The Bad Boy And The Autistic Angel (BL)

I scrunch my nose as I slowly open my eyes, only to find a foot in my face. I'm going to be really fucking honest right now: I don't know who this foot belongs to... or where the hell I am.

I sit up to see my buddy Zain lying on the couch. My other friend, Arron, is asleep behind me, and our other friend, Lauren, is nowhere to be found.

Two people stand in front of us with their arms crossed before—

"Jarred?! Did you throw a party?!" they yell, causing my friends to wake up.

Beer is everywhere, things are broken, my head is pounding, and—wait... where the fuck did my other shoe go?

My phone is dead, and from the looks of it, I didn't go home last night.

Fuck.

_______

I walk through the front door to see Mom on the phone. She immediately turns around and places her hand over her chest.

"Oh God—n-no. He just walked in. Let me call you right back."

She hangs up the phone, and immediately, I see my last breath in her eyes.

"Where have you been?!" she snaps. "Do you know what time it is? Matter of fact, do you know what day it is?! Because it's not the same day as it was when you walked out that front door! I expect you to be back the same day that you left, Channum!"

Nag.

Nag.

Nag.

That's all my mom does. If they gave medals for nagging, my mom would win them all.

"Listen—" I motion my hand toward her as she crosses her arms. "I came back. That's the most important—"

"I'M ABOUT TO LOSE MY MIND!" she screams.

And here we go...

"I don't care that you came back! No—scratch that. I do. I just need you to come back the same day that you left! It's not that hard, Channum! Ever since your father died—"

I tune her out as I walk over to the fridge and grab the orange juice jug. If they gave trophies to people who said the same stuff over and over, then my mom would definitely win that too.

"And I know that you've been drinking!" I hear her say before I pour myself a glass of orange juice. "And you know what I think?!"

She asks as I pull the glass to my lips.

"I think you should get an AIDS test—"

I spit that damn juice out all over the counter. Some of it even comes out of my nose, pissing me off even more.

"Where the fuck did that come from?!" I spin around and glare at her, wiping the juice away with my arm.

"Who knows where you've been?!" she tells me.

"Gah damn, do you need to know every fucking thing?! Would you like—like to fucking put a GPS device on me? No, better yet, let's hire a guy to follow me around so he can record my every fucking move live! Would you like that?! Would that get you to shut the hell up?!" I snap.

Mom's face turns dark red as her throat clenches from swallowing hard.

"You're not the only one who's having a hard time with your father passing—"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" I scream, even though it's not true. "I don't care... Mom. I just want to hang out with my friends and be left alone. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone..."

I shake my head as I stare at her.

She slowly nods her head. I can see the hurt on her face, even though I didn't mean it. I'm just so tired of her bringing up Dad.

"Hand me your phone..." she says, holding out her hand.

"No—"

"HAND ME YOUR PHONE, CHANNUM MCBRIDGE!" she screams.

I storm over and slam the phone into her hand before storming off to my room.

Dad definitely wouldn't have helicoptered me like this... so why is she?

I slam the door so hard that it bounces back open, causing me to slam it again before I fall backward onto my bed.

Next year, I'm moving the fuck out, and I'm not coming back.

I sit up, grab my guitar, and start playing it.

"I DON'T HAVE A FUCKING LIFE, ALL BECAUSE MY DAD JUST DIED, AND INSTEAD OF CRYING AND MOVING ON, MY MOM LIKES TO KICK ME IN THE GAH DAMN BALLS!"

"Channum—keep on, son!" I hear her call.

I roll my eyes before tossing my guitar to the side.

I hate it here.

_________

One thing I hate about school is that it's not an escape.

I get out of the car as Mom follows behind me.

"I want you in class, Channum. Do not let me find out that you skipped class again. And for God's sake, there are no-smoking signs everywhere! You're the principal's son. At least show them that you know how to read. It's not even reading, it's—"

I tune her out.

We walk into the school before Mom gently grabs my arm. I look over at her. She's much shorter than me. She thinks she's so intimidating. She may scare everyone else, but not me.

Never me.

"I love you, Channum," she tells me.

I look away from her.

"Can I go to class now?"

Mom gently lets go of my arm, and I walk off. I don't have time for this bullshit today.

I'll attend one class, and that's homeroom. There, they can get my attendance and pretty much prove that I was at least at school.

Don't I get brownie points for showing up to this motherfucker?

I walk into class and sit down at my desk. Now, I usually do come in, sit down, and stay to myself until someone fucks with me. And who is that someone?

"McBridge? I'm glad you could join us today."

Mr. Hawks places his hands on his hips.

"But I'm going to tell you what I tell every other girl that walks into the classroom: If I can see your eyeliner all the way from the other side of the room, you're wearing way too much."

I roll my eyes, let out a breath, and sit up a little straighter.

"You dumbass. It's a stylistic choice. You're supposed to see the shit."

He immediately points toward the classroom door, and I know that's my ticket out.

I smile before standing up, grabbing my shit, and leaving. He'll put in my attendance because I know he'll be thinking about how much he hates me all day, just like everyone else.

"Go to your mom's office," I hear him say before I walk out the door.

Yeah.

Like that shit's gonna happen.

I walk outside, lean my back against the wall, and pull out a pack of cigarettes. I grab a cigarette with my lips before pulling it out the pack, and then I light it.

The sound of the burning tobacco reminds me that I'm slowly killing myself, but that's okay. Because at least it's not fast...

It's so slow that nobody will ever realize that's why I started smoking in the first place.

So I could slowly check the fuck out of this place.

I slowly inhale when I hear laughter.

I cut my eyes toward the direction it's coming from as I exhale the smoke.

I see two people.

"Hahaha—" the student laughs as he leaps from side to side, causing the teacher to do the same, like he's trying to block him.

I scrunch my nose, watching them. Is this some kind of policy that my mom put into place? Now teachers are literally blocking people?!

I can already see it... Boy, I tell you, I'd kill someone if they did that shit to me.

"Hahahaha—" the guy races around the teacher, causing him to spin around.

"BLAKE!" he screams.

I chuckle before bringing the cigarette back up to my lips. That guy has more balls than me. I wonder what's so special about this kid that the teacher actually chased after him. They usually just let me go and write my name down.

I flick the ashes before that same kid comes running back, and so does that same teacher. I watch as they pretty much play chase... until the teacher grabs him and—

"No! No! No! No!"

The guy falls backward, but the teacher catches him and holds him up.

Oh.

I see.

This is something you watch from a distance...

Instead of being so worried about me, my mom should be worried about all this shit.

Speaking of my mom...

I exhale the smoke as she comes walking out, a walkie-talkie on her hip and a clipboard in her hand.

"Blake, sweetie? Where do you wanna go?" she asks as this Blake guy practically rolls away from the teacher and stands up.

He scratches his head and looks around.

"Run, run—ha—mmm."

I raise my eyebrows before flicking my cigarette, watching as it flies through the air before hitting the ground.

Mom looks over, drops her arms, and glares at me.

I smile and throw up a hand.

"Run!" Blake suddenly says before he turns around and hauls ass, forcing Mom and that teacher to chase after him.

Hey.

I like him already!

I turn around and walk back inside.

Even though I don't have a phone, my friends are here. So we meet up in the bathroom on our hall.

"Where the hell were you?" I ask Lauren when she walks up.

She flips her hair over her shoulder.

"I tried to tell y'all to come on, but nobody listened, so I went home. I like partying, but I don't like getting in trouble. I'll definitely leave that to you, Zaine, and Arron."

She's the responsible one of the group... well, more responsible than the rest of us. She's still skipping school with us, though, so there's that.

"Where are we going today?" she asks as we wait for everyone else.

I lean against the wall with my arms crossed.

"I don't know. Anywhere but here."

I slowly nod my head as Zaine walks up. We dap before Arron walks up behind him. I dap him too, and then we all walk off.

"We need to go out the side door because my mom is outside chasing some dude around—" I tell them as they look over at me, giving me a puzzled look.

"Special kid..."

"Ahhh—" they all nod.

We head out the side door.

____________

There's a lake that's been blocked off because it's private property. But we like to sneak up here and drink because it's beautiful. When the sun reflects off the surface, it looks like little diamonds sparkling across the lake.

I bring the beer bottle up to my lips as I think about life.

The hard, hard reality of life.

Flashback—

I sit in the passenger seat of the car.

"And so I was thinking, maybe if I started playing football again, I'll have a reason to live..." I tell Dad as he talks on his Bluetooth.

"No, I told you that I needed to push this meeting back," Dad says as he holds up a finger.

Typical.

I lean back in my seat and cross my arms.

"Alright... o-okay. Y-yeah, take care."

Dad hangs up before looking over at me.

"What did you say, bud?"

"Alright, I was thinking—" I start, but his phone starts ringing again.

I fall back into the seat and cross my arms again.

Dad starts talking.

"Why did you even have a son?" I ask, not thinking he heard me.

But the conversation doesn't last that long, and he hangs up.

The car is quiet for a moment before—

"I had a son because I wanted to," Dad says.

I feel my cheeks grow warm, but my pride won't let me be quiet. I feel like he's always choosing his job over me.

"Well, you know what? Maybe you should've adopted your job because that's where all your attention goes, too," I tell him.

I've been trying to talk to him for a while now, and he never makes time for me.

"I have a job, kiddo. I have to put food on the table, a roof over your head, clothes on your back—"

"But at what cost?!" I interrupt him. "You don't even care about me!"

"That's not true, Channum—"

"YES, IT IS!" I scream.

That's the first time I've ever screamed at my dad.

"YES, IT IS!"

I shake my head.

"I'ma write you a song," I say, nodding as I stare at him. "And it's called—"

"Channum, watch out—"

**CRASH!**

I don't remember anything after that...

But I heard that a car ran a stoplight.

It all happened so fast.

But I remember when I got the news.

The news that the last thing I did with my dad was fight with him.

Flashback over—

I bring the beer bottle back up to my lips and take a hard swallow.