I suppose I should start at the beginning of my story. My name is David Gill, I'm eighteen, and a senior in high school. At five feet, ten inches and about 150 pounds, I'm not a big guy, but it's not like I'm a wuss. I'm striker on the soccer team at my school and I did karate for about five years, I was pretty good at it too, so I know how to handle myself.
That day started like any other, with an alarm. My clock went off at 6:30am, leaving me just enough time to shower before I left for work. I had gotten a job as a dishwasher for the past few summers, and it was my last day before school started. I turned on the water and stepped into the cubicle, the water soaking my hair and running down my chest. I turned to examine myself in the mirror, looking over my chest and stomach. I had been working out recently and it was starting to show. Realizing suddenly how long I had been in the shower, I hurriedly dried off, tousling my medium length brown hair and messily spiking it in the front.
I pulled on my usual work outfit; black slacks, and white shirt. A glance at the clock on my dresser told my that I'd have to hurry if I didn't want to be late. Rushing, I pulled on my shoes as I hopped out the door. I was in luck, I had just missed my step-dad this morning. My step-dad, or Phillip, as my mom wanted me to call him, had been living with us for about a year. I never knew my real dad, as he had died soon after I was born. People are always sympathetic when they hear that, but I always figured you can't miss what you never knew. It took me about ten minutes to walk to the restaurant where I work. Strolling in the front doors, I was greeted by my supervisor, Jill.
"Hey David, this is your last day isn't it?" Asked Jill, as she stacked the menus by the maitre'd podium.
"Unfortunately." I replied wistfully. I really wished I could stay on, I found dishwashing to be surprisingly relaxing. However, going to a boarding school prevented me from maintaining any sort of employment.
"That's a shame," said Jill, "good dishwashers are hard to find." She winked playfully at me as I pushed through the double doors to the kitchen. Jill always flirted with me like that, and I could never tell if she was serious or not. Either way, I would never reciprocate. Jill wasn't really my type of girl. Don't get me wrong, she was a pretty and twenty-ish, and she looked good when she wanted to, I was just never attracted to her.
"Good morning, amigo!" Javier, the head chef greeted me. "I hear you're leaving us again. Is this true?"
"Regrettably, I have to go back to school eventually." I said.
"Bah, school! You don't need school, stay here with us compadre." said Javier, half jokingly.
"You know I would if I could." I teased, tying my apron behind my back, "this is the only place that would hire me." Javier laughed, he always joked that dishwashers are a dime a dozen, but I was worth at least twenty cents.
The rest of the day was routine; customers ate, dishes came to me and I washed them and put them back out for Javier. At the end of the day, I was pretty exhausted. My departure was marked with a hug from Jill that got a little "cheeky", and a speech from Javier in spanish, which I didn't understand at all. As I walked home, I decided to stop in the 7-11 near my house to buy an energy drink. I normally don't drink them, but I still had to pack for school. The sleepy cashier barely looked at me as he rang me up. I briefly considered the fact that I could probably rob the place twice before he noticed. I sipped the cloyingly sweet mixture of caffeine and stimulants as I walked the two blocks back to my house. I thought about Branston, the small town where I lived, and how I would miss it while I was at school, just as I missed my school when I was at home. I came to the conclusion that life is funny like that just as I reached my front door.
"Where the hell have you been?" demanded Phillip as I walked in. He was drinking, and probably already drunk. Big surprise.
"I was at work." I said, doing my best not to provoke him. I'd made the mistake of egging him into a temper before. Those instances usually ended with me with a black eye and the next day, my mother explaining to the neighbors how I had run into a door.
"Yeah right, you were probably out, up to no good, prick." Phillip muttered under his breath.
I knew to control my temper and let that slide and escaped upstairs to my room. As I sat on my bed folding up my shirts and stowing them in a massive duffel bag, my mom knocked on the door.
"Hey David, can I come in?" she asked from the hallway.
"Sure mom, its unlocked." I said through the door.
"I just wanted to say goodbye before Phillip takes you to school tomorrow." She said, hugging me.
"Does he have to be the one to take me mom?" I asked for probably the hundredth time, while returning her hug.
"Oh honey, you know I have to work tomorrow. I know you and Phillip don't get along, so please try not to provoke him. It took a lot of asking to get him to agree to drive you to school." she said.
"Mom, not getting along is an understatement." I muttered.