RoninMaximus Presents: My Boring, Shitty Life 8
Riley is just starting out in life, but thus far, is unimpressed. He's still in high school and having trouble finding himself in a world where everyone around him feels like they have it all together. In the past few weeks, he's joined a motorcycle club, gotten his first tattoo, rescued a damsel in distress, crushed on a few different girls, and gotten into a few fights. Most recently, he was used and abused by the older woman next door as repayment for saving the damsel. Things will heat up bit by bit along the way. All characters mentioned are over the age of eighteen, because, reasons, and as always this is a work of fiction.
I was walking on cloud nine getting ready for school the next day. Everything felt new, or renewed or whatever. I don't know, I was in my own little world without a care at all. That's probably why I didn't notice my dad sitting at the table when I walked in. With my head buried in the refrigerator, he popped my bubble, making me bang my head on a shelf as he startled me.
"Smells like pussy in here." He said bluntly.
I whipped around to face him. "I uh, hi. Hey."
"Care to explain?" He asked me, sipping his coffee but keeping his eyes locked on me like I was his next meal. He kind of looked like a Bond villain if I'm honest.
Here's where things get tricky. See, dad and I had a weird relationship. He was a disciplinarian, and a provider, but besides that, we didn't interact much. I always felt like I was in his way, keeping him from living the life he wanted. Asking me that question, with him having disappeared on me when we were supposed to talk earlier this week, not that I usually wanted to talk to him in the first place, it all just kind of compiled. Suddenly I DID want to talk to him. In fact, I wanted to fight.
I stood up straight and boldly asked, "why do you think?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "Really then. Ok Hot Shot, sit." I rolled my eyes dramatically, probably laying it on too thick, but sat down none the less. "There a lot to cover?"
I folded my hands on the table and met his gaze. "Depends if you're gonna tell me how you know Rhett and Trash."
I don't think he was expecting me to ask it outright like that, but he nodded before continuing. "Fair. What happened, and with who?"
I shook my head. "Too vague. How do you know Rhett and Trash?"
"They're old friends. Who did you bring into this house?" He asked, matching my tone and demeanor blow for blow.
My eyebrow raised similar to his from earlier, two could play that game. "A friend. How do you KNOW them?"
I could tell he was suppressing a smirk. "Through the club. Which friend and are they at least 18?" Before I could answer, he added, "no bullshit. You and I could both wind up in a lot of trouble if she wasn't."
I nodded. "She was. Trying to keep her name out of it, but she's a neighbor. How did you get involved with the club?" I hurried to add, "are you a member?"
"No. I'm not. But the club has been around since before I was born. Your grandfather was a member, a founding one, or maybe just after founding. Either way. I think I know who your girlfriend is so let's move on here. Did the club give you that truck outside?"
I nodded. "It's not mine to keep, just to borrow until I get my own wheels. So grandpa huh, you don't talk about him much. Why is that?"
I could tell I struck a nerve there, it wasn't my intention as the conversation had been cooling. "I won't get into that. Just suffice it to say we had a disagreement, and he went against my wishes. We haven't talked much since. We NEVER spoke until you had a take your grandparents to work day in elementary school. How are you repaying them for the truck?"
Ok so that was more information than I had ever gotten about their relationship, it kind of scared me actually. "Don't we fight like that all the time? Is that what's going to happen to us?"
He shook his head. "This was bigger. Now what do you give them to use the truck?"
I shrugged, "it's already done."
He nodded and put his hand on mine, noting the obvious injuries on my knuckles. "If you get in too deep, or they ask you to do something you can't or won't do, I need you to tell me. Okay?" For the first time in a long time, I could see that my dad really cared about me. I nodded. "I'm here if you need me."
I didn't want to fight my dad anymore. If I could just get the damn smoke out of my eyes. I'm not exactly an emotional guy, so I'm not sure how I went from angry and sarcastic to scared and tearful like that.
He chuckled and slapped my back as he headed out. "Buck up biker boy." I chuckled despite myself, and he was gone.
I drove myself to school, elated at the nods and looks people were giving me in my new/old truck. I was late, but not too late. No one was around the parking lot, but the halls were still emptying into first period when I got in.
Sitting down, I opened up the rumor mill on my phone to see what was new, catching my reflection on screen and suddenly remembering that my face was a little messed up. Guess dad had the upper hand this morning, since I had forgotten all about it. The mill was buzzing about a bunch of different things, and I put my two cents in for a few of them. When I got to the picture of myself in the hallway I stopped scrolling and turned my attention to class. I didn't want to know what people were saying about that.
