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We stop with the jabs and punches and stand up straight.
“Mason, how was practice?”
“Good. I scored the winning goal,” he beams.
Dad nods. “Good job, but it’s time to get to work. I need you to show Dane how to fix that jet ski out there.”
“Again?” he complains.
I smack him on the back of the head as he steps toward the door. Dad doesn’t know that Mason’s tried to show me multiple times.
Dad’s brows lift while he stares at me. He crosses his arms over his chest with a heavy sigh. “I have a feeling this will be the last time. Won’t it, Dane?” His eyes narrow in on me.
“Yes, sir,” I answer while moving toward the door, trying my hardest to refrain from rolling my eyes.
* * *
Morning comes bright and early.I’ve slept ‘til noon all summer, so six A.M. is an unwelcome change for me.
I pull on a pair of jeans from the floor and dig through my dresser, looking for a t-shirt. Then I check myself out in the mirror. My dark hair is falling in my eyes, so I push it back before my dad sees me. He’s always on me about getting a haircut.
Rummaging around my mess, I look for my backpack, which I haven’t seen in months. Finally, I find it in the corner of the room, buried under stacks of trash and clothes. I throw it on my shoulder and head downstairs.
My dad and Mason are already up, dressed, and ready. They’re in the kitchen sitting around the unfinished bar. Mason has a bowl of cereal, and Dad sits with a cup of coffee and the newspaper.
I pour myself a cup of coffee and lean against the counter.
“You boys will have to take care of dinner for yourselves tonight. We’re breaking ground on the bar and grill today,” he tells us.
“Not it!” I shout.
Mason nods his head. “Like I’d eat anything you cook anyway.”
“Dane, while Mason is at practice, you need to finish up that jet ski. I trust that your brother showed you everything yesterday.” He doesn’t bother taking his eyes off the paper he’s reading.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on, Dad. It’s the first day of school. Can’t I be a normal kid for once and hang out with my friends?”
His back straightens, and his eyes shoot up to glare at me. He doesn’t like it when I talk back. “You can…after you finish your work. I’m not paying you for nothing.” He stands and places his cup in the sink. “Better get going. You’re going to be late.”
With that, Mason jumps into action. His bowl is in the sink and his backpack is on before I can even turn around. “Later, Dad,” he says as he runs for the door.
I shake my head and place my cup in the sink.
“It wouldn’t kill you to be a little more like him, you know?” He points in the direction Mason took off running.
I shake my head. “Well, I’m not like him. I don’t want to go to school. I don’t want to be some star soccer player. And, I don’t want your life either.” I shove past him and head to the car.
I don’t know what’s so hard for him to understand. I’m not Mason. I’m not the golden child. I’m the fuck up. I’m the one that likes to sneak out of the house, go to parties, and have a good time. I do nothing but serve as the bad example around here.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I have anger issues and an attitude problem, but I try to keep them in check. It doesn’t help when I’m constantly expected to be like my little brother. Trust me, I wish I was like him. My life would be much easier if I was, but I can’t force myself to be someone I’m not.
Mason bitches the whole way to school, worrying that we’re going to be late on our first day. When I roll into the parking lot, he jumps from the car before it’s even stopped.
“Class will still be there, you know?” I throw the car into park.
“Fuck off, Dane. I like being on time. I’m getting out of this town.” He laughs. “You’ll probably get stuck running Dad’s new bar and grill for the rest of your life.” He turns and runs toward the school.
Fucker. He’s probably right. There’s no chance I’m getting out of this town.
