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 and started wearing his grandfather's legacy cut, gotten his first tattoo, rescued a damsel in distress, crushed on a few different girls, hooked up at a party, and gotten into a few fights. Recently, he was used and abused by the older woman next door again, this time with no explanation. 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.
Matt finally showed his face at school on Wednesday. Everyone could see that he was sulking, but he even brushed me aside when I tried to talk to him. I let it go, knowing how hurt he was, but it really bothered me. I was there for him, so what the hell? Right?
Darcy grabbed my arm before I could get to the cafeteria at lunch time. "We need to talk!" She told me, dragging me away by the hand.
I followed her out to my truck and let her in on the passenger side, joining her moments later. "What's up?" I asked.
"Ok. So. I was lurking on the rumor mill, and you won't believe what I saw."
"Ok. And?"
She pulled out her phone and held it up as she read, "Riley Stephens. What's his deal?"
"Seen it." I told her.
"Nope. Get this, I'm quoting here, 'Riley was the best, like THE BEST,' all caps there, 'lay of my life.'" She squealed, hitting my arm. "'I was super into him before, but now that I had a taste, I'm calling all you bitches out.'" She paused for a breath before continuing, "'how has nobody been talking about this? I clearly wasn't the first, so what the actual eff?'" She punctuated her speech by hitting me on the arm repeatedly while giggling. I wasn't even sure how to respond. "There's a bunch of thirsty bitches commenting after that, but damn. You really punched your ticket here Stud."
"Uh. Thanks. I guess."
She stared at me incredulously. "That's it?"
I shrugged. "What am I supposed to say? I'm just me. Nothing special."
Her jaw dropped open. "I can't tell if you're seriously being humble about this or yanking my chain."
I shrugged again.
"That aloof shit will get you everywhere Riley my dear boy." She told me, still eyeing me warily. "Asshole." I laughed as she chuckled along. We spent the rest of lunch hanging out in my truck.
Dad was waiting for me when I got home that day. "Drop your bag. We're headed out." I stood confused for a minute before following him out to his car. He ignored my questions about the situation and drove us out of town in silence. It wasn't until we got there that I realized where he was taking me. I'd never been there, but I recognized it as his childhood home from some pictures I had found in an old shoebox.
The place was kind of a cross between trailer trash and farmland. My grandfather sat in the screened-in front porch smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. He made no move to get up, so Dad and I sat down with him. There were no pleasantries shared.
Dad spoke first. "It's time he knew, Pop."
My face scrunched up in confusion, before it registered that I was going to hear about the rift between them. I sat quietly, waiting for the story.
My grandfather stubbed out his cigarette before lighting another one and offering one to us. Dad declined, so I did as well. I honestly didn't know if Dad knew I smoked occasionally. "You expect me to tell him? Not happening. You tell him, and I'll fill in the gaps."
Dad grumbled. "Alright. Riley, when I was just a few years older than you, your mom and I were going through a rough patch." He NEVER talked about mom, this must be big. "You were just a baby. She was having trouble coping. Postpartum, you know what that is?" I nodded. "Well she was in a bad way. She took to lashing out, and drinking, and-"
"And fucking anything that moved." Grandpa interrupted.
Dad sighed. "And fooling around. Yeah." I could see it still bothered him. "Back then I was prospecting, or I guess just hanging around thinking about it." I knew he'd never been a member, so this was news to me. "We'd had a fight, and I told a few of the guys what had happened."
He paused, so Grandpa jumped in. "Word got to me. I don't play that shit and your daddy knew it. I told him to man up and make it right."
"I told him to stay out of it. It was my problem, and your mom was just sick. I wanted to handle it my own way."
"So I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I protected my boy." Grandpa threw in.
"You went against my wishes."
"SO DID SHE!"
"Yeah but you fucking killed someone Pop!"
They both got quiet. "So the club took care of it, and what?" I asked, trying to break the silence.
Dad shook his head. "I know you're not going to understand this, but as much as I hated the guy. It wasn't just on him."
