"Mark, this constant arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. Just don't do it."
"I don't need your permission to do things," you growl, shrugging on your jacket. Its a week after Troy's withdrawal episode, and he found the OxyContin that you hid.
You gave up. Maybe next time. You can't deal with an addict who begs.
You are going to go out and do something probably stupid with your friends.
Troy doesn't want you to, but what the hell does someone doing drugs think they can tell anyone? He's just angry because he wants to spend time with you all the time, like a clingy bitch.
Technically, you're running away, but you can't say that. A nicer term is hanging out.
"Brother..." he starts, exasperated.
"Fuck off. It isn't your business, what I do in my spare time instead of taking care of your sorry, unappreciative ass. Go watch a soap opera and eat out of a tub of ice cream," you snap, picking your skateboard off the ground and pocketing your iPod.
You slam the door on your way out, to no avail. Troy opens the door behind you, and you hear your mother complaining about the door. He grabs your arm, and you push his hand off. You turn to face him, flip him the bird, and skate away.
You're about to go off the handle. No fancy flips or anything, just a suicidal nosedive straight down. Zero points. Eat shit.
"Mark! Please, just listen to me for once!" He yells after you, like it'll make a difference. You put your headphones in and turn on some hard rock n roll. You don't know if he yells after that.
Your phone vibrates after you escape the sight of the house. You casually take it out of your pocket and read your text.
we still on 4 2nite? ready 2 grind & break?
yeah man, tell the others that we're definitely gonna need some bandages. we rowdy today. blow off steam. no grudges for smudges.
no tech shatters today, and i fuckin mean it. last time was ridic.
You still think your shorthand for things is stupid, but it works. Basically, you guys are going to break things, get into fights, and not get angry about getting hurt. Also, phones and other valuables are going into a safe spot. Last time really was ridiculous, you got glass into your hand and had to get a new phone.
Your phone vibrates again.
Bitchtit Twin (5:28pm)
Don't go out there and get hurt. Come back home.
I mean it.
can't, i got responsibilities other than your delicate sensibilities.
You nearly turn off your phone, but decide against it. You decide not to open his texts. If he won't listen to you, you're not going to give him more than he gives you.
You do have a bad feeling about today, though. You guess you'll be a bit more careful than usual.
The abandoned lot/construction site serves as a great meet-up spot. Andy claps your back, and the rest of your group trickles in. The games begin.
By the time all of your stuff is securely 10 feet in the air and hidden, you forget about Troy's desperate look and his hand on your arm. You forget about the anguish in his tone, the anger in his movements.
You ignore how something feels all wrong.
YOU ARE READING
Seventeen Seconds (And I'm Over It)Teen Fiction
A few months before a big accident, Mark lives his life like he always does: forgets the world and does what he wants. Before he makes the biggest mistake of his life, he was just a teenager trying to live in a world that loved his twin brother, Tr...