Chapter Seventeen

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Parenthood.

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How do people actually choose to have children?

"Auggie! Wake your ass up right now!" I bang my fists on my brother's door, my eyes drooping with exhaustion from my long shift at the club.

I swear, I could go without sleep for weeks and still would never be as tired as I am after work. Drains the complete life from me; The elderly men sucking any energy from my veins with every bourbon order.

Those men are human Xanax.

No movement is heard on the other side of the door, not even a bustle of the bed sheets. Auggie's a deep sleeper, but he hears me alright. He's just choosing to ignore.

I have faced a variety of challenges in my life, but nothing is harder than waking August Symmes for school. Last Monday, I tried to wake him and he threatened to run away.

Understandable. I'd leave this dump too.

Though, we really need to stop threatening each other. Probably doesn't keep up our perfect family image to the nearby fly-on-the-walls.

Just smile and nod, Auggie. Fucking smile and nod.

My patience grows short, my fist pounding on the wood louder as my voice bellows, "You ready to go to Aunt Lisa's? I'll pack your shit right now!" I place my forehead on the door as a variety of mumbles are finally heard from him.

Aunt Lisa, simply put, is the scariest woman alive. She is a seventy-three year old badass who still manages to find herself in the gym as she tries to live out her dreams of becoming a professional boxer.

Give it up, Aunt Lisa. You'll never be a fucking boxer.

Last time Auggie and I saw her, she beat our asses with a rolled newspaper after we burnt pesto rigatoni. She kept yelling at us, saying we were 'good-for-nothing fucks' as the noodles continued to flame in the kitchen.

Granted, it has been eight years since we've seen her but the trauma still hits us in waves.

"Augu-" the door flies open, my body nearly falling forward as an angry Auggie scowls at me, his hair wild as his t-shirt is worn. "Can you stop? I'm not going today." He shoves past me, my head cocking to the right as I follow him into the kitchen.

" He shoves past me, my head cocking to the right as I follow him into the kitchen

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