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I lean against a tree by the edge of the shop, soaking up any shade I can get after being stuck out in the heat all day. “Yeah, what’s her name?” I ask, squinting against the setting sun.
“Alissa. She has this long blonde hair and a nice set of…” His sentence drops off, but he holds his hands to his chest, showing me what he means by set.
I laugh at his description. “If she’s as good looking as you say, I’m sure I’ll find her tomorrow at school.”
“Dane!” my dad sticks his head out of the shop door and yells.
I turn to look at his reddening face. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Sean. Looks like I’m in more trouble.”
Sean slaps me on the back as he laughs and walks away.
I make my way up the two steps and stand directly in front of my dad. “What did I do now?” His gray hair is neatly slicked back, and his brows are furrowed together. The wrinkles around his eyes only form when he’s mad or serious. I’m not sure which he is at this moment, but I’m assuming mad. He’s always mad at me.
“Did you finish that jet ski?” he asks with the tone of voice that cuts right through me, angering me even more.
“No, I have no idea how to fix it. You showed Mason that crap, not me.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes his head. “I showed you both at the exact same time. You,” he points his finger at me and continues, “just didn’t pay attention.”
I step around him and walk into the shop, taking a seat next to Joey behind the counter. “I’m sorry, Dad. That kind of thing just doesn’t interest me.”
He walks across the floor and places his hands on the countertop to support his weight as his eyes focus on me. “You’re going to have to get your head out of your ass, Son. What do you expect to do with the rest of your life? Your grades say you aren’t interested in college. You’re lazy around here. In fact, the only thing that seems to get you off your butt is a pretty girl in a bikini.” He motions toward the windows, showing a perfect view of the ocean. My eyes immediately follow, and they just happen to land on a hot girl in a bikini as she gets off a boat.
I smile as I watch her jump over the edge, her full chest bouncing with the action.
Suddenly, I’m smacked up side the head. “Did you hear a damn word I said?” my dad asks. He turns to see what has stolen my attention away from the ass chewing he’s in the middle of giving.
He rubs his brows and shakes his head, tired of putting up with my shit already. “Go pick up your brother from soccer practice.” As he walks back into his office, disappointment and disdain roll off of him.
I don’t move right away. I sit and take a deep breath, then rub my temples with both hands.
“He just cares about you,” Joey says.
“He sure has a funny way of showing it.” I shove off the stool and make my way to the parking lot.
Getting behind the wheel of my beat-up Mustang, I look out over the ocean. I want nothing more than to leave home, but that seems impossible. My dad’s right about me. My grades are shit. My work ethic sucks. And the only thing that gets me off my ass is a hot girl… or a party. I am a lost cause. I’m sure of it.
When I get to the school, I park the car along the fence surrounding the field. I step out and sit on the hood, watching as practice wraps up. My eyes find Mason on the field, and I watch as he steals the ball from one of his teammates and drills it perfectly into the goal. I feel like standing and cheering for the little shit — but I don’t.
A part of me has always been a tad jealous of my little brother. He makes good grades, he’s a big soccer star, and everything just seems to come so easy to him.
Nothingcomes easy to me, though. I’ve had to fight my whole life just to get the C’s and D’s I make.
The only thing that’s ever made any sense to me, is music. I picked up my first guitar when I was six and haven’t put it down since. Reading music, that’s what’s easy to me. I’ve never had any official training or lessons. Just Dan, one of Dad’s friends, showing me how to read music while drinking with my dad out on the balcony one night.
The only bad thing about that is that it’s not practical. I can’t make a living playing guitar. I know because my dad has told me time and time again.
I’m in a band, and we play a wide range of cover songs. Guns and Roses, Ozzy, and Pink Floyd to name a few. But what I really love to play is the music that I write. I love writing a song and watching as a big group of people hear it for the first time. Not to mention, girls love musicians. Yeah, the girls that throw themselves at me makes it all worth it.
The whistle blowing snaps me out of my thoughts. I shake my head, clearing it from my doomed future.
Mason jogs up to me with his bag thrown over his shoulder. At fourteen, he’s big for his age, almost as big as I am. His dark hair is soaked with sweat. He runs his hand through it, causing it to spike in all directions.
“Did you see that goal I made?” he asks with a wide grin covering his face.
“Yeah, I did. Good job!” I give him a high five as I stand from the hood of the car and make my way to the driver’s side.
Mase throws his bag into the back and takes the seat next to me. Just as I start the car, a girl I recognize from school leans against the passenger side door and bends down to look at him through the window.
