Heat of the night

Chapter 2

Tommy fights back tears as his mother bawls with her head in her hands. "How did I fail you?" She gasps out, looking up at him.

Tommy wants to reach out to her, and tell her that she's done nothing wrong, that his choices aren't her fault, but he can tell by the look on his dads face, that it wouldn't go over well. Surprisingly, this isn't the first time he's been in this situation. Over the last few months, lectures from his parents had become the usual thing. It was almost like a routine. Come home from school, mom either found weed, cigrarettes, or magazines with shirtless men in his drawers, or the school called, wait for dad to get home, get yelled at. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.  

"Son, your mom and I need to talk." David says firmly after a few moments. "Go up to your room."

Tommy wants  to stay, but his legs carry him up the stairs anyways. Out of habit, he glances into Athena's room. She's sitting on her bed, looking dead at him. Even she makes him feel guilty. 

Everybody makes him feel guilty for everything. His dad wants him to be structured and join the military, but every time Tommy brings up the fact that he just wants to drum and live life, David flips out and it always ends in argument. It seems like everything that Tommy likes to do, is tearing his family apart. He just wants to live his life, and it's like this place is stifling him. All he wants to do is smoke some weed and play some drums, and everybody looks at him like he's John Wayne Gacy.

"Voula, an old coworker of mine, told me about a program...of sorts, that he sent his son to after he started acting out." David says tentatively, taking her hand in his and looking at her puffy eyes from crying.

"We're not sending him away!" Her voice is sharp and loud, as she narrows her eyes at David.

"Listen to me-"

"NO!"

"WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" David slams his fists on the coffee table, breathing heavily. 

She looks at him, and he can already see the tears beginning to well up in her eyes again. She still thinks of Tommy as her rainbow baby, her little boy, and David wants her to understand that now, he's an asshole teen. He's out of control, and David will be damned if he'll let his son go down this path and make a fool of himself, and his father too. Tommy constantly talks about dropping out of his high school, joining a band, and David can't even stand the thought of that. His son will get a normal job.

Tommy, unbeknownst to his parents, is listening in from the stairway, heart dropping into his feet at the thought of being sent to some fucking stuffy school or something.

"It's called River Fork Ranch, it's in Utah, they teach the value of hard work." David continues, handing Voula a pamphlet. "Just take a look."

"Oh fuck." Tommy moans to himself, putting his head in his hands and running his fingers through his hair. At this, David's head snaps toward the stairs, and Tommy scrambles, back to his room. Plopping on his bed, he stares up at the Black Sabbath poster hanging opposite his bed. Even though he fucks up, would his parents really send him to a ranch? He's not that bad.

Right?

Maybe if his parents think he's that bad...maybe he should act that way.

Tommy slams his head into his pillow, wanting to scream, wanting to cry, and fighting the urge to shriek. This better not be happening. This cannot happen. He sits up again, and slips his shoes back on. He stomps past his parents, and none of them say anything, yet, he feels his moms eyes, watching him, following, and waiting. He's so fucked. Tommy thinks of just leaving, for a moment, but then decides against it and continues on his path to the garage to let off some steam. 

He places himself behind his drum kit, and raises the stool a little bit, before grabbing his sticks and sitting down to play.

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It's been a few days since the initial altercation between him and his parents, and weirdly enough, nothing has happened. Nobody has mentioned anything about any ranches, and he's been careful with his..."habits". Which means basically, giving most of his stash to his friend James, who he's currently meeting up with in the bathroom. 

He takes a puff, and hands the blunt to James, leaning back against the bathroom stall and slowly letting his breath out. "So, did your parents say anything else about that ranch shit?" James asks, passing it back.

"Nah, I think they weren't that serious about it." Tommy shrugs. "They wouldn't do that shit to me."

James shrugs too. "I dunno man, from the way you were talking, it seems like  they were actually pretty damn serious.  

"Pfft." 

After finishing up, Tommy reaches into his backpack for a heavy body spray, and spritzes generously to try and mask  the weed smell. He plops the spray back into his backpack, and pulls his shirt up to his nose to see if you could possibly smell the weed.

Deciding that you can't, he heads back to his classroom and plops down beside Laurie. She gives him a sly smile, and he just groans and looks away,  briefly glancing up at the board to see what they're doing. And he's immediately lost again, the long, complicated equation, scrawling across the board like a mess of number vomit. He drums his fingers on his notebook for a moment, before deciding not to even try taking notes. He can never read his handwriting when he comes down from being high anyways.

As much as he tries to pay attention, his brain has other ideas, and he drifts away, to a hazy dream-like state. He doesn't even pay attention as the classroom door creaks open, and the other students, desperate for something other than math, clamor to see who it is. The person in question, is the secretary, who  calls out Tommy's name. He doesn't notice at first, staring at the crack in the wall. "Tommy, Tommy." Laurie nudges him in the ribs.

"Yeah?" He snaps his head toward her, still feeling dazed.

"The secretary just said that your parents are here to get you." She whispers.

Had he not been so high, Tommy should have known exactly what was about to take place, but, he follows the secretary down the hall, like the witless lamb, being led to a slaughter. The hallway seems extraordinarily long today, and he fumbles more than once, probably giving his current state away. She opens the office door for him, and he walks in on his dad, holding a duffle bag.