trouble
Chapter 30
Travis' Point of
View
"You aren't stoned this time." I pointed out glumly when Dylan asked me to meet him at the local diner.
It was late at night, and the place was completely empty, with the expection of the waitress, who had fallen asleep on the counter.
"Shut up." Dylan muttered, letting out a long sigh.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned over to table to find out what Dylan wanted from me this time. "Do you need more money or something?" I asked. "Because I already told you before, Dylan, I can't keep-"
"I don't need money." Dylan cut me off, shooting me a glare. "Your expectations aren't too high of me, are they?"
I clenched my jaw, suddenly feeling anger towards my adoptive brother.
"What the hell do you mean by that?" I spat under my breath. "Am I supposed to think highly of you if you're on drugs every time I see you?"
Dylan stared down at his fingers with shame, as I felt my chest heaving up and down.
I fumbled in my pocket, looking for my pack of cigarettes.
Cigarettes always eased me down and kept my life out of stress.
But then, I suddenly remembered that I made a promise to Riley that I wasn't going to smoke anymore.
I cursed under my breath, as I shut my eyes close.
Riley sure made a loyal man out of me.
"I want to come home, Travis." Dylan suddenly said so lowly under his breath, I wasn't sure if I heard him right.
I choked on my own saliva, staring at Dylan with disbelief.
Right when Dylan turned eighteen, he moved out of our house and went to crash over to one of his druggie friend's trailer, a few towns away.
The place he was staying was dangerous, and I knew from experience.
What the hell made him want to come back now?
"You want to what?" I repeated.
Dylan let out a dramatic breath of air, before he ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"I'm twenty now, Travis. My life is going no where, and I'm surviving off of the money I get for selling crack. I just want to go home and restart things."
I blinked hard, wondering what my mother and father would think of it.
A part of me thinks that Dylan would get kicked out the moment he steps in, but another part of me thinks that my parents will welcome him with opened arms.
"Crap, Dylan." I muttered. "I don't know."
Dylan gave me knowingly weak smile, before nodding slowly. "Why not?" he asked teasingly. "Is it because your new girlfriend's preoccupied your life?"
My eyes snapped to him, as I immediately thought of Riley.
"Riley isn't my girlfriend." I said quickly, shooting him a glare.
Dylan rolled his eyes. "Right, Travis." he mumbled sarcastically. "Riley is hot and single, why don't you just date her already?"
I stayed quiet, sighing down at my hands that were locked.
"Are you scared?" Dylan suddenly asked.
I held in my breath, before letting out an exaggerated breath of air.
"Petrified."
"You aren't stoned this time." I pointed out glumly when Dylan asked me to meet him at the local diner.
It was late at night, and the place was completely empty, with the expection of the waitress, who had fallen asleep on the counter.
"Shut up." Dylan muttered, letting out a long sigh.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned over to table to find out what Dylan wanted from me this time. "Do you need more money or something?" I asked. "Because I already told you before, Dylan, I can't keep-"
"I don't need money." Dylan cut me off, shooting me a glare. "Your expectations aren't too high of me, are they?"
I clenched my jaw, suddenly feeling anger towards my adoptive brother.
"What the hell do you mean by that?" I spat under my breath. "Am I supposed to think highly of you if you're on drugs every time I see you?"
Dylan stared down at his fingers with shame, as I felt my chest heaving up and down.
I fumbled in my pocket, looking for my pack of cigarettes.
Cigarettes always eased me down and kept my life out of stress.
But then, I suddenly remembered that I made a promise to Riley that I wasn't going to smoke anymore.
I cursed under my breath, as I shut my eyes close.
Riley sure made a loyal man out of me.
"I want to come home, Travis." Dylan suddenly said so lowly under his breath, I wasn't sure if I heard him right.
I choked on my own saliva, staring at Dylan with disbelief.
Right when Dylan turned eighteen, he moved out of our house and went to crash over to one of his druggie friend's trailer, a few towns away.
The place he was staying was dangerous, and I knew from experience.
What the hell made him want to come back now?
"You want to what?" I repeated.
Dylan let out a dramatic breath of air, before he ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"I'm twenty now, Travis. My life is going no where, and I'm surviving off of the money I get for selling crack. I just want to go home and restart things."
I blinked hard, wondering what my mother and father would think of it.
A part of me thinks that Dylan would get kicked out the moment he steps in, but another part of me thinks that my parents will welcome him with opened arms.
"Crap, Dylan." I muttered. "I don't know."
Dylan gave me knowingly weak smile, before nodding slowly. "Why not?" he asked teasingly. "Is it because your new girlfriend's preoccupied your life?"
My eyes snapped to him, as I immediately thought of Riley.
"Riley isn't my girlfriend." I said quickly, shooting him a glare.
Dylan rolled his eyes. "Right, Travis." he mumbled sarcastically. "Riley is hot and single, why don't you just date her already?"
I stayed quiet, sighing down at my hands that were locked.
"Are you scared?" Dylan suddenly asked.
I held in my breath, before letting out an exaggerated breath of air.
"Petrified."
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