One and Done - S. Briones Lim Page 0,11

I want to get you at another angle.”

I couldn’t help but smile at Rocky’s tone. It was shy, angry, and somewhat territorial. Without hesitation, I turned around and faced my friend.

“Hey! Now I can’t see him!” Sarah protested.

I drowned her out and remained focused on Rocky’s big eyes. Though her drawing board blocked the rest of her face, I would bet any amount of money that she was sporting the usual blush that I had grown to love so much. Whenever I looked at her, it was as if it were just us two in the room—perhaps the world. Soon the other students became nothing but white noise in the background.

Chapter 3

“Mom, I’m home!” I shouted, not knowing why I insisted on announcing my arrival every day after school. Maybe it was to give my mom the chance to hide whatever brand of whiskey she was chugging down her throat, or maybe it was even for the slight possibility of hearing her ask me how my day went. Yeah, I knew the latter would never happen.

“Mom?”

I groaned when the aroma of tequila hit my nose. She only hit the Jose Cuervo bottle on particularly bad days.

“About time you showed up!” she snarled.

Yup, definitely a bad day.

I followed the raspy voice to our den and groaned when I spotted my mother lighting up another cigarette. A filthy kitchen bowl sat on the table beside her, filled to the brim with ash and cigarette butts.

I shifted uneasily and tried my hardest to ignore everything around me. I ignored the stack of newspapers that littered the ground. I ignored the empty bottle at her feet. I even ignored the two empty cigarette boxes thrown onto our stained couch. At least I tried to, anyway.

“You know, it’s really dangerous smoking near paper. You trying to burn this place down?” I growled, snatching up the mess to throw away.

“You better watch your mouth, boy. You’ve been a pain in my ass since the day I peed on that pregnancy stick, and I don’t need your smartass telling me what to do.” She took another drag of her cigarette and eyed me disgustedly. “I’m your mother, remember?”

“Then why don’t you act like it for once?” I snapped back as I walked toward the kitchen. A sudden crash caused me to whirl around. Tiny bell-like whistles echoed as glass and ceramic pieces littered the hardwood floor. “What the fuck?”

Mom jumped from her seat, and in superhero fashion, rushed toward me with her fist in the air.

Bam.

Another sucker punch to the face.

Though this particular punch didn’t hold the same physical power as Dwight’s had, this one hurt more. A lot more.

I winced as the familiar swirl of sadness and anger pooled inside my stomach. Mom stumbled a bit, but was obviously fuming. Her chest rose and fell as if struggling to capture what little breath she had left. God knew the only thing in her lungs was black ash.

“You better watch that mouth, you stupid fuck!” she exclaimed, gasping for air. “You’d be in the gutter dead if I wasn’t here watching your dumb ass.” She lurched toward the side, nearly knocking into our china cabinet. A vindictive part of me yearned to see her smack her face into the glass, but of course I wouldn’t let that happen. My arm shot out, catching her before she face planted. Unfortunately, instead of thanking me, she looked up and scowled. “Get your filthy hands off of me, boy! I don’t need your help.”

“What the fuck is your problem? I do nothing but take care of you and…love you. Why are you always attacking me?”

“We never wanted kids, then suddenly you showed up.” The tone of her voice was low and eerie. It reminded me of a killer taunting his victim before he lashed out. Prying her arm from my hold, she managed to hobble toward her beer-stained recliner and plop down.

“It’s called protection, Mom…or in your case, maybe you should have just abstained,” I growled.

She huffed. “You’ve always been a fucking thorn in my side. You ever wonder why your father left us? Because of you!”

I bit my tongue, fighting the urge to remind her that it wasn’t me who was drugged out every single hour of the day, nor was it me who drained our savings on whiskey and pills. Dad left because Mom chose the bottle over him, but she’d never understand that.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I narrowed my eyes and ground out,