New years. New discoveries

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Stuck at another new years party with my step dad and my mom. I don't know why they always drag me to their party's. This is the 3rd one tonight. Each one of them is the same as the last. We get there. They leave to go say hi to their friends. They tell me to stay put. I don't because I just turned 17 on July 14 and they need to stop bossing me around as if i were a toddler. People offer me beer. I deny because I'm not stupid, and I'll probably be the one driving my parents back home. I hear music and I can't help myself so I walk towards it. I end up In the middle of the dance floor finally enjoying myself then I hear my now drunk, stepfather, Larry, yelling my name (and some profanities). Telling me it's time to go. I get in the car furious and slam the door. My step father screeches from the back seat, "Why the hell are you slamming doors!?!" I calmly turn around and reply, "Its my car and I can do whatever I please with it." My slightly tipsy mother slurs, "Brian that is no way to speak to your father you hear me!" Next thing I know, they're swapping salvia in the back seat of my Mercedes. In disgust I press the gas and drive home.

Few days later.

My sister, Brittany, finally came back from her winter camp trip. God I missed her. She's only 13 I don't understand why my step father convinced my mom to let her go. She could have gotten hurt. He's just trying to get rid of us. He thinks just because he marries my mom he can just boss us around. We were perfectly fine without him.

*Flashback*

14 year old Brian with 10 year old Brittany sits in front of a small cable tv on a hot summer day.

Brian: Britt can you go get me another ice pop.

Brittany: But mom said we could only have two each.

Brian: You're not gonna tell are you?

Brittany: Maybe, maybe not. if you get another one you're gonna have to share it with me.

Brian: No way!

Brittany: Mom!! Brian's taking another ice pop!!!!

Brian: Stop being a snitch and stop being so loud she's sleeping!!

I pushed her on the floor and she started crying. Typical. Right as she hit the ground I hear a door open. Thinking that its my mom. I go to comfort Brittany. But it's not my mom. It's a guy that walks out of my mom's room with nothing but a wife-beater and some cargos on. His eyes flicker back and forth between me and my sister. Then he just curses under his breath and walks out the door slamming it behind him. I run into my mother's room to see her sitting on the edge of her bed silently sobbing. I run to her and say no words and just wrap my arms around her. My sister soon follows and does the same. we sit their fir a while. No words spoken. Just silence and unison breathing. At that moment, I swore I would never let her get hurt. EVER.

*end of flashback*

Obviously we weren't perfectly fine. But we were doing all right. That night a lot changed for our small family of three. Mom insisted that we move from our small town in Arizona, to Nevada. Don't ask me why but she just had a good feeling about it. Less than a year later she met Larry, my now stepfather. She met him at a night club. Perfect place to meet the man of your dreams right. Don't get me wrong, Larry is a pretty cool guy, for now. But that's the thing. They all started out nice. A year after that they got married. No questions asked. He had the nerve to make me his best man. I hardly knew him, but my mom talks to him as if they knew each other for years. I think he makes her happy and that's all I care about.

Brittany is 13 now, and that scares the crap out of me. I know how guys can be when they get that age. All they think about is one thing. And they want it from my sister. My baby girl!! I don't even think about that kind of stuff yet. I'm not like most guys. Not to be self absorbed but I think I'm a pretty handsome guy. I have jet black hair that barely covers my forehead. Piercing blue eyes that sometimes turn grey. I work out so I'm not flabby. It's just that, most girls don't like a guy who keeps to himself. Well not the ones that I've met. I just stay away all together.
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