Jack of Clubs (BxB)

2: Illuminated By The Eerie Neon-Teal Light

Our eyes briefly met, his hands tucked into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He was always wearing it, a red rose embroidered over his heart like an emblem that perhaps only he understood. Then our gazes broke as he went to sit beside Brian.

That was when Mrs. Whitlock began to gain the class' attention, asking for the homework that I had spent the entire night grueling over as though it meant nothing. I silently cursed the math gods, already fully aware of the low grade that was going to return to me.

I probably should have taken a different class.

The rest of the day was spent doing the bare minimum in my other classes — as I always did — and talking with Millie, because she was not only my best friend, but also my only friend. Still, I appreciated her with all of my heart. After all, she did put up with my bullshit. We had been attached to each other's side for longer than I could remember.

When Millie dropped me off after school, I found two cars in the driveway. It was at that moment that I was sorely reminded of the dreadful Tuesdays that my parents liked to partake in. I already knew precisely what scene I was going to find when I opened the door.

And I was right. As always.

My father was sitting on the couch, watching what I assumed to be a rerun of some football game. He was the definition of obsessed with the sport, having been the star player back when he was my age. Dad was the coach of a little league team at the local elementary school, as well as their gym teacher. I was just grateful that it wasn't at my school.

When he wasn't doing either of those things, he had a second job as the night shift receptionist at a membership gym in the heart of town. We didn't necessarily need extra money, he was just the type of man who could never handle sitting still for longer than he had to. Unless he was watching American football, of course.

Because then he suddenly had all the patience in the world.

I, on the other hand, absolutely did not.

Tuesdays were usually his least busy day, since he came straight home after teaching, and he didn't have to worry about the gym or coaching.

He glanced back when he heard me close the front door, nodding to me like it was a genuine greeting. I just returned it with a fleeting smile, walking past and heading straight for the kitchen. There I found my mom, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me.

"Hey, Sawyer Jay." She said, "How was school?"

"Cruel." I told her, saying the same thing that I always did whenever she asked. My hand quickly found the fridge door, ready to quell my growing hunger.

However, she immediately rolled her eyes and slapped my hand away. "No eating when I'm making dinner."

"I'm hungry."

"You can stay hungry until it's finished." Mom snapped.

She was a lot more tolerable than Dad was, though every bit as distant. Her life somehow led her to a job at the local bakery, usually helping to make the homemade goods along with her boss — who was functioning solely on the use of borrowed time given the fact that she was at least four hundred years old. Due to her bordering-on-collapsing-into-a-pile-of-dust age, Mom was forced to come into work all the time in an effort to solve whatever new problems were arising.

When she wasn't dealing with that, she was socializing to some degree. Sometimes she was hanging out with Millie's parents, or participating in the school board. Whatever it was on that particular day, she was rarely home. That was why Tuesdays were important to her, because it was the only day that her, Dad, and I were all home by the time school ended.