Sublime Forgiveness (Sublime Series Book 3)

by Charlene Zapata

  As soon as I’m done getting ready, I head to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice and some pop tarts. I get scared shitless when Joey whispers in my ear. Son of a bitch. I didn’t think anyone was up yet.

  “Another rough night?”

  “Shut the hell up. And if you say anything to mom and dad, I’ll beat your ass.”

  “Calm down loser. I’m not going to say anything. But if you think you can get away with this for much longer, you’re wrong.”

  “What are you even talking about? You don’t know a damn thing about what I do.”

  “I know you sneak out all the time and crawl back in through your window in the middle of the night. I mean, look at you. Anyone with half a brain can tell you’re hung-over.”

  “So what’s it to you anyway?”

  “Me, nothing. Other than the fact that you are my big brother. Don’t you think you should be setting some kind of example for me?”

  “Not my job, kid. That’s why you have a father.”

  “Whatever Vinny. You better run along before you get busted by mom and dad.”

  “Don’t push me, Joey. I will do whatever I want, whenever I want. And that includes kicking your ass.” But just as I say the words, I hear my parent’s bedroom door open. Shit. “You got lucky this time, punk.”

  “Yeah, whatever, big brother.”

  Damn, that kid gets on my last nerve. Was I ever that annoying at his age? I start my walk over to Tommy’s house. Whenever I leave this early, we meet up on his street corner just down the block from his house. He doesn’t live that far, just a few blocks to the east. After turning down Cedar Street to take a short cut, I can’t help but notice police lights in the distance. As I get closer, I see the Ford I hot-wired nearly two weeks ago. It looks like it was driven into a telephone poll. The entire passenger side of the car is smashed in. Damn, did I do that? I don’t remember a single thing from last night. Maybe it’s time to lay off the booze.

  I walk slowly, passing the two police officers who are talking to each other about the stolen vehicle. I try to hear exactly what they’re saying without seeming too obvious. I hear one of the officers say it’s just another stolen piece of shit to which the other guy replies with “why should they even waste their time on this part of town.”

  That’s the general consensus in the small, middle of nowhere, town I live in. Nobody gives a shit about the bad part of town. At least that attitude goes in my favor. It doesn’t look like they will be investigating anything any time soon. Probably not at all if my assumption is right. I pick up my pace as soon as I get around the corner. I just want to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.

  After passing an old warehouse and two abandoned houses, I reach the corner of Tommy’s street. I cringe when I hear what sounds like a screaming match. I would recognize Butch Becker’s thundering voice anywhere. But what surprises me is the volume at which Tommy yells back. I’ve never heard him talk to his old man like that before. Just as I’m about to start walking toward his house, Tommy comes storming out with a duffel bag over his shoulder. This can’t be good.

  “Hey man, everything alright?”

  “Not even close. I’m going to need to crash at your place for a few nights until my Dad calms down. That cool with you?”

  “Sure. So you gonna tell me what the hell happened?”

  “No.”

  Tommy and I have an understanding. We never force the other person to talk about something if they don’t want to. Maybe that’s why we’re such good friends. We know when to let things go. I walk in silence next to my best friend considering once again how fortunate I am to have the parents I do. I guess with Tommy being an only child, it puts all the pressure on him. And his mom is no help. She just cowers in the corner until the yelling stops. Even then, she does nothing to intervene for Tommy’s sake. After I hear his breathing start to even out, I decide now is a good time to change the subject.

  “So, do you know what the hell happened last night? I saw the car I stole smashed into a telephone pole this morning on my way to your house.”

  “Jesus, Vincent. You really don’t remember?”

  “No. Why? What happened?”

  “Well actually, it was pretty damn funny. You idiots were trying to run down a opossum last night. You kept taking turns driving up and down the street like a bunch of morons. I’m amazed no one called the cops. Then Dustin crashes the car into the pole and you all take off running like a bat out of hell. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.”

  “Holy shit. Is Dustin okay? It looked pretty bad.”

  “Don’t worry about dipshit. His head is harder than a bag of rocks. It didn’t even phase him. I’m sure all the alcohol numbed him up pretty good. But he probably feels like death today.”

  “That crazy bastard. Sounds like another great night to put down in the books.”

  “When are you going to open your eyes and stop pulling all these idiotic stunts? I’m all for a good time but someone could have gotten hurt. And for what? A night you can’t even remember?”

  “Hey, I don’t need a lecture from you. I get enough of that from my parents.”

  “Look, I’m not here to judge you. I just hope you realize how good you’ve got it. Your parents love and support you. All they want is better for you. My dad is only interested in living his life through mine even if it’s not what I want.”

  Tommy pats me on the shoulder before heading off to first period. He does have a point. What am I doing? What is the point if I can’t even remember what happened the night before? Oh right, because I want to forget what my future holds. I want to blur the lines of reality so that maybe, just maybe, I can get through another pointless day. As I sink down into my seat in the back row, I let the numbness take over. Fading into the background, trying not to be noticed in this world I call my life.

  The next couple of days drag on and on. Tommy refuses to let me sneak out of the house, saying that if I get caught then my parents will make him go home. So I’m trapped like a prisoner in my own room and it isn’t even because of my parents.

  I do feel kind of bad for Tommy. I had to make him a bed on the floor of my room. I would totally share my bed except it’s a tiny twin that barely holds me. Tommy tried sleeping on it once but considering he’s almost 6’5”, half his body was hanging off the end. He said the floor was more comfortable. Other than my bed, there isn’t much in my room. I have an old dresser that is falling apart and a desk from when I was like ten. I never use it because I never do homework. It’s kind of funny to see Tommy’s larger than life body hunched over my tiny desk. He is relentless about school.

  “So, how much longer do you think you will be gracing me with your presence?”

  “Why? You getting tired of me already?”

  “Not at all. Just curious.”

  “Look man, I know you’re itching to get out of the house. I just need a little more time. You cool with that?”

  “Sure. But only because you’re my best friend. Anyone else would have been gone days ago.”

  “Well, don’t I feel special.”

  “You should. It’s an honor just to call me your friend. I mean, just being associated with me lifts your social status by what? Like at least two levels. I know you can use all the help you can get with the ladies.”

  That’s when he throws a waded up piece of paper right at my face. “Get over yourself, loser. I have never and will never need your help getting girls. They’re like a moth to a flame.”

  He’s right about that. Girls do flock to him. He gets a lot more action than me and that’s saying something because girls fall all over me. But for Tommy, they beg just to get him to nod in their direction. I don’t see it but he must have something.

  My mom absolutely loves having Tommy around. He kind of makes me look bad. Always offering to help with the dishes and crap. Don’t even get me started on my dad. He just eats up all of the yes sir, no sir garbage. At least Joey seems to annoy him
just as much as he annoys me. And he does make me at least try to be a better person. But if I don’t get out of this house soon, I’m going to lose my mind.

  “Thomas, I think you should call your mother. She’s been asking about you.” My mom says this very quietly, trying not to be overheard by the rest of the family. She’s always thinking about others and I can tell she doesn’t want to embarrass Tommy by bringing up his family drama in front of everyone. I sit back, pretending I didn’t hear a word.

  “I know, Mrs. Moreno. I will. Soon.”

  “She worries about you. She loves you very much even if she doesn’t know how to show it.”

  When I don’t hear a response from Tommy, I can’t help but look up. I see my mom hugging my best friend in our tiny kitchen. She glances over in my direction, giving me her most loving smile. I have never met a woman like her in my whole life and I don’t know if I ever will. She is one of a kind.

  After another couple of nights, Tommy is finally ready to go home. We never did talk about why he got into it with his old man. I guess sometimes distance helps. As much as I wanted him to leave, I can’t help but feel lonely without him here. I can feel the urge to get away, the need to escape the monotonous routine I’ve fallen into over the last week. It’s pulling at me, begging me to break free. I know I want more out of life; I just don’t know what more there is.

  Chapter Five

  It’s the last day of the season. The first freeze of the fall has come and gone. The Weston’s are being extra nice, allowing me to cut the grass one more time even though they don’t really need it. I’m still baffled as to why they pay someone to cut their grass when they have two teenage sons. I guess when you have money, it doesn’t matter what you spend it on. Mrs. Weston asked me to come inside after I finished the yard. So now I’m awkwardly standing in the living room wondering if I’m going to get grass all over the plush rug under my feet.

  I start to look over the pictures on the mantel above the fireplace. I don’t know Sam Weston personally, but I’ve heard enough about him. He likes to date girls much younger than him. I don’t really get why because it seems like all the girls in his senior class would kill to go out with him. And most of them are much hotter than some of the girls I’ve seen him with.

  Every picture is the same. Boring picture after boring picture. Mr. and Mrs. Weston posing with their two perfect, athletic sons, both smiling back at the camera flawlessly. But when I get to the last picture on the mantel, something about the girl in the photo surprises me. Sam has his arm draped over her shoulder, showing everyone that she belongs to him. God, she’s beautiful. She’s young but there’s something about her eyes. Like she has more wisdom than any girl her age should. What the hell did Sam Weston ever do to deserve a girl like her? Before I can study her features any further, I hear a soft voice from behind me.

  “That’s Maggie. Isn’t she lovely? She and Sam have only been dating a couple of months but I really like her. So polite. Well, here is your last paycheck. We added a little extra, just a bonus for all your hard work.”

  “I really shouldn’t accept anything extra. You don’t have to do that.” I find that playing the polite, young man gets me further than being an asshole.

  “It’s no bother at all. I know you have to drive all the way across town to get here, so consider it gas money.”

  “Thank you Mrs. Weston.”

  “I assume we will see you back in the spring?”

  “Yes ma’am. As soon as the grass starts growing again, I’ll be here. Thanks again for everything.”

  After getting all my gear cleaned up and ready to be loaded into my dad’s truck, I open the envelope. Looks like I might have some money for winter after all. Rich people are clueless. Who gives a reckless teenage boy this much money? When I hear my dad’s truck pulling up to the curb, I quickly put the cash away. He’s always hounding me about saving my money. I don’t need him to know just how fortunate I am.

  “Hurry up Vincent. The taco stand closes in 15 minutes.”

  “Maybe if you helped me load up my equipment, I would be done sooner.”

  “Doctor’s orders. I can’t do any heavy lifting. Remember?”

  Convenient isn’t it. When he doesn’t want to do something he blames his health but when he wants a greasy taco, all the rules go out the window. If my mom only knew what he was eating, she might just kill him herself.

  Now that my Saturday’s are free, the partying is only going to get worse. Which means Sundays are going to be killer. If I was responsible, I wouldn’t stay out until three in the morning the night before Church but that just isn’t me. So let the fun begin. As soon as I get inside the house, I call up Dustin and Nate to see if there is anything worth doing tonight. Apparently, Justine Brewer is having a party and her parents are out of town. Perfect.

  I decide to call Tommy on the off chance that he will actually come out with us tonight. To my surprise, he jumps at the opportunity. I think the tension between him and his dad is growing day by day. Just sucks that none of us have a car. But then again, no one on our side of town really does. So we all meet up down the street from Justine’s house. It’s always better to go into these things as a group. Nobody wants to be the loser who came alone.

  As we approach the front yard, things seem promising. The music blaring from the stereo inside is actually decent and I see a cooler full of beer sitting on the front porch. The guys and I already consumed all of our private stash, so this is definitely a bonus. But I spoke too soon. Things quickly start to go downhill when I see the girl I slept with a few weeks ago at Becky Wallace’s party. She makes eye contact with me, smiling like someone hit her with the stupid stick. Next thing I know; she’s walking toward me like she wants to jump me again.

  “Hey stranger.”

  “Hey.” Girl who I slept with but don’t even know your name.

  “Want to hang out tonight? I brought my own bottle of vodka. I don’t mind sharing.”

  “Thanks but no thanks. I don’t do repeats.”

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “I think you heard me. I was crystal clear the night we met. One night, nothing more.”

  “Asshole!” Her hand reaches up to smack my face all while screaming curse word after curse word. Before I have time to react, Tommy grabs her hand just in the nick of time.

  “I don’t think you really want to do that, sweetheart. Why don’t you go find someone else to bother tonight?”

  The girl snatches her hand away from Tommy’s grasp and stomps away from us like a 2-year-old throwing a tantrum.

  “How in the world do you get yourself into these messes?” Tommy looks over at me with a smug look on his face.

  “Well, we can’t all have the guts and the glory like you do, Mr. Becker. How is it that I’ve never seen a girl try to slap you? Because I know for a fact that you sleep around way more than I do.”

  “It’s all about manners. If you treat them with respect, compliment them profusely, and tell a little white lie here and there, then you won’t find yourself in these situations.”

  “What kind of white lie? I thought honesty was the best policy.”

  “Girls love to find a guy who needs something. So exaggerate your home life. Say your dad is an alcoholic or your mom is never home. Girls always want to fix us. So I give them a reason to want to fix me but it also gives me an easy out. I can’t have a girlfriend because my home life is such a disaster. Works every time.”

  “Such a charmer.” The sad part is that his little white lies aren’t lies at all. But I don’t point that out to him.

  “Look what I just scored!” Nate comes up behind us, shouting in our ears like we’re still all the way across the room. Idiot. Tommy just gives him an annoyed glare before turning his attention back to me. I glance down and see a full bottle of Jack Daniels in his grasp.

  “Sweet. Any coke to go with it?”

  “Who the hell needs coke? I drink it straight. Don’t be a pussy, Vin
ce.”

  “I’m just joking, dumbass. Of course I drink it straight.” To tell the truth, I hate the taste of whiskey. I’d rather have beer but hard liquor definitely does the trick a whole hell of a lot faster. So I take the bottle and chug it until I think I’m about to spew. Then I pass it to Tommy. He usually declines but not tonight. He grabs the bottle and drinks just as much as me.

  “Oh shit. Someone’s going to get wasted tonight.” Sometimes I really do wish Nate would shut the hell up.

  “It’s the weekend and I’ve got nothing holding me back. Right Vince?” Tommy gives me a side ways grin, halfway to plastered already.

  “Right. Now pass that back my way before it’s all gone.”

  A little bit later in the night and a whole lot drunker, I stumble into some dickhead, accidentally knocking his beer out of his hand.

  “What the hell, man!”

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” I step a little closer to his face than I originally intended but don’t really care at this point.

  “You just wasted a perfectly good beer.”

  “I just wasted your beer? You’re the one who ran into me, asshole.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I’m sorry, did I stutter jackass?” Okay. Maybe I’ve had a little too much to drink because I think I’m turning slightly belligerent.

  “That’s it. I don’t have time for this shit. You wanna act all big and tough, let’s see what you got.”

  I, of course, throw the first punch. I hit the guy square in the jaw. But he doesn’t go down. He looks to be about a foot shorter than me but he’s stocky. He probably has a good fifty pounds on me. But I still think I can take him. Before I can take another swing, he crouches down and tackles me to the ground. What a pussy move. But now he’s got me pinned against the floor. Somehow, I manage to get one of my arms free. I put as much force as possible behind my fist. My knuckles make contact with his cheekbone. Damn, that’s going to hurt tomorrow.