Noxious

6 | nothing to fear

Kyle 

I quietly pushed open the door. 

I held my breath as my eyes scanned the bedroom for any sign of my Dad. There wasn't any movement in the house. Despite how eerie it might seem, I was used to the quiet during the day. It had just been my Dad and I since Mom died. 

However, there was an occasional woman in the house because he would pick them up off the street for the night. I guess being a lawyer had its perks for the chicks. He had definitely slept with a lot of women in his lifetime and he was notorious for abandoning them. 

When I was sure the coast was clear, I hurried over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. Just as I predicted, there was a stack of perfectly lined up dollars bills waiting for me. He always kept a backup stash for whatever reason, and he never noticed when I stole a little. 

I grabbed a handful and left the room. 

I really needed money because even if I sold all the drugs in my backpack, I still owed my drug dealer for my share of it. When I first started in the back alley at school, I had told myself I wouldn't get in over my head. 

Nobody ever tells you how easily addicted you get. 

Now, I was working for my dealer to help pay up. It really didn't help that I had to put all my funds from selling drugs towards paying off that alcohol possession fine before the end of the month had passed. 

I had just folded the wad of bills in my pocket when I stopped dead in my tracks. I cringed internally as my shoes squeaked on the hardwood floor. 

Just at the end of the hallway, my Dad sat in the armchair with a mug of coffee in his hand. He glanced up with a cold gaze when he heard me. "Are you going to school?" He asked. 

I nervously gripped my backpack straps, "Yeah." 

"Good, you fucking should," He grumbled, "Did you pay your fine for being a fucking idiot?" He had made it crystal clear that he wouldn't waste a single penny on me, ever since Mom died. I got used to it because he had so much money, he never noticed. 

"Yeah." 

He only nodded and his gaze wandered elsewhere. I took a tiny deep breath, at least I had avoided a blow-up. I really had no idea why he was still home but I would never ask.

After another second of silence, I took that as my cue to leave and beelined for the front door. I was very aware of the money in my pocket, and I knew I was most likely be dead if he found out. 

But I didn't care. 

I sat down on the curb of the street in front of my house and waited for Tommy to pick me up. I could have cared less about high school. The system was fucked up anyway. But Tommy was the only reason I wasn't dropping out. He insisted that I'd have a better future with a diploma.

I doubted it. 

A few minutes later, I saw a familiar car turn onto my street. I stood up. Tommy braked to a stop in front of me and I circled the car to hop in the passenger seat. He instantly eyed my backpack as I set it down between my legs on the floor. 

"You gotta fucking stop," He said abruptly, "I can't do this anymore." 

I shot him a look as he drove. "Can't do what?" I was already feeling my high and it made me hyper-aware of his disapproving frown. He had no right to judge me, and he never had until now. What the fuck had changed?

Tommy dragged a hand down his face and then he aggressively pointed at my backpack, "That, Kyle, that right there. I can't keep pretending that I don't notice--"