Oh My...

40.) Pact

a/n
this chapter is dedicated to the amazing b_rabbit8m theyre dope as shit and made this awesome new cover. they have a new story out that's honestly amazing as shit and i totally recommend reading it. theyve been with this story since the beginning and stayed faithful even when i never update lol😂😂😂😂😭😭love ya dude!!! hope u like the chapter lmao

The house filled with noise despite the fact that it was only nine of us. Eight, actually; Mira went to bed an hour ago.

My mom and Katie were in the kitchen putting everything away. Jimmy and Bree were in the living room watching the TV, anxiously waiting for the moment their parents say it's time to go.

In the basement, I sat on storage boxes with Claire and Barry. We were finishing off a bottle of rum and smoking Newports. As Barry coughed out a cloud of smoke, he stared at me critically. "So, you're the Bart Simpson of the family?" He rumbled, pointing the cherry of his cigarette at me.

I cocked my head to the side. "What?"

He groaned at me like I was completely incompetent. "The black sheep! The fuck up!" He exclaimed.

Claire glowered at the large man, her jaw tightening around the butt of her cigarette. "And what makes you so great?" She seethed defensively.

I sighed. Even though Barry proved to be nothing but a rude brute, you couldn't deny the fact that he was quite intimidating--a big guy with a deadly glare. And on top of that, he was noticeably wasted; I wouldn't forgive myself if Claire got in a fight with this ogre. "Claire stop, I can-"

"This whole family is fucked up." Barry declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "A bunch'a women. Where's the men?" He looked at me, as if I furthered his point. "You wouldn't be so reckless if you had a father. A house full of women can't stand--they need a man to give order. They need a man-"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" I interrupted. All of my previous worry was pushed out the window. "Men do nothin' but fuck everything up--just look at all of history."

"You know, you're nothing but a lazy punkass bitch," Barry told me, flinging his cigarette on the concrete floor. "You ain't gonna turn out to be nothin' but a drug addicted streetwalker."

Claire shot to her feet, and while holding the neck of the rum bottle, she shattered the end of it against the wall. Barry and I both cringed back as glass and alcohol exploded around our faces. "Alex, go upstairs." She commanded.

My jaw fell. "What?"

"GO NOW!"

I've seen Claire this furious a handful of times, but it never ceases to freak me out. I dropped my cigarette and sheepishly rushed upstairs.

In the living room, Jimmy and Bree were still sitting beside each other on the couch. I quietly closed the basement door and approached them. "Hey."

Jimmy only glanced at me before returning his gaze to the TV. Bree, on the other hand, smiled. "Hi."

I sat down beside her. "Dinner was good."

"It was." She agreed.

An awkward silence fell between us. I scratched my arm uncomfortably before asking: "How can you live with your dad?" I didn't mean to be so blunt--it was the alcohol--but that still didn't mean I wasn't curious.