Manipulation.
It was a simple word found in any dictionary discarded on the floor or in a classroom, or on the floor of a classroom.
A word not commonly used out of context but so typically portrayed in our everyday lives. A noun not really discussed in the English language but understood by all, understood by me.
"Do you really have to drink while driving?" Frank asked, annoyed. I shrugged, taking another long swig from the half empty beer bottle I brought from the motel this morning.
"And do you really have to get on my nerves so early in the day?" I countered, not taking my eyes off of the red traffic lights in front of me.
I returned the bottle back into the cup holder and smiled crudely at the soon-to-be-adult. "You can always drive if you want," I suggested in a sweet yet sarcastic tone.
"You know I don't have a driver's license, Gee," He sighed, resting his head back on the head rest.
"I know, and until you do, try to not get me pissed and maybe shut the hell up while I'm driving, good? Good." I snapped, putting pressure on the gas as soon as the light switched to green.
Frank was silent, but unsettled. Annoyed by my sudden outburst yet quiet. Probably silently fuming? Who knows.
All I knew was that this whole trip was stressing me the fuck out and I didn't need someone's constant judgment adding to the mix.
"I'm sorry," I heard his quiet voice utter and I nodded in acknowledgement. "It's okay, just please don't annoy me, I'm really stressed today,"
"Alright," was his simple reply.
The ride was silent. Not much of a tensed silence but that of reflection.
I had a billion things on my mind to worry about. Like not getting ambushed on the way to New York and trying to get Frank justice for his Father's murder.
Not really something to just discuss over tea, or in a car over someone's constant whines.
"I'm hungry," Frank stated an hour later. I checked my watch and decided it was probably a good time to stop for some food.
My GPS had other plans.
"Ugh, the only fast food joint that's close by is fucking McDonald's," I grimaced but that only made Frank's eyes to light up.
"Fuck yes, I could use a happy meal right now," He said and I rolled my eyes before checking the GPS again.
"We're going to a real restaurant, not a health cemetery," I stated with an air of finalty.
"Chipotle is about half an hour from where we are. I could really use a quesos right now," I said, taking a turn.
Frank chewed on his bottom lip before reaching for my school bag and searching its contents before fishing out a KitKat.
"Score," He cheered, tearing off the wrapper with his teeth and taking a hungry bite of the chocolate bar.
I don't know why that simple action turned me on, but it did.
Now I had a growing problem in my pants. The sounds Frank was making while devouring the candy bar wasn't helping matters either and I made a quick stop at a nearby gas station.
"I thought we just bought gas ten minutes ago?" Frank noted, licking chocolate off his fingers.
I didn't reply, I only tore off my seat belt and rushed into the building, looking like a disturbed individual before I found a bathroom.
Moments later I emerged from the store, feeling relieved. Frank gave me a funny look as I got back into the car.
"Don't," I warned and he only grinned like the fucking Grinch.
The little fucker.
