"Kennedy, are you okay?" asked my mom through the door. "What happened?"
I lifted my head from my pillow and sniffed. Why didn't mom just leave me alone? I was not in the mood to talk to my mother about Bryan. He had just broken up with me moments ago. It still hurt.
"Nothing is wrong! Leave me alone!" I shouted, my voice sounded hoarse.
"Well, Megan is here to see you," she commented, opening my door.
I sat up and turned to see my best friend entering my room with a tub of ice cream. Megan was the greatest person ever. She knew how to cheer me up when I was down like today. She was shorter than me and her hair was pitch black against her pale complexion. Her eyes were a light brown and they were now laced with worry.
"Megan," I sobbed, holding out my arms.
"Oh, Ken! Hun, I'm so sorry! As soon as I got your text, I rushed right over! Cookie dough ice cream, mixed with French vanilla right here!" she exclaimed, hugging me and shoving a spoon into my hand.
My mom left the room silently. She would be listening. She couldn't resist a good sob story.
Megan questioned me on what happened. She listened intently and spooned ice cream into her mouth. When my story was over she shook her head and cursed under her breath.
"Ken, I'm going to say this and I'm going to say it because I believe that I'm right on the mark here," she warned, taking a deep breath. "I think he used that as an excuse. I think that maybe he met someone else. I'm sorry to say that, but if he really like you a lot, then he would have put up with the distance. You put up with a whole load of shit because you liked him so much. Obviously he's an asshole. May I kill him?"
"No! Megan, I think you're right, but you can't kill him. I still care about him a lot. I'm going to wait a while before I text him again. I'll ask him if he really broke up with me because we live too far and then we'll see what happens. Right now we have school to look forward to on Monday. Let me have my weekend to mope, okay?"
"Alright. I'll see you Monday, okay?"
I watched as she left my room, taking the empty ice cream tub with her. Dropping back on my bed, I stared up at the ceiling. My whole view on things was dimming. I could feel the happiness leaving me. I hated this. Just because of some stupid boy, I was feeling like a truck hit me. How weak could I possibly be? At least club rush was on Friday. I would get to do something meaningful soon.
The room was silent and it annoyed me. I reached my hand up and turned on my radio. It was already programed to my favorite radio station. The first song that came on was "White Horse" by Taylor Swift. Why did it have to play right now? I sighed and rolled over on my stomach. I took one deep breath and screamed into my pillow.
Shane was in his room when his mom yelled for him. He got up and staggered a bit. He was drunk again. Grunting, he got to the door in two staggering steps. Taking a deep breath, he headed to his mom's room.
"Yea?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Shane, I don't know what I'm going to do with you. You keep disappointing me! When are you going to stop? How much more are you going to put me through? I'm not taking it any longer. You're going to have a junior parole officer that's with you a majority of your time," she informed him, brushing her hair.
"What? A junior parole officer? Is that even a real thing?" asked Shane, slurring his words.
"You're drunk again? What is wrong with you?" she cried, throwing down her brush. "You can't go a day without begin drunk or getting high! What is wrong with you? You're doing exactly what your stupid father did! Don't waste your life like he did!"
Shane shuffled forward and cradled his mother in his arms. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger than her. Her crying made him feel guilty. Why did he hurt her like this?
"Mom, I promise I will try and stop, okay? I promise," he stated, almost whispering. "I'm sorry."
She looked up at him and shook her head. She didn't believe him. It served him right. He told her the same thing everytime. He could never seem to pull it off. Maybe this time, he could.