Miles goes through life as a pot smoker, a drinker, and meets a girl he likes. But does she like him back?
Now, being the man he was, Frank took control. He lectured the boy day and night about his habits, but Miles would just sigh and leave the room, or start shouting about how Frank had turned out. He wasn’t in jail, he hadn’t accidentally killed anyone, and was very well off.
“It’s different now,“ Frank would keep reminding him. “Things have changed. The system doesn’t allow kids like you, like, anywhere. And there ain’t a producer who will take a junkie anymore. They have realized they can get better than a fool with a blunt.”
“Don’t call me a fool, old man!”
“Oh you did not just call me old!”
“Stop complaining and acting like, like, Cherry!”
“Your sister has nothing to do with this!” Jamia stepped in, putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder calmly. He turned away from his son in one movement, and walking away let out a large sigh, his shoulders heaving in. Miles fell back onto the couch with a thump, crossing his arms. His tattooed forearms showing from him not wearing a shirt.
Jamia sighed, crossing her own arms this time.
“He wants the best for you,” She reminded him. “He loves you.”
“He hates me,” Miles snapped, forcing himself not to pout like his body wanted him too.
“You are just like him, Honey. He knows that, and is kicking his own rump for raising you like that,” She gave him the mom look. Not the stink eye, the ‘Mother-Knows-Best’ one that every mother had.
“Ok,” He wanted to be able to walk away. But that was disrespectful, and this was his Momma.
“Go on now. Go do your homework,” She said to him, turning. She ran a dust covered rag over the TV screen, and listened to his footsteps as he ran up the stairs. When he got to the top he walked, looking into his sister’s rooms.
Cherry was laid back, chillin in her neon green onesie. She had her hair pulled back into a tight bun, and was shoving popcorn into her mouth, watching ‘Dude, Where’s my car?’. She didn’t notice he was there.
Lily had someone over. Someone with a penis, and Miles wondered how his father wasn’t escorting the boy out with a knife to his throat.
“But then he kissed me!” The boy said blushing. They both squealed and Miles backed away, understanding why he was allowed in Lily’s room. Plus, he was wearing pink leather boots, and Miles wondered why his eyes were looking at those ugly shoes without burning.
When he got to his room, he shut and locked the door, flopping onto his bed exhausted. He stretched for a few moments, taking small breaks. He got his exercise for awhile. Then he turned onto his left side, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer slowly. He pulled out his ‘school notebook’ and pulled it out, sliding the blunt out from it’s spine. He laughed, they had searched his room, and his hiding spots where the best.
He lit the blunt, and brought it to his lips. He sucked in a bit, letting it fill his lungs. He blew it out, the smoke surrounding his head. He started laughing, he was so smart.
“Miles,” Frank knocked on the door, trying the handle. “I need to talk to you. Open the door.”
Miles stayed silent, or as silent as he could on the verge of being high. He threw his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the laughter.
“Miles, I can hear you.”
He threw the joint into his hiding spot after putting it out on the bottom of his foot. Then, he quickly thought about his family dying and filled his eyes with tears, and threw the door open, looking at his father.
Frank wrapped his inked arms around his son, squeezing him into a hug. He thought Miles was upset about their argument. Miles silently thanked God that his father had a cold, and couldn’t smell very well.
Miles threw in a sniffle.
“Oh Honey, I’m just worried, and you know how I get,” Frank rubbed his back. “You ok?”
“I’m fine,” Miles assured. He really believed he was.