Broken Pieces

I groan when the Principal's door is opened. I try to sink lower in my seat but it won't work as I can already feel his stare.

"This would be 3 fights in a week, Mr. Woods." Mr. Robertson announces to my Dad. "This is suspension."

"I am aware, now Seth let's go." my dad sneers. I sigh to myself but stand up and grab my backpack. I follow him out of the school and into his car. We sit in silence and I'm prepared for the angry words to come out of his mouth. As there is no blow by the time he parks the car in the driveway, I hop out of the truck and into the house. "And where do you think you're going?" My Dad snaps as I start to walk up to my room.

"My room." I answer. My dad glares at me, I sigh, and follow him into the kitchen. I smile at my mom when I see her sitting at the table with a coffee in her hand but my smile quickly fades when I see just how pissed off she is.

"Sit." My Dad bosses. I sit in a chair across from my Mom. "Care to explain." He huffs as he throws something on the table. I grab it and chuckle as I scan over the weed in the bag.

"I tried it once, okay? Ryan picked some up and we tried it. Dad, your kids are bound to smoke some, Emilee will end up trying some as well." I tell him as I talk about my fifteen year old sister.

"No, this isn't okay, Seth!" My Mom cries out. "Three fights in a week, really Seth?"

"You know I don't just pick up fights, Mom there were reasons."

My Dad arches an eyebrow. "Explain yourself."

"Some douchebag was making a move on Emilee, he has a player status so I roughed him a little. Yesterday was because Ryan was being picked on and today this dude thought it was okay to lift up Emilee's skirt. See, excellent reasons, Dad now may I be excused?"

"No, go get Emilee from school." He bosses. I nod and grab my car keys off the kitchen counter and head out of the door.

My Mom and Dad are I guess what you could say laid back parents, but if we get in trouble they become the 'strict parents.' They do it because I know they only want what's best for Emilee and I. I understand that. I guess I'm pretty lucky to have parents like them because not many people can say their parents don't give them the space they need.

"Those things go on your record." Emilee shares as she gets in my car.

"Well hi to you too," I grumble. "and its not like I'm going to college anyway."

Emilee looks over at me. "And why not? You still have all this year to think about it."

I shrug. "Doesn't really intrigue me."

"Suit yourself."

I guess you could say Emilee looks like my mom, well because she does. Her short and small frame, the long and wavy dark blonde hair, popping hazel eyes, skinny oval face, and her pale complexion. Then of course she has Mom's smartass attitude and smart brains.

Where as Emilee was a spitting image of my Mom, I looked like my Dad. The tall and bulky build, tan complexion, light sandy brunette hair, gray eyes with the specks of violet, and the round face. I ended up with my Dad's angry attitude as Emilee calls it but what can I say? I'm just a moody 18 year old.

As I pull into the driveway Emilee and I look at the house next to ours where there was a moving truck in the driveway.

"Someone finally bought the house." Emilee says.