The Boy's of Westbrook

~Betrayed~ Chapter IV

Chapter IV

Second of August...

The morning went by uneventful. Rubio ate some oatmeal, ran his usual morning routine, and showered after. He ran into his dad and they exchanged pleasantries in passing. Rubio managed to read some but his phone buzzed over the by dresser. He forgot he'd left it there late last night after being dropped off.

When he went to answer it, Eric answered just as the line clicked. "Hello? Did I call the right number? This is you Rubes right?"

"Eric? Yeah it's me? Are you ok? You sound awful."

Eric was silent for moment but heard movement. A door closed before Eric struggled with his words. "Yes and no. Got into another huge fight with my dad again."

Rubio didn't have to be psychic to know about what. Eric sniffed, lightly so, but obviously needed a moment before unloading whatever it was bothering him.

"I still think, that sometimes my dad wants me here." Silent breaths grew into what sounded like sobs.

Rubio felt himself lean forward, the book in his hands long forgotten. "What? Are you sure? Do you need me to come pick you up?"

It sounded like Eric coughed a couple of times.

"Eric I hate to drag you through it all again but you need to tell me everything." Nothing. No reply. "Eric, like it or not, I'm coming over." If anything, this was somewhat a blessing in disguise. Rubio could use his energy towards something useful, rather opposed to lounging around the house in a pity party. Last night still stung. A lot.

Rubio expected Eric to protest, when he didn't, he asked once more if Eric was ok. Eric sniffed once more but Rubio was sure Eric was staying silent to avoid breaking down. That... seemed to run in the family. So Rubio immediately understood and didn't question it.

As he walked out of his room, phone pressed to his ear, he used his other ear as well as both eyes for any sign of his dad. He figured in a moment like this, Eric would want to be alone, to have privacy. Rubio could respect that.

When there was no sign of another house occupant, Rubio rushed about, finally remembering he needed a shirt. "I'll call you when I get close ok?"

"Ok."

At least he sounded better. The line went dead and Rubio backtracked to his room. It was still warm out and he hardly cared what anyone would think, so he threw on a clean shirt. It was white, which didn't clash too badly with his black basketball shorts. Oddly enough, it was the very same shirt Damien lent to him.

Rubio shook his head to shake out the sad memories from the day he first wore this shirt.

He grabbed his keys on the way out and made sure to call Eric when he got close. Eric still didn't sound all that great, his throat still sounded thick. A brown truck with a white cap on the back was in the driveway meaning Rubio's uncle was still there. If Rubio already knew very little about Eric, he knew even less about his uncle.

Eric's dad was someone Rubio only saw. They never held a full conversation before. Rubio only had these detached memories of seeing the man on Christmas or whenever the family got together. A wedding, a funeral, the yearly reunions, nothing seemed to matter or stick out to him. He never bonded with the man. No one really did but the other uncles. They were brothers after all.

Eric answered quickly stating that he could see Rubio. The front door opened. It was a two story house with white shutters and a plain yard. Unlike most other houses that had families of three or more, those houses also had wives. Those wives were usually the ones responsible for decorating the yard with all kinds of flower beds. The house Rubio was parked before, was void of all that. It was kind of depressing now that Rubio had finally gotten a good look at it. At least his house had nicely trimmed hedges by the front windows.