The Worst Drug

•Public School•

{•Unedited•}
~Idris's POV~

"He hasn't said one word to either of us," Serene, my adoptive mother, whispers to Manny, my adoptive father, in the front seat. Nothings felt weirder than being able to say "adoptive mother and father." It seems wrong on my tongue. The situation couldn't have been more ridiculous. They adopted me before I got sentenced to three years in prison and I never knew until a few weeks ago. The whole time I was in there they tried visiting, but knowing I had no family or friends, I never went to talk to them. To say the very least, I was shocked when my lawyer told me I had been adopted.
I've also never felt more out of place. Their clothes are nice, probably freshly ironed, with a nice car, that's saying way more than what I'm used to. I grew up around poverty, but hard work. I had my brother by my side until he passed away the year I went to prison, that's what sent me to my breaking point. By the time I was thirteen I started smoking weed with the older kids to feel cool, then that developed in other things like Heroin. I tried various assortments of drugs, combined them, I should be fucking dead. All this picket white fences every corner shit isn't normal to me. Normal is seeing more people on bikes than cars, and more worn out clothes than designer.
"I don't know what to say until we get to the house. Just wait twenty minutes," he whispers back to her, reaching over and taking her hand in his. That's also something I never seen growing up or in life. My birth dad was abusive to my mom, and in every foster home I would be in, the foster parents would always be very religious and refused to touch each other hardly at all. The only memories of delicate, careful, affectionate actions I have are from books I read in prison. Don't get on me about it, I read what I could get my hands on and that for some reason YA sometimes stuck out to me. Of course, I would always find a way to hide the books from my cell mates to avoid harassment.
"May the lord be with us." May he be.
••••••
~Corvina's POV~

"I still don't know how I feel about it. It could be too much for her. It's mild, but we don't want it getting worse," my mom tells my dad. I've been sitting at the bay window we have in the dining room that looks out to the front yard. I can only catch bits and pieces of their conversation, all my focus being on outside, everything zoned out around me.
     Last night was...strange so I didn't get much sleep between my dad and step dad fighting and going back home with my mom at one in the morning. She never gave me a full explanation as to what happened and I didn't press the topic. I figured that if it was important enough she would tell me.
     I couldn't hear much of what my dads were saying yesterday but I know it was about my mom. Atticus has never been a fan of their close bond. I know very little about the history between my parents, but I know what I need to.
I flatten my legs out, resting my head against the wall. They don't think I've noticed, but they've been arguing with each other about me attending public school for my senior year. Ever since kindergarten I was homeschooled because I couldn't handle it. It was my dad's idea for me to go, and I don't see why that would be bad for me. It would be good for me to have more social interaction, although, it will scare the shiz nitz out of me. I want to learn how others interact with each other outside of my family. My only friend has ever been my younger cousin Adonis, and even that is hard for me.
"I think she's ready," my dad says, glaring daggers at Atticus. I'm surprised he came here this morning after last night. There's a tension between the two, but thankfully neither have cracked. I'm sure with Uncle Alaric here he will break one of them. I finally turn my head towards them, setting my focus on them to concentrate on their conversation. "She's been doing a lot better with carrying on conversations and focusing on things."
"Yes, but that's all with people she knows; these would be complete strangers, which we know she freezes around. The hallways, Zav, that's the loudest part of a school; what happens if it triggers her? People are going to make their insulting comments, it always happens. What if someone says or does something and she can't defend herself?"
Is this something in supposed to be fearing as greatly as she is? She sees happy about it the last time we talked. I thought this would be a good idea from the way my dad spoke about it. I'm used to mean people, but are they really worse there? What happens in hallways? Should I just stay home for school? She never worries so much about anything, which makes me second guess what I thought I wanted.
"Bex, I mean she can defend herself if anything were to happen, we all know that," Atticus, my step dad, says. "Plus, she has me on speed dial."
"Oh, so the great 'ol amazing cop can save the day? You can't even do your job right," my dad tells him, gesturing to his older brother with with his hand. My eyes widen as the weird bracelet on his wrist almost flings off.
"I do my job amazingly," he says, rolling his eyes. They don't have the friendliest of relationships. Being that my mom is married to Atticus, but his brother, Zavian, is my birth father, things have always been awkward for them. Things to me seem normal.
"If you're a cop and do your job so well, why haven't you arrested my dad? My grandpa? Or uncle Alaric? Or Uncle Dion? Or Uncle Nava?" All eyes go from me to him. He looks around, not saying anything, his lips pressed together in a hard line.
"If he won't answer, I will. Your mom pussy whipped him," my dad says. A gasp leaves my moms mouth beside me, walking over to me with her arms crossed. I've never heard of that before in my life. The word, yes, gross unless it's an actual cat, but not whatever he's talking about.
"Pussy whip?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.
"Don't say that," everyone in the room tells me. I look down, suddenly uncomfortable. It's a common feeling for me, to get uncomfortable when I accidentally say the wrong thing. They're my family, and they say they don't judge me, but I can't help the feeling I get.
"Why don't we just go to her and ask how she feels?" My dad suggests. No, I don't like that. Most people might like this type of control, but I hate making decisions. If I make one I think about it over and over again for the next week, wondering if I choose the right thing.
"I already said I was going," I tell them. My mom side eyes my step-dad, taking a deep breath. "You know I don't like changing things once it's been done." The first day of school is literally tomorrow and they want to have this conversation at the very last minute. The school already has all my information and I know where to go when I first arrive.
"I know, I'm just trying to make sure that this is what's right for you," she says. Atticus doesn't want me going either, but he's slowly become more adjust to the idea. He knows that there's no turning back at this point unlike my mom.
"You always tell me I know what's best for myself," I say. Her shoulders slump. "I think I can do it."
•••••