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"Mike! What the fuck!" Nancy yelled, grabbing the cigarette out of his hand.

"Hey! Give it back!" Mike yelled back.

"Mom! Mike is smoking!" Nancy yelled.

Mike heard Karen's footsteps run up the stairs, quickly reaching his bedroom door.

"Micheal wheeler!" She yelled at him, grabbing the box off his nightstand.

"I'm done with your shit! Get out of this house!" Karen yelled.

"So your just going me out!?" Mike yelled back.

"Well, yea! I'm kicking you out! Pack your shit!" She yelled.

"But where will I stay?" Mike asked, his vision getting blurry.

"I don't know, figure it out. I want you out in 15 minutes." She said, before slamming his door.

Mike stood in front of his door for a minute, before grabbing his backpack.

He dumped out all his school stuff, shoving different pairs of clothes in there.

He quickly put his notebook and special stuffed animal in there.

It may seem childish, but Mike couldn't sleep without it.

Mike quickly zipped up his overflowing backpack, and ran down the stairs.

He passed his dad, giving him one last glare.

His mom was at the door, holding it open.

It was still pouring outside, which was great.

He shoved past her, before grabbing the handles of his bike and riding into the road.

He knew where to go, wills house.

———————

Will was sitting in his room, tapping his pencil in his desk.

He narrowed his eyes at his math homework, before scribbling the answer down.

Will leaned back in his chair, sharply exhaling.

Will had finally finished his homework for the weekend, and now he could rest until tomorrow.

Will slid the paper in a folder, putting it neatly in his bag.

Wills has gotten a lot better on doing his homework, his grades were also pretty good.

He would still normally get nervous when his dad came, but it was a lot better then before.

Suddenly, the door bell rang, making will jump slightly.

"Will! Get the door!" Jane yelled from across the hall, looking into wills open door.

Will groaned, sliding out of his desk chair and trotting down the stairs.

Will reached the door, opening it slowly.

I dont smoke. [Byler]Where stories live. Discover now