The smell of fresh pizza filled my nostrils as I entered my front door, and I realized hunger pains rumbled in my gut from avoiding food all day. Upon hearing me come inside, Cecily rushed from the bedroom downstairs. Dressed in a tank top and booty shorts, she wandered into the foyer, where she found me collapsed against the sofa.

"Hey, dork. Dad was home, but he left right before you showed up. There's pepperoni and meatball pizza in the kitchen."

   I stood up, pushed past her without attention, and wandered into the kitchen, finding the pizza on the counter.

   Cecily charged in after me, pushing my chest forward. "Hey, what's your damage, douchebag?" She growled.

   I reached into the fridge, pulled out a gallon of milk, ripped open the carton, and guzzled it in a few gulps.

"Hey! I'm talking to you," she snapped. She shoved me forward again while I gulped the last milk, and my eyes drew to Cecily.

"What?" I wiped my milk mustache from my lips.

"You know I hate when you play these shitty mind games. Where were you, Aaron?"

"That's what you wanted? You could have maybe texted me of whatever and found out before. I was in religious studies or whatever shitty form of torture—"

   Cecily sighed angrily, interrupting me. "You are a piece of shit." Cecily sighed again, grabbing a slice of pizza off the counter next to her. She took a bite and cleared her throat. I put the empty carton back into the fridge.

"Since when do you attend religious studies?" She asked. Cecily took another bite of pizza. Then I plucked the slice from her fingertips and took a bite, wandering out of the room while Cecily annoyingly pursued me.

"What is wrong with you, Aaron?" She roared,

   I stopped walking and turned around, taking another bite of pizza. "There is not a damn thing wrong with me. I'm fine." I curtsied in her direction before wandering further toward the doorway. Cecily followed me again. She was an annoying, persistent bitch. "No, you're not. Do you need to go to the hospital again or—"

   I swerved to my feet, walking backward as I flipped off the bitch. Then I reached the doorway, turned around, and peeled open the door.

"Bye," I said. Then I swung open the front door and walked outside to the front porch, breathing as much fresh air as possible. It was barely a day in this boy's shoes, and already, I was not too fond of it.

✽✽✽

The bright moon hung low in the cloud-filled night sky. I wandered through the city streets, observing the many sinners that would soon be in my grasp. Sirens wailed in the distance while three teenage boys raced past me, rushing off and laughing hysterically with a purse in their hands. A group of girls ran after them in a rush to get the bag back safely.

"Lucas, you better give me my purse, or else..." I recognized Lucas as the bad boy from class. The snobby football jock who called me a pussy. It would be so much fun to torture the boy down in hell.

The boys chuckled as one boy tossed the purse at Caleb, holding it above his head, higher than his 5'4" girlfriend.

"Jump, Rachel," Caleb yelled. The boys stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and the girls jumped together, clawing at his Leatherman jacket while trying to grab the bag. Rachel's best friend, Marissa, smacked Lucas's biceps, and Lucas, taller than Caleb by a few inches, plucked the bag from Caleb's clutch and held the pack higher.

"Stop it, Lucas. She's pregnant with your kid." Marissa muttered.

Lucas chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest before bringing the bag to his girlfriend's level. "I know," He said.

Before the girls could grab the purse, Lucas and the boys played a game of hot potato, tossing the bag back and forth between one another. Without a second thought, I stepped forward.

"Come on, Lucas. Give Rachel her purse back," I said. Lucas rolled his eyes and sized me up.

"What are you going to do, Hell-boy?" He grumbled. I curled his fist, ready to punch Lucas, but something held me back. There was silence for a moment before I cowardly stepped back.

They broke into laughter. "What a joke," Rachel cooed. The boys took off around the corner as the girls chased them, and they disappeared. I stopped in front of an alleyway, spotting Jared exchanging cash with an older man. He stood there watching him as his eyes met mine. He reached into his pocket and shoved the drugs into the man's fingertips. The man wandered off down the other alleyway exit, and Jared approached.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jared growled.

I briefly glanced at my reflection in the puddle of water on the sidewalk. Jared grabbed my biceps and yanked my arm until I turned to glance at him. "Hey, I'm talking to you." He spoke. I twisted around, a sudden rage filling me. I shoved Jared, watching him smash into the water below.

"What do you want?" I roared.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jared snapped, pulling himself from the puddle.

"Fuck off," I growled at him.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong. Your sisters worried about you." Jared said. I rolled my eyes. Sure.

"Why do you care? You're an abusive, cheating asshole. You don't deserve her." I snapped.

'I know. I'm sorry." He spoke. "I'm also sorry about earlier. She thought you were dead—we both did, and we panicked. It pissed her off when she saw you were alive, but I promise she never meant to hurt you." Jared reached into his pocket and pulled out two rolled-up pieces of weed joints and a lighter before offering one to me. I slipped the joint from his fingertips and pulled it to my lips. Then Jared lit it on fire.

"Don't tell your sister I gave you one of my joints. She'll throw a bitch fit—" He warned me.

I scoffed. "Pfft. That's nothing new."

"I'm serious!" He growled. My hands shot into the air, with the joint sticking out between my lips.

"I promise I won't say a word."

"Good," He sighed, pulling the joint from his mouth as he exhaled a lung full of smoke. "You better enjoy that joint, or it's forty dollars down the fucking drain."

I puffed smoke through my teeth. "Will do," I said. Besides, what was Jared going to do about it?