Wait For It by Shante` Grayer (ereader with dictionary .TXT) 📕

Wait For It! (THIS CHAPTER WAS LAST UPDATED MAY 30TH, 2014 1:20PM) 

 Chapter 1: Taking it...

My old man stumbles towards the kitchen, passing me in the dining room, making little to no effort of eye contact. I can tell he's still drunk off his ass from one of his infamous late night adventures. From the corner of my eye, I see him leaning against the door of the fridge struggling to keep his body up. He scans the fridge with his weary eyes, unable to find what he’s looking for. Then he shoots a piercing glare in my direction.

“Hey! Hey boy, did you eat ma' steak?”

“No, I didn't take your steak.” I answer trying to sound as respectful as possible. While keeping my head facing down trying not to look him in the eyes.

My father coughs up a nasty death-inducing breath and slams the fridge door shut. He takes a step towards my direction rubbing his hard-to-open eyes, scratching his rusty beard then slamming one hand on the kitchen counter.  

“You trying to be smart with me boy?” he asks.

I ignore him and continue eating my breakfast because I want to avoid another incident and not repeat what happen last time. But my father wouldn't left that happen. I developed a theory that he needs a daily dose of conflict with me just to get through his day.

“You answer me when I’m talking to you boy,” he says as he swipes his hand brushing items from the counter onto the kitchen floor, breaking whatever can be broken. I jump out of my seat with my fist clenched tight preparing for what might come.

He stares me down with eyes wild and fiery, his fist flared and clutched tight, ready for a fight. But I say nothing, I simply stare ans wait for his move.

“Now, I will ask you again boy. Did you…eat…ma’ steak?”

“No,” I say with a crackle of fear in my voice followed with a gulp.

I really didn't feel like fighting this morning, but it's not like I have the option to choose. I simply want one day to go by when home doesn’t feel like hell on earth.

“There are only two people that live in this house. And I didn’t eat it, so it must have been you,” he says carefully articulating each word.

“I didn't eat it. You came in late last night, as usual, and raided the fridge. You…you must have eaten it.”

“Why you stuttering? It’s because you’re lying, isn’t. You ate my damn steak didn’t you? Don’t you lie to me boy.”

“I didn’t -”

He tosses the coffee maker glass at me shattering it against the wall as I duck.

“You don’t get to eat in this house. Not when you eat my food and lie. But if you tell the truth, I'll forget about, and lets say I'll make you dinner tonight. How's that sound?” He says with a ****** grin.

He's lying and I knew it. He's never made me dinner, at least not since I was about eight. He told me long ago that if I can walk and talk then I was old enough to make my own damn dinner. But that was a lie too. He simply was never home to actually make me any food. He was always out getting drunk and high or hanging around his thuggish friends. I knew what he was doing, even from a young age. I've seen much more that any kid should have.

“I swear I didn't eat your steak. You came in last night and ate it, then you left." I repeated. “You probably don’t remember because you were so high last night.” I accidentally elevated my voice on that last comment.

He yells, “You calling me an idiot, boy? You don’t think I’d remember something like that. How dare you disrespect me! I'm your father! Don’t you dare talk back to me!”

“I’m not doing anything. I’m simply sitting here eating my breakfast. I was not arguing with you. You are the one who-”

He throws an empty container at me, but misses. I didn't even have to duck that time because his aim was so bad.

He stretches his hands out alongside the kitchen doorway and says with ***** annoyance,

“You, you, you. That’s all I ever hear coming out of your damn mouth. You’re always blaming me for your problems. So shut your damn mouth and get you little ass to school before I get mad. I’ll deal with you when you get back.”

I hold my tongue refraining from speaking out against my father. I'm wondering if I should be grateful he let me off easy this time. Usually, he'll throw a lot more things at me or we’ll partake in a shouting match; but luckily for me, this morning is one of those days when he was too drunk or high-as-hell to engage in any physical altercation. This time, all he is able to do is yell. So I grab my book bag and head out the door with haste and while burying anger.

Walking down this same damn street every damn morning with this same damn pent up feelings is tiresome. I'm unsure how much more of this life I can take. Every day I feel my fists becoming closer to being permanently clenched from constantly preparing myself for another fight. As long as I live with my father this is where they'll remain after every interaction with that man.

I see the school bus behind me about to turn the corner, so I book-it to the bus stop or else I'm walking for nearly an hour. I try to breathe controllably as I lean against the school bus stop pole. I can hear the kids on the bus screaming and yelling like maniacs as the bus draws near. I take the same seat about six rows down next to the window, I throw my backpack onto the floor below my seat and look out the window ignoring the usual rambunctious and ill-behave teenagers.

Aside from the usual screaming at each other, some kids throw dry and wet paper balls, some sing as if their celebrities and others shout vulgarity trying to prove how "crunk" "tough" or "ghetto" they really are. Some sleep because of the wild nights they have the night before, but the rest are like me. We either sit quietly being unacknowledged by the crowd or get picked on by them. I'm lucky enough to be among the unacknowledged.

After making a few more stops, a kid name Alexion boards the bus. He has his head face down with his hands gripped to his backpack tightly. He's the last kid to board, along with two other students, a girl and two boys. These two boys are the rowdiest of them all. Their presence reek trouble and havoc. The girl? Well, she's just a girl. She hardly ever rides the bus, but I do see her around school sometimes. Alexion usually sits anywhere anyone will allow him. Some kids don't let him sit by them, but sometimes when they do, it is usually a joke to mess with him. And today Alexion gets to sit next to me.

He barely even looks at me when he asks if the seat is taken. I actually didn't even hear his question, but I know that's what he was trying to say. I figured since obnoxiously boisterious chick whom usually sits by me didn't come today, why not?

After Alexion takes his seat, hear some of the kids moaning because I didn't join in on their little game of not giving him a seat. I'm actually the third person Alexion ask today. That's a record. He sits down with his face partially bury behind his backpack, which I noticed appeared to be new. But I didn't bother to give it a second thought.

Getting off the bus everyday is chaos. Everyone is pushing and shoving and it's not because their eager to get off to learn, but because it's simply fun to shove one another. My school isn't in a poor neighborhood, the ghetto, the rich side or anything like that, but it is known for its violence and partying. There are almost about three fights or some kind of dramatic outbreak a week. It's always about the most trivial and typical teenage things anyone would come to expect. And the only reason I am aware of any of this is because since I'm so quiet and unnoticed at school, people tend to talk and gossip around me. It's like I'm a trapped in a ghost's body.

At my locker, I witness lots of typical drama and today isn't any different. I caught wind of a couple breaking up, some nerd being tripped and a girl whispering to her best friend that she lost her virginity last night. It’s funny how much I learn about everyone else's life, but no one knows squat about mine. What's funny is the girl who's celebrating the loss of her virginity, lost it to the boy who is now breaking up with his girlfriend. I've seen them two together quite a few times. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots.

As usual, school is a bore. Nothing eventful happens, at least not to me. And my home life is unfortunately anything but boring. It seems the cards of life dealt to me are somehow tainted with permanent misfortune, and the dealer refuses to reshuffle the deck.

At lunch I sit at a table flooded with mostly girls. We don't usually talk, but they are there. I really sit with this guy name Tylin who sits across from me. He's a pretty interesting character. He's loud, always excited, and pretty funny I must admit, but I will never tell him that. He chooses to sit at this table simply because he is determined to get a girlfriend before he graduates next year. Tylin is this really tall, dorky, skinny dude with a single chest hair that he is very proud of. He reminds me of it practically every day.

"I am so close to asking Raina out, Chris. I can feel it, just a couple more run-ins and zing I got her hooked in my reigns," he says rubbing his hands together.

"You say that everyday Tylin. Simply ask her out. I'm pretty sure by now she knows you're stalking her," I say.

Tylin gives me a narrow look. "No she doesn't."

I smile and take a bite of my burger.

"I mean I'm not stalking her. I'm just letting myself stay close enough to her presence anonymously. That's different."

"That is a fancy way to describe stalking," I tease him.

"Whatever man. You're just jealous. At least I show some interest in girls or anything for that matter. You just sit there all day like a ghost. I don't want to be invisible. Just wait, once I get Raina to be my girlfriend, I'll be one of the guys who get an invitation to every huge party."

I snicker at Tylin. "What makes you think that will happen? To my observation, Raina isn't even one of those party girl types. She is more of a, 'let’s stay up all night watching all eight movies of the Harry Potter series'”.

"Don't make fun of her. She's perfect. Pure perfection." He awes.

I sip my milk then reassure Tylin, "I’m not. I'm simply saying placing her on a pedestal that you manifest in your mind will disappoint you,"

"You're so odd, Chris. Who talks like that? I know you're a straight A student, but it's still weird."

Tylin picks up his burger for a bite, then whispers to me, "Oh my god, Chris. It's Raina. Don't look, she's walking this way."

I turn around.

"No, don't look," Tylin says slapping the table.

I turn back around and continue to drink my milk.

"Alright, here's my chance. I'm going to talk to her again," Tylin says with confidence.

Raina