Wanted

•A Drug Called Family•

{• Edited•}
~Bexley's POV~

     Some people do heroine or meth to slowly kill themselves, I have a drug called family. Don't get me wrong, I love them, but to say I'm different from the rest is an understatement. My parents say I'm most like my grandma Zane mixed with my grandpa/Uncle (I don't even understand that) Zurine. 
      "Don't go swinging that thing around!" I hear my dad say from the living room. Closing my eyes, I take one last deep breath before grabbing my bag and opening my door. The sound of my cousin Alaric and dad practically yelling at each other gives me an automatic headache.
     My mom smiles when she sees me walk into the kitchen. I grab an apple and lean against the counter. My dad gives me a quick glance and a nod. That's usually how we acknowledge each other's presence. He and I have never had a strong relationship no matter how much I wish we could.
    Ever since I was little he's kept me at arm's length, but at least was always there. Sometimes there would be nights when I would wake up crying and he would very awkwardly try to calm me down. Parenting just isn't his thing, but his issue with me has to run deeper.
    My mom has tried explaining to me why he acts the way he is with me. How he doesn't trust himself to be an active father while in a gang, especially now since he recently became Castel's, right-hand man. She's told me that he's just scared of what could happen, but he also could try just a little harder to be in my life.
    "Stop playing with a gun in my kitchen!" My mom yells, holding onto the edge of the sink. I squeeze my eyes shut as she does so, not liking loud noises. Alaric hands the weapon back to my dad. "What time will you be home?" She asks him. He sits down in one of the tall chairs.
   "I don't know," he tells her. Disappointment fills me once again, which doesn't surprise me at this point. What does surprise me is that he notices my fallen expression. "What's wrong?"
    "Remember that school dance? That father daughter thing?" I ask. My mom sets down the spoon she was cleaning and glares at my dad.
    "I forgot," he says, looking at her nervously. "I'm sorry." I nod, grabbing my bag again and throwing Alaric his car keys.
    "You're driving."
••••••

"He might be an asshole, but he's my ass-I'm not gonna finish that," Connie says, cringing at herself. She talks about Alaric as if he's actually her boyfriend...they've talked one a few times in the many years her and I have been friends. She puts herself out there for him to grab, but he's completely obvious to her many attempts.
"I still think he's gay," I tell her. She rolls her eyes, throwing her head back against the locker. I came up with the theory that he's gay when he and I were very young. There's nothing obvious about it, it's just a hunch.
"He's too hot to be gay."
"It's usually the hot ones that are," I tell her. I genuinely think that if I don't stop now she'll reach over and slap the hell out of me. It's my favorite thing to do, to tease her about Alaric. One time she sprained my ankle fighting with me at my sixteenth birthday because of it.
"Are you coming tonight?" She asks, her voice dropping a few notches. She knows how much I hate talking about my relationship with my dad, so she tries her best to not bring him up. It was her idea for me to bring the dance up to him and I thought it would be a good idea too, but we see how that turned out.
"No, my dad doesn't know when he's gonna be home," I tell her. Her face drops.
"Did you tell him about it?" I'm not surprised that she thinks I just didn't tell him, because I usually wouldn't. I hate getting my hopes up just to be let down. I know better now than to think my dad will make time for me. Sadly, if I was in the hospital, I don't think he'd even show up...and that's because it actually happened. When I was eight, I got very sick and had to stay in the hospital for two days; did he show up? For an hour, but my mom didn't leave my side. I can still remember asking my mom for him, I don't even know why I wanted him so much. Maybe I thought that he would be there for me if I was sick, but that's when I really realized I only had a mom and a man who I called dad.
"Yeah, he said he forgot," I answer. She sighs, positioning her bag on her shoulder "I could always show up myself drunk though."
"Hun, we both know you don't drink."
••••••