Finding Myself

21: Riley

I grip the steering wheel again as hard as I can. For some reason I get furious. Why do I have to go through this? It's not fair. I don't want to be afraid. This is complete bullshit.

Suddenly I feel a soft touch on my right cheek and I glance over and notice it's Quinn wiping away a tear that's rolling down my cheek. "It's okay now," she whispers reassuringly.

It's not okay. Everything is fucked up. This goddamn world is fucked up. People are fucked up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Quinn asks.

"No," I reply abruptly as I move away Quinn's hand. I don't want to talk at all now. I just want to forget about today. About all the other days. About my brother's death.

I don't dare look at Quinn, I know that with one look I'll soften up and probably start crying. I know she would comfort me as best as possible, but I don't want to break down. I just want to move on. I'm sick and tired of always breaking down.

I glance back and Mason and try to figure something out. His bedroom is on the first floor while his parent's and brother's room are on the second floor. So, if we get him in quietly no one will ask questions. The only bad thing is that he will have a nasty bruise on his face, I'll have to help him come up with something to explain to his parents.

"Can you help me carry him inside?" I ask Quinn. She nods and we both get out of the car.

I gently move Mason and he doesn't wake up. I have to shake him several more times before he groans out, "I'm up, am I late for practice?"

"Wow, he even dreams about football," Quinn comments.

"Yes, you're late. If you don't get up now you'll have to run laps," I add.

Mason immediately tries to get up and bangs his head on the roof of the car. He runs his head in pain and looks at me questionably.

"Sorry, I had to get you up somehow and I know you hate running laps," I explain to him.

Mason brushes it aside and tries to get out of the car but he almost falls out. He is still very intoxicated, so Quinn and I grab his arms and try to half drag half carry him to the house. I unlock the door quietly and open it. I check to see if the coast and clear and there is no one awake.

I go to the door and see Quinn leaning against the door looking disgusted. Mason is nowhere to be seen and I look at her. She motions to the right and when I walk closer I can see Mason puking in the bushes. Great. Just great.

I walk closer to him and rub his back and he continues to vomit. I much rather be standing next to Quinn than with Madon, the smell is putrid and the sounds are awful. I have to be a good girlfriend though, especially since he defended me today.

Once he finally stops throwing up, I grab his arm and I have to beg Quinn to help me grab his other arm. We drag him through the living room and just as we get to his room, someone is standing in the middle of the doorway.

"Hello," Mark, Mason's little brother says.

"Shit," I mumble out.

"That's a bad word and why are you dragging Mason on the floor? Is he drunk?" Mark asks.

"No, he just passed out early that's all," I say hoping he believes me. However this kid is ten years old so I don't think my lie will work.

Mark looks at me like I'm so stupid. "Sure, and how exactly did he get that bruise on his face"?

"Shit," I say again and Mark just chuckles along with Quinn.

"Who's she?" Mark asks. Pointing towards Quinn. "Is she your girlfriend?"