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Same Shit, Different House
"Damn it, Lyndon. Where'd you put my weed?"
The angry words of my brother are immediately followed with the motion of my door swinging open, door knob slamming harshly into the wall. Annoyance floods me right after, the sight of Noah's face raising it higher.
"Hello, watch the wall! We haven't even been here a whole day and you already wanna wreck shit?"
He ignores my words, choosing to storm past my sitting form on the floor and start ransacking the room. I don't particularly care for the place. I can't even find it in myself to call it mine, no matter how nice it is. Mom gave me the biggest room out of us all, saying she hoped it would make me less angry about moving, but I suspect she offered it to Knox first and he declined.
As Noah shuffles around the room with his dirty sneakers, I keep my mouth shut, not caring for the rug, but the minute he starts ripping open previously sealed boxes and throwing my clothes on the floor, I snap.
"What the fuck?" I shout, reaching for the nearest object and chucking it his way.
He dodges the hairbrush, barely, and turns around, scowl present on his face. "The weed, Lyndon," he seethes.
I merely shrug my shoulders, trying to remain nonchalant, though it's hard to do when I just want to laugh at his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Total lie. I have it hidden somewhere he'll never find, having made it my mission to find a hiding spot before unpacking a single box of mine.
While Mom and the boys took a tour of the place, I decided to go my own way, hoping to find some clue as to why we moved back. It seems dumb to think Dad would have left something like that out in plain sight, but I was desperate. I don't want to be here, and I don't want to see him. Finding any piece of information that can get us back to Florida is my only hope.
Dad won't be back for another day, conveniently going away for business the weekend we arrive. Maybe he's avoiding me, just as I'm avoiding him. Mom did always say we were most alike.
God, what a fucking insult that is.
But, if that's true and we are alike, than anything he's done wrong that caused Mom to follow him here won't be lying around the house. He'd have taken care of it, he wouldn't allow someone else to find out and have the opportunity to hold it over his head.
I'm dragged away from my hatred for my father by a force, and it takes me two seconds to realize Noah's thrown the hairbrush back at me. It takes me three seconds to jump up from the floor and tackle him to the ground.
The element of surprise helps me accomplish taking him down, but the moment he's not caught off guard, I know I'm dead. After letting his head hit the box behind him, I push off of him and run out of the room.
Unfortunately, I run right into Knox, forehead coming right into contact with his boney chin.
"Ow!" I squeal, having not expected someone to be standing right outside my door. Definitely wouldn't have been running so fucking fast. "Why were you in my way?"
He rubs his chin, before shoving my shoulder, sending me a few steps back. "I was walking down the hallway, just minding my business, as usual. Why were you running like a child?"
You'd think Knox was the older one with the way he speaks to me, well, tries speaking to me.
"Excuse me?" I draw out, pulling my head back. "I'm the child here? Not the grown ass fourteen year old who insists on having his mommy scratch his back when he's tired?"
YOU ARE READING
High School Treachery | ✓
Teen Fiction"The best defense against the treacherous is treachery." In Arlin Preparatory High School, where the students seem to live by this code, Lyndon Prince has become the new, easy target during her first week as a transfer student. Lyndon's first and la...
