Chapter Two
Tank
The alarm clock pulled me out of a deep sleep and a pretty cool dream about blond girls in tight jeans. I cursed under my breath and slapped at it until it finally stopped beeping.
My mind slowly remembered that Christmas break was over and it was time to reenter the hell that was school. You’d think being a senior would have its perks. But really, nothing made up for the fact that I was going to spend the rest of the day bored out of my mind.
Sighing to myself I swung my legs off the bed.
My heart lurched. That all too familiar smell of cheap alcohol and stale Virginia Slims greeted me.
Damn, not again.
It didn’t happen too often, but when it did, my world got screwed up.
Pulling on some jeans, I made my way out to the living room. Yep, like I thought. My mom was passed out on the couch, an empty bottle of vodka lying on its side on the floor. A half-empty pack of cigarettes on the table beside a full ashtray.
Shaking my head, I started cleaning up. Being careful not to wake her. That would come later. Now, I just wanted to get rid of this stuff. Jason might stop by and offer me a ride, Luke was riding with Nick. But you never know who might show up.
My stomach turned over as I got a trash bag and started filling it.
Once I had the room somewhat presentable, I gently put my hand on my mom’s shoulder.
“Mom, you need to go to bed.”
“Henry?” my mom mumbled. I knew instantly that it was going to be bad. She only called me Henry when she was hungover. One of those floor crawling hangovers that lasted for days.
Either that or when she was really drunk, and I was pretty sure the vodka had run out hours ago.
“Mom, you need to go to your bed,” I repeated.
She looked up at me with blurry eyes. Eyes that seemed to be empty. Lost to a night of pain.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“That’s okay Mom. Come on, I’ll get you to bed.”
Kneeling down, I tried to put my arm around her to help her up. But she pushed me away and rolled over, grasping her head like it was going to explode.
Rushing into the kitchen, I got the trash can and placed in next to her.
She frowned at me then closed her eyes as she tried to stop the world from moving so quickly.
“I don’t need that,” she hissed as she tried to sit up.
“It’s just in case. Come on, you need to get to bed, I’ve got to get to school, and I can’t leave you here.”
“Afraid your friends will see your mother passed out on the couch,” she sneered then caught the pain on my face at the truth of her words and had the decency to look contrite.
Standing, she wobbled a few steps, then reached out for my hand. I slipped an arm around her and walked her to her room at the end of the hall.
Once she was safely under the blankets, I got a glass of water and a couple of Motrin and placed them on her bedside table. I knew it’d be hours before she woke up. But they would be there for her when she needed them.
Sighing, I stepped back and shook my head. Was this happening more often? I wondered. It’d been a couple of weeks since the last time.
My heart sank, as I grabbed a couple of pop tarts, I thought about my dad. He was due to get out of prison soon. We didn’t know exactly when yet. But it was soon. Too soon if you asked me. Was that what was pushing her off the deep end? Did she worry about that?
We’d never talked about it. Never discussed what would happen when he got out. It was one of those taboo subjects that was never broached. A silent gorilla sitting in the middle of our life.
Shoving the cold pop tarts down, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to lock it behind me. A burglar could have walked in and loaded up a truck with our stuff, and she wouldn’t have heard.
Shaking my head, I started for Jason’s house.
“Hurry up big guy,” he yelled as soon as he saw me. “We’re going to be late.”
Amber, his girlfriend, stood next to him, her arms wrapped through his arm as she tried to fight off the cold morning chills.
I looked up and gave them a weak smile.
Jason stared for a moment, then shook his head and mumbled, “Damn,” under his breath.
That was the thing about Jason. He always knew. No matter what I did, he knew.
“Come on,” he said, softer this time.
Amber looked back and forth between us, obviously trying to figure out what was going on. But Jason ignored her and held the door for her to get in.
When I got to his truck, he punched me in the shoulder and then turned away.
That was Jason. We didn’t talk about this crap. One of the many things I liked about him.
The ride to school was quiet, each of us lost in our own little world.
As we pulled into the student parking lot, my insides tightened up. Man, how I hated this place. Now that the football season was over. There wasn’t anything fun. Just books, lectures, and a thousand stupid kids. Each with their own little hell.
“Are you going out for Track and Field again?” Jason asked me. See, he always knew what I was thinking. Here he was holding out a carrot to help me get through the day.
“You run Tank?” Amber asked, her pretty eyes wide with obvious surprise. A guy my size wasn’t exactly known for running.
“No,” I said, “field events, Shot Putt, Discuss,”
“Tank’s got a chance at beating the state record this year.”
“Wow, I didn’t know.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m going to go out for track this year.”
“Why,” she asked, obviously confused.
I just shrugged my shoulders and stepped out of the truck. How could I answer her? I didn’t know why not. It just felt like I should be doing something else to get ready for graduation. Something with meaning.
Deciding the best way to avoid any in-depth examination on the subject was to get the hell out of there, I quickly thanked Jason for the ride, nodded to Amber, and headed into the school.
I caught Amber shoot Jason a quick look. He just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
That was Jason, he had my back.
The school was the same as it always was. Crowded, noisy, and a royal pain in the butt. That familiar smell of floor wax, cheap perfume, and too many kids washed over me.
I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. I forced thoughts about my mom to the back of my brain. I pushed the worries about my dad to the side, and tried to focus on just getting through the day.
As I walked down the middle of the hall, the kids moved out of my way. Parting like the Red Sea. They could see the scowl on my face and knew enough to stay out of my way. Being the biggest guy in school didn’t hurt.
The noise washed over me as I thought about my next class. Boring Trigonometry. The fact that I might use the stuff someday working for Jason’s dad was the only thing that pushed me along.
I had just turned a corner when I spotted Marla Turner. Jason’s little sister standing next to her locker. She stood stiffly, her hands at her side, curled into tiny fists. Oh crap, this was not good. My heart jumped
Justin Weber was standing way too close, his silly smile trying to win her over. My heart jumped when he reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear. I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. How dare he? This was Marla, didn’t he know the rules. No one was allowed to mess with her. Especially not some tenth-grade punk.
“Hey Marla,” I said as I stepped up next to the two of them.
She looked up, surprised to see me there. For just a moment, I saw a sense of relief wash through her, then it was followed rather quickly by an angry scowl.
I, being the idiot I was, ignored her and focused my attention on little Justine. I had him by a good twelve inches and seventy pounds of pure muscle.
His face suddenly turned very white as he swallowed hard. Yep, like I thought. He knew the rules.
Scowling at him, I waited for the idiot to finally figure it out.
He gulped then said, “Uh, I’ll see you later Marla,” he turned and scurried away as quickly as his little legs would carry him. He got about ten feet away and half way into the hall crowd before he looked back. The punk didn’t even have the sense to look at Marla. Instead, his nervous eyes found mine. Probably wondering if I was going to chase him.
Seeing me still standing there, his shoulders slumped with relief as he got lost in the crowd.
“You can’t do that,” Marla said as she punched me in the shoulder.
“What?” I asked as she shook her hand to get rid of the numbness.
“Scare them away. It isn’t fair.”
“Come on, no way were you interested in that twerp. I saw you. I only came over to stop you from kicking his ass and ending up expelled. You owe me. Imagine what your dad would have said. Or worse, your mom.”
Marla shuddered then turned on me. “I mean it Tank, who I am interested in is none of your business. A boy was talking to me ...”
“He wasn’t talking,” I said as an anger began to build up inside of me. After the morning I had, it didn’t take much. “He was pawing you like you were his property.”
“What if he was?” she yelled back at me. “Again, it is none of your business. Just stay out of my life. All of you.”
I stepped back, shocked, it was as if Marla had slapped me. She was really pissed. At me. I don’t think she’d ever yelled at me. In our entire life, she had never said a cross word to me. All I was doing was trying to help. Really, I knew her, she was not enjoying what that crap head was doing.
“Hey,” I said as I held up my hands in defeat. “Whatever you want. I was just trying to help. But if you want to let something like that into your life. Well, don’t worry, I’ll leave you alone.”
Marla stared up at me for a long moment, then screamed to herself and pushed past me. For just a second I thought I saw a tear at the corner of her eye. But that was impossible, Marla Turner didn’t cry. That was one of the many cool things about her.
As she worked her way down the hall, my eyes were drawn to the tight curve of her jeans.
Crap, when did that happen? I wondered. The girl was looking good. She’d always been cuter than a Christmas kitten. Long blond hair, six freckles on her nose, a sweet, caring smile. Marla was special. Everyone knew that. But now, suddenly, there was more. A lot more. No wonder that idiot was hitting on her.
I made a mental note to tell Jason. Hell, it was his problem, not mine.
I had more than enough of my own crap to worry about. The last thing I needed to do was get into worrying about Marla Turner.