Strings Attached

~Chapter 6~

That journal is the only thing of mum that I have left with me, besides her pictures. It makes me realize what a beast dad has been. And my bike is my only source of conveyance. I'm too lazy to use public transport. And I, for one, hate the gooey mass people leave on the seats of those public buses. Normal people usually call them 'chewing-gums'. Also, coming by a bus would horribly decrease my 'cool' factor. Hence, the bike.

Guitars, bikes, girls, booze, Math and friends. These are the little things that make my life worth living. And that's how I survive.

I have my Management textbook in my hand, and I'm slapping myself ever-so-frequently to stay awake. I can't help it if they act like drugs on me. It's a wonder how people love it! And right when I convince myself that I'm wide awake, I hear myself snore. Drat that fu**ing torture of a subject!

I hear a piercing noise bark into my ear. And when I open my treacherous eyes, it's bright outside. Sh*t! so I did fall asleep. I bolt up from my chair realizing that I'll be late for the last day of school. I promised Seth I'll be there unusually early and we'd create a ruckus in the hallways. So much for doing nonsense stuff. But, as I said, these things make my life worth living.

Nevertheless, I hastily ready myself for school. Lacing myself with deodorant and applying a coat of a nice-smelling gel onto my ever-tussled hair, I'm about to go out with my bag slung over my shoulder when Richard 'bleeping' Brooks, a.k.a. my dad's model step-son cuts me to it.

"Get out of my way, fu**er!" I snap at him. "Language, Daniyal!" my ever-so-mild dad jumps up to defend his precious bloke. "Shut up! Nobody asked you." "Education hasn't civilized you, I see," he pipes up once again. I clench my teeth and ball my hands, in order to contain my anger. I'm not in a very good mood today and his jibes might just land him in a fix.

One more word and he'd find his face disfigured in a millisecond. However, without saying another word, I'm out the door and on my bike. That was the wisest thing to do at that moment. If I'd stayed there a second more, I'd have surely done some chronic damage to somebody's person.

A sharp pang of jealousy pricks my heart as I hear my dad calling the bloke his 'son' and handing him about a hundred pounds to spend for the weekend. That could have paid so many of my debts and could render all of my expenses cleared. It kills me even more when he comes out of the house, throws me a sneer, and leaves in my dad's car. The fu**er knows I hate him through and through.

But shaking those ominous thoughts away, I start-up my bike and speed it up to reach school as fast as I can. I'm halfway through when my bike gives out. The poor thing was running on a negligible quantity of fuel since the last few days. Good thing I have some handy in a bottle I keep under my seat. I empty the bottle's contents into the fuel tank. Even then, the lubricant barely reaches the half-level mark of the blasted tank. Gosh! This is pathetic. All the more reason for Rosalyn leaving me for that nincompoop. Sadly, the barely full tank would have to do for now.

The moment I reach school, the bell for the first period goes off. Sh*t man! Now Seth will bark down my ear for coming late. Anyhow, as I near my class, I find my gang of buddies standing in the hallway. They're throwing comments on every girl who passes by. And, in return to the attention they receive, the girls flip their hair, shake their asses and winking flirtatiously, they are gone. I shake my head at their antics. These boys will never change.