Why are you driving on the opposite side of the road?" I ask Harry as he drives.

After the whole thing with Amber, things started to look up. My goal for tonight was to let go, and I did.

"I'm not," Harry says with a smile.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"Because you're so silly," Charlette answers for her brother. She turns around in the passenger seat and holds her hand up to give me a high five. When I try to hit her hand, I miss and we both laugh.

"Since when did my Fridays consist of me picking you two drunks up in the middle of the night?" Harry grumbles as he pulls into my driveway.

"No. We can't go here!" I yell at Harry like an insane person.

"Austin, this is your house," Harry tells me calmly. "You know, home?" He looks at me for a moment like he's trying to figure something out.

"Your face is so scrunchy and serious." I point at the lines on his face and how it has so many creases in it. "I know what you need. You need a drink!"

Harry unbuckles and gets out of the car. He then walks to the other side of the car and opens the door for me. "I think you've had enough to drink for the both of us. Come on." He grabs my arm and puts it around his neck, then secures his arm around my waist as he leads me out of the car and into standing position.

I laugh to myself about how I can barely stand on my own. Andrew is going to be so mad at me.

"Do not move until I get back, all right?" Harry tells Charlette as he half carries me to the front door.

"Do you have a key?" Harry asks once we get there, but before I can answer, the door already opens.

Andrew looks over my state and automatically knows what's going on. "You gotta be kidding," he groans. "I can take it from here, Harry."

My weight transfers to Andrew. Even when I am barely aware of my surroundings, I still don't like being around my father. I want to be mad at Harry for bringing me home in this state, but it's not his fault he doesn't know. It's not fair to blame him.

"You sure?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "I could bring him down to his room."

"I think that's the last place you should be with my drunk son." Andrew uses the derogatory tone he always uses with Harry.

When I see Harry's hurt expression, I realize I must be missing something. Sadly, my brain isn't able to process much at the moment.

"Uh." Harry looks uncomfortable. "I'll just be going. Later Austin."

Andrew readjusts me before closing the door, so that he can support me better as he walks me through the house. Without saying a word, he sets me down on a chair at the kitchen table and heads for a sink. He turns on the faucet and glares at me while I try to stay alert.

"Where's mom?" My voice is shaky.

"Sandra's out with her friends," he grumbles. Clearly, he was already in a crabby mood, and I've made it worse by coming home wasted. "She was supposed to be back a couple hours ago. Just like you."

"Your concern is always touching," I slur, folding my arms in across my chest.

He doesn't reply, just scowls at me until he notices the tap is still running and turns it off. When he starts walking toward me, I tense up. A firm hold grips my arm as he lifts me to my feet, then transfers it to the back of my neck when we reach the sink before forcing my head underwater. I struggle against him as he keeps me under.

Just when I think I am about to pass out, he brings me back to the surface. He does it again and then makes a pattern of it a couple of times before finally letting me go.

My lungs gasp for air. Water tries to go down the wrong pipe, causing me to choke.

"Dammit," I curse, running my hand through my wet hair. "What the hell?"

He wears a smug expression and crosses his arms. "Good, you're sober."

A heavy glare appears on my face.

"So, was it your friend Whittney's idea to get drunk off your ass, or did you come up with this genius plan all by yourself?" His harsh tone makes me shiver. He's one of the many who don't think highly of my friend. Andrew has always thought that Whittney was trailer trash - which is sort of true, considering he does live in a trailer park.

"I was jus-" I'm cut off right away by an all too familiar sting burning on my cheek.

"Don't dare make excuses, son." He forces the last word out like it's vile on his taste buds. "They don't get your anywhere in the real world."

"A friend on the team threw a party after we won our game, so I went," I explain, refraining from mentioning Rodney's name. His mother is my father's personal assistant, and I don't want to get him in trouble. "I don't know what the big deal is."

Andrew lets out an exasperated breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Do you have any idea what it could do to this family if you got caught? I do not need the papers talking about my delinquent son, running around causing trouble."

Most parents would give their children a lecture right about now how getting drunk could endanger them - drunk driving, alcohol poisoning, etc - but all he cares about is his stupid reputation.

"I'm not a delinquent," I growl.

"Could've fooled me."

The sound of the front door slamming and heels echoing on the marble floors signal the return of my mother. We both bring our attention to the way she half stumbles into the kitchen.

Andrew doesn't look at all happy with the way she comes in. Her dress is tight and shows her curves in a way that calls attention to all the places a married woman shouldn't be displaying so carelessly.

The evident anger on Andrew's features is no longer pointed at me, but at my mother. Curling his hands into fists, he asks her where she was all night.

"I was out." A vague answer as always.

This is not enough for someone like Andrew. If a straight answer isn't given, he will press until he's got one that he believes is the truth. There were times in the past where I told the truth, but he still called me out for being a liar.

"What happened to you?" She asks me, most likely referring to my drenched hair.

"This isn't about Austin right now, so don't change the subject." His order makes her body stiffen right away. "Do you want to explain why you are the second person to come home drunk tonight? Also, I'd like to know why exactly you dressed like that to have a 'night out with the girls'."

His expression is dark as he waits for an answer, but like usual, she keeps her mouth shut.

"Austin." Andrew's harsh eyes find mine, and my hopes that he'd keep me out of this are shot down. "Tell your mother she looks like a whore."

I look at him helplessly for a second, but his brooding eyes urge me on.

"You look like a whore," I whisper, my gaze fixed on the floor.

Sandra scoffs and I can feel the glare she's stabbing at me. "I must say, I'm impressed. I'm gone one night and you've already brainwashed our son to be your obedient little lap dog."

"Careful, Sandra," Andrew warns. "Austin knows his place in this family, and you better remember yours, and quickly - before things get ugly."

My mother's ballsy comment may have aggravated Andrew, but her whoring clothing is not forgotten. "When guys see you dressed like that in a bar with your girlfriends, what sort of message do you think that sends them?"

When she doesn't reply, he slams his fist on the counter. This seems to get her attention.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I wasn't thinking."

"You weren't thinking." Andrew repeats her words, but in a more degrading tone. "It's unbelievable that I have a wife who I have to discipline like my own child."

It's unbelieveable that he has to discipline us in the manner he does at all, but that's just how this family works, and it's never going to change.

"Did you seriously think that Amber wouldn't tell me anyway?" Sabrina didn't take the events of the previous night as well as I might have hoped.

I should have known Amber wouldn't keep her mouth shut - that little bitch is as conniving as they come.

"Are we seriously going to fight about this? It was not a big deal. We were just dancing." It's not like I was dancing with some random girl. Madison was my very first friend I ever made here in Connecticut.

"Just dancing? There's no such thing as just dancing," she shoots back, her arms crossing over her chest in annoyance.

"Rina, come on." I take a step closer, but she holds out her hand, stopping me.

"You can't keep doing things like this, Austin. I want to believe that you've turned yourself around, but I haven't been seeing much improvement. I really like you, okay? That why it's so much harder to see you take a step forward to being the person I know you can be, and then taking two steps back."

"I really like you, too." I stretch out my hand, and she doesn't push me away this time.

Our hands interlock and the grip she has on my hand tighten reassuringly. "Then stop acting like what we have can be so easily thrown away."

"I'm sorry." I pull her into a hug. I mean what I said, I really do. Being sorry is not something I'm all too familiar with, but hurting Sabrina makes my heart ache. It is unusual for me to care so much.

"Are we okay?" I ask, terrified of the answer.

"Yes, we're okay." Her answer sends a scary amount of relief through me.

These new feelings are scary, and for someone like me, they are a nightmare waiting to take hold.