Hell to the No

Tread With Care

Roman

"Yo, Rome, towel me. ...Hey! Roman!"

"Hmm?" I say as Sage tries to get my attention, which is currently on the magenta mustang that's burning rubber as it peels out of the parking lot, the driver's light pink hair whipping in the wind. By the time I look back at Sage with a lazy, happy grin on my face, he's muttering something about uselessness as he leans across the front seat of my truck to snatch the towel that hangs from my hands. He folds it and lays it across the seat before climbing up into the truck. I do the same with a separate towel, to keep my seats from getting soaked in the aftermath of the water balloon war. Sage shakes his damp blonde hair out of his eyes as I start the truck's engine.

"Sorry to spoil your moment back there, by the way," he says, shrugging with a sarcastic look smeared on his face. I wrinkle my nose at him as I pull out of the parking lot, both gestures reminding me of Allie.

"What a dick," I sneer with a smile. Sage gives a small laugh.

"It was probably for the better!"

"What! What do you mean? I almost kissed her, dude." I look over at him, genuinely confused, and he's looking out the window at the sunny day. "Sage?" I say when he doesn't respond immediately. He looks back in at me with a small smile, giving a meager shrug as he averts his eyes, searching for the right words.

"Well... I dunno. I just... I don't want to see you fall again. It took you ages to get out of the funk left by the last one." The smile falls from my face as I keep my eyes on the road, and my brow darkens uneasily.

"But that was a long time ago, I'm-"

"Rome," he interjects deliberately, "You met her days ago. And knowing of each other doesn't count towards knowing someone. I just think you should be careful." I bite my tongue, my temper immediately flaring at his intervention, the light-headed, infatuated side of me turning into anger quickly at the conflict. Because he's right. The last girl I really fell for ripped me apart. Sage helped put me back together and stand me up straight, I could understand why he wanted to shield me from any potential replay of that. And I had only really met Aleithea days ago. But it seems like I've known her for longer... Hell, we slept together. Yeah, she probably doesn't remember it. And she hadn't grown on me then like she has now. She's just so different. She's a real person. Not like the shallow pieces of shit I've always only been able to date. I didn't think I would ever care enough again to want a real relationship with an actual, good person. Intelligent. Witty. Funny. Smartass. And... just the way she just looks at me when I talk to her. Even, competent, and listening. You can only look into brainless, hormonal stares for so long before getting tired of the shallowness of it all.

"We have practically all summer to get to know her, dude. I'm not saying don't give it a try... I'm just saying take it slow," he suggests, drawing me out of my thoughts. Damn, this kid is so smart. And he knows me better than anyone, he's hands-down the person I trust the most. I nod as I give a heavy sigh.

"You're right... Damn, you're right. What would I do without you?" Sage leans against the window leisurely, with a cocky grin on his face.

"Let girls destroy your life," he states with a laugh.

I drop Sage off at his house, and drive across town to my dad's. I park out front of the trailer, and shoot a thankful prayer skyward that I was getting out of here soon as I walk down the front path. I really hate staying at my dad's. Legally, I have to for weeks at a time, and they're always the worst.

The porch door squeaks as I enter, and my dad's girlfriend is seated on a swinging bench, smoking.

"Hey, sweety," she greets me with a withered smile before taking another drag from the cigarette. I give her a nod and a polite smile as I head for the door to the house. She's always nice to me, but we never really talk much. And that's fine by me, I try to stay out of my father's life as much as I can. Speak of the devil...

His voice carries through the house as I enter and head straight for my room. He's yelling for Sherry, his girlfriend, and it sounds like they've been fighting for a while. God damnit. All he does when he comes home from work, or the bar, is sit in the living room and watch tv. And drink. And fight with everyone. I've learned to just not cross him, he will argue about anything. I will never understand why my mother was with him. She says he was different in college before he drank, but I don't think this man was ever good enough to deserve my mother. Never. But I really don't care about him at this point, I just go with it. Once I turn 18, I won't have to stay here ever again. Unless he has a kid. Then maybe I'll visit often to make sure it doesn't turn out like him, but I pray to God he doesn't father any more offspring.

Thoroughly shut into my room, I strip down out of my wet clothing and find a towel to dry myself off with before donning dry clothes. With that taken care of, I kick through the junk on the floor as I pace slowly about it, searching for my black duffel bag in the mess. After finding it, I begin to pack the things from here that I want to take for the summer trip. This includes a few of my more favored shirts and shorts that I transport between houses. I wrap my small amp in its usual traveling towel before I stow it in the bag as well, and I set my acoustic guitar in its case beside the duffel bag on my mattress that lies on the floor. After gathering a few more things, I sit down on my bed, chewing on my piercings as I rest my arms on my knees. Grimacing, I reach my hand over my left shoulder to massage the scar that lies there, the skin bumpy through my shirt. It always twinges when I'm tense.

That happens a lot here.

I pull my Droid out of my pocket to check the time, thankfully seeing that it's 5:00. I tap through my messages to find Allie's conversation, and that old, warm feeling spreads in my chest as I read down through what is there. Heart beating the slightest bit faster, I type out a message to her.

we still on for 5:30?

I read it over once, twice, before sending it off and tossing it onto the bed beside me. I lie back with my eyes closed for a moment before the smartphone buzzes.

Aaaaaabsolutely! She replies. I smirk, typing out a reply.

See you then

She doesn't reply to that, and I stand to check myself in the mirror, making sure my hair and clothing was good. After, I grab the duffel bag, heavy with the amp, and string the guitar over my shoulder before making my way out of my room. I pass the living room on my way to the kitchen.

"Roman! Where are you going?" my father's voice barks after me, and I cringe.

"A dinner with a friend. I have to pick up mom now," I call back, keeping my temper under control as he shouts through the house.

"Well thanks for letting me know," he snaps with bitter sarcasm, and a small blossom of anger flutters in my chest at his tone. I don't tell you anything. Why would I start now?

I ignore his last comment as I shuffle into my Etnies and continue on through the front door. I wave to Sherry as she chimes a goodbye-have-a-nice-dinner as I grab my skateboard off the porch on my way out. I slide my duffel bag in the bed of the truck, and set my guitar and skateboard beside it before hopping in and driving off with a heavy, relieved sigh.