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One Hundred and Three
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2021-07-10 23:12:26Ruby
Dad took us back to Dylan’s house and told Mom to meet us there. My friends and I took a seat on the comfy couch, cradling hot mugs of coffee. Tegan and Sarah smiled as they watched Dylan’s daughter, Brooke, as she played with her toys. Mia was daydreaming and stared at the carpet with glazed eyes. My thoughts were plagued with worry. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened and hadn’t noticed that Dad had crouched down at the side of the couch to talk to me.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked, nudging my ching with his knuckles. I sucked in a soft gasp and nodded. “My Gamma needs to ask a few questions, but it’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?”
"Yeah, I guess. What time is Mom getting here?" I asked.
“She's on her way over with Sam,” he answered.
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Caleb "Yeah, plenty of thing’s spring to mind, but there is one that is owed a confession," Dylan said as he grinned at Aiden, then edged his chair away to maintain a safer distance. "I was sixteen, and Aiden was eighteen," Dylan began to confess, much to Aiden's interest. Upon hearing his name, he folded his bare muscular arms across his chest. "He borrowed my bike without my permission and ended up buckling the front wheel. He never said anything to me, and put it back in the garage in the hope that I wouldn’t find out what he’d done. I found it the following day and smelled his scent all over it, so I knew that he had used it. I was passive-aggressive, and in an act of vengeance, I sabotaged a burrito that he’d been saving in the fridge by filling it with laxatives. I watched as he devoured it for lunch, and asked if I could hang out with him and Vanessa that day. He was rather reluctant because he wanted to fool around with her while her dorm was
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Caleb Aaron tipped the empty Tequila bottle upside down to prove a point. “No way! We’ve gone through the second bottle already?” He turned to my father with an accusatory tone. “It was opened twenty minutes ago.” Aaron’s face was partially hidden beneath his Batman mask, but the whites of his bulging eyes were visible among the black face paint. He had been doing rather well, talking in a gruff tone to imitate the caped crusader's voice, but the sheer shock at how fast my father could sink his liquor caused his pitch to raise a few octaves. Dad gave a casual shrug of his green padded shoulders as he raised the shot glass to his lips and downed the contents in one large gulp. Even I had to admit that was pretty good going, considering he was wearing a pair of oversized hulk hands
