The Drug Years

Lacey's Point of View
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We all stood up and walked into the kitchen. The table, located in the center of the room, was square and it could seat, at the most, six people. My mother and father took the end seats and I sat on the left side, while Quinton sat opposite me.

The food was placed into bowls that were set in the middle of the table, so that no one had to get up for anything. For dinner, all we could drink was water and nothing else. It was one of my parents weird rules that was established when I was five.

I reached for the green beans that was sitting right in front of me and began to pile them onto my plate.

"Lacey! We must say grace first," my mother chided, even though we never say grace. Ever.

I rolled my eyes and bowed my head as my mother rambled on for a few minutes about something, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy trying to fight off my hunger.

"...Amen," my mother concluded finally.

I continued to grab the food and pile it onto my plate. I even decided to try some of my mother's roast beef.

I took a small bite of it, only to be surprised that it was actually really good. Never in my entire seventeen years of life had there been something so good as this. I looked at my father and even he looked surprised. "This is good," I complimented.

"Thanks sweetie," my mother replied with a smile.

"So Quinton, what are your plans after high school?" My mother questioned.

"I haven't really thought about it to be honest," he replied. "I've still got a year to figure it out."

"So you're a Junior too?" My father asked. "I would have thought you were older."

"Yes, I'm only seventeen."

"When's your birthday?" My mother chimed in.

"March seventeenth," he replied before taking a bite of beef.

One good thing about this dinner was that he may not answer my questions, but he certainly answered my parents questions, and that led me to find out more about this boy.

"Oh, so you're still older," my mother realized, "but only by a few months. Lacey's birthday is in June."

"June eighteenth to be exact," I replied.

"Tell me what your parents do," my mother pushed.

I saw a pained expression cross Quinton's features before he covered it up. "Uh, my mother owns a flower shop, and my dad works at a law firm."

"Oh, that sounds nice," she replied. "I've always dreamed of opening my own shop." She looked up to the ceiling as if swept up into a daydream.

"Do they work here in town?" My father asked maybe seeing if he could go visit them at some point.

"No, they work an hour away," Quinton stated.

I looked at him and studied him feverishly trying to figure out if this was the truth. He must have noticed because he met my gaze and nodded his head.

"Any siblings?" My father asked.

"Yes, sir. I have a younger sister," he replied.

"How young?"

"She will be ten in four days," Quinton said softly.

Then it hit me. He was missing out on the one person from his past that he still cared for. He wouldn't get to see her grow up.

"Aw, is she having a huge party?" My mother asked.

"I wouldn't know. I'm never around enough to know," he replied.

I knew I had to change the subject before things got too personal. "What's your favorite color?" I blurted. It was the first question that came to mind, but it was still something I didn't know about him.

"Green," he replied.

"Mine is purple," I stated. "I also like lime green and blue."

"What's your sister's name?" My mother asked completely ignoring my subject change.

"Kiersten Skylar Ackerman."

"Aw that's a cute name."

"She usually goes by Skylar or Kierst. It depends on who it is. To the general public she goes by Skylar."

"Then who calls her Kierst?" My mother asked curiously.

"I do," he replied. "She doesn't let anyone else call her that, and if they do, she won't respond to it."

"Can I be excused?" I asked politely. I couldn't take this. He missed his family and there was nothing I could do to help him. His sister was turning ten soon and he would miss it. I felt like he got the short end of the straw from life and was screwed over because of it.

"Ok," my mother said confused. "But don't you want to finish eating?"

"I'm full," I lied before scooting the chair back and then walking off to my room, closing the door as I walked in. I bypassed everything and went straight into my bathroom, closing that door too.

I sat on the floor against the sink thinking about everything bad that has ever happened to me. Even with all of it combined, it didn't add up to what Quinton went through on a daily basis.

"What's wrong Ace?" Quinton asked opening the door to the bathroom.

"Nothing," I replied still sitting with my knees pulled up to my chest.

He closed the door and sat down next to me.

"Where do my parents think you are?" I asked.

"Talking to you," he replied wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "So what's wrong?"

"How can you stand it?" I asked looking up at him my gaze meeting his.

He sighed before saying, "Honestly I don't know. I guess it's because it has been so long since I have seen or talked to my family that I don't really think about it anymore. I just sort of shove the feelings away. Drugs help too."

I shook my head. "You and your drugs. Why can't you just see that they are bad for you?"

"Of course I know they are bad, but that won't stop two years of abusing the stuff. It's a hard habit to break and I'm fine with where I am. I'm only smoking every other day now. Starting today. I haven't done anything today. I promise."

"I guess that is better than before," I replied. "But it's not good enough."

He sighed again. "I'm trying my best."

"I know." I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"How long do we have until you're parents come looking for us?" He asked.

"Um...five minutes," I guessed looking up at him.

He leaned down and kissed me gently. He then began to kiss my neck.

"Offer is still taken back," I spoke.

"Really?" He asked. He kissed my lips again.

"Yep, I'm afraid so. We don't have much time anyways."

"I don't need that much time," he smirked.

I laughed before kissing him back. His hands ran through my black hair and mine went around his neck.

I pulled away slightly before saying, "Time is up." I kissed him one last time before standing up.

"You're mean," he responded.

"I love you too," I smiled before exiting my bathroom.

He followed me out, and just as I was about to open my bedroom door, Quinton gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him.

"You didn't think you would get away with that, did you?" he stated playfully.

I smiled. "What are you going to do about it?"

He smirked before beginning to tickle me.

"No, no...I hate...being...tickled," I said through laughter.

"Is everything ok in here?" My mother asked as she peaked her head around my door.

"Yes everything is fine," I replied trying to catch my breath.

I saw her mind drawing conclusions about what was going on in here. "You know if you need to talk about anything, like being safe when it comes to--"

"Mom! Please don't go into that right now," I jumped in cutting her off.

"I just want to make sure everything is--"

"Everything is under control," I replied. "No need for any talk of any kind because I am well informed and my boyfriend is standing one foot away."

My mother blushed suddenly embarrassed. "I didn't make any dessert because this was last minute, but you can stay longer if you want," she said to Quinton.

"I should get going. I've got school tomorrow and I don't want to be late," he replied.

"Yes, yes of course."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ace," he said to me.

"Bye," I responded as he left my room.