Why do you pick fights with other boys? It's the question Ryan has been running from all his life. The answer will shock you.
For as long as Ryan can remember, he's always wanted to be someone special. Now, a promising high school wrestler and a po...
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While Cindy and Ryan opted for a private Friday night, Luke went to Tommy Woodman's house. Tommy was the starting QB for Squalicum's Storm team. While not the most popular jock out of the tribe, Tommy edged close. He looked like a pretty boy, but also had the muscles to show off some traditional, masculine features. Girls found him attractive with his perfect smile, angular face, and volumized blonde hair. Being more straight-laced than his other peers and a little bit more conservative kept Tommy from ascending to the highest ranks of social popularity. Parents knew Tommy as a good ol', Irish Catholic boy and the son of one of the most well off construction company owners in the county. But every now and then, Tommy would let loose. Tonight would be such a night.
Tommy picked up Luke and three of their teammates, Larry, Mitch, and Devonte, in his Dodge Ram that his father gifted him for his sixteenth birthday. The night would be one for the boys: no girls, no drama; just straight up teenage male debauchery.
"I got us a keg in the backyard," Tommy told his teammates as they arrived at his parents' house. "My cousin hooked us up. And no parents! You know what that means?"
Everyone, besides Luke, chanted in unison: "Chug! Chug Chug! Chug!"
And so they did. Between the five teammates, the keg was empty within two hours. In-between their spats of sloppy drinking, the boy shot rifles at various objects in Tommy's massive backyard and rode his ATV. Everyone seemed to be having a blast, aside from Luke. No matter how much he drank, he couldn't get over Ashley's infidelity. Most of the week played out similarly. During his lunch breaks, he opted not to spend time at school and skipped some classes altogether. Selling ecstasy was keeping him busy and there was always someone he could drive to or someone who would pick him up. The satisfaction of earning easy money was often short-lived by the notion that his relationship was fucked up.
Sitting in quiet contemplation while his peers engaged in more than likely dangerous behavior, Luke drank broodingly. To his surprise, his father's voice was mostly absent. Cruel reminders sounding like his dad telling him he was cheated on seemed like a guarantee. Anytime something bad happened, his father's voice was there to dig at the wounds. But the truth was Luke felt alone even when he was surrounded by people. He disengaged from others as the gossip he either overhead or heard directly replayed in his head:
"I was there bro. She definitely cheated..."
"The look on her face..."
"I think he fingered her..."
"She danced like a slut..."
"They probably fucked..."
Is that why you're not here, old man? Luke thought. Because I already got enough fucked up voices in my head?
"Yo," Tommy put his hand around Luke's shoulders. "What's up?"
"Nothin'." Luke finished the beer in his red cup before continuing, "Just waiting to see when this beer makes me forget about this last week."
