeah, I got you lasagna, it's in the fridge"

"Thanks, Martin" she smiled, but I've learned that it didn't come easily, she still hasn't gotten over the loss of my father, she took it harder than any of us but to be fair. I think she filled the gap of him with overtime at the hospital. Asher wasn't even two yet. He basically grew up without a father and it wasn't until he saw the 'man' on a kids TV show he learned that our family didn't have one.