World So Cold

86.

That’s the amount of hours I still have to go on my community service. I’d barely lasted four hours today before I just had to get out. Meeting Luke had been the best part of my day, but fuck, it’d been stressful. I’d had to double-check my every move, watch my every word, just to make sure I wouldn't offend him.

The confirmation of his sexuality was all I needed to set me off. It’s all I’d hoped really, but how can I fall in love with someone so…ill? It’s just going to hurt so much- for both of us- if the cancer does turn out to be terminal…

That’s not something I want to think about right now.

It’ll be better if I let him think I’m straight, that I’m not attracted to him in anyway. It’s going to be tough, having him so close, but I’ll have to try.

For the first moment in my life, I’m scared.
_______________________________________________________________________

By the time I get home, I’m in an even worse mood then when I’d left the hospital. I’d bumped into Robbie and co on the way here –don’t they have anything better to do with their pathetic little lives?- and ended up with a cut on my eyebrow and slightly swollen lip as a result. I’d left Robbie in a worse state though- Naturally. No one jumps me and gets away with it.

“Hey, anyone in?” I set the keys down on the table with a clink, and went into the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the room. “Nan? You here?”

At this, my grandma poked her head out from the living room, and walked over to retrieve the cookies from the oven. My Nan is an excellent cook; used to work in a primary school as a dinner lady before she retired. Those were the days when they actually served decent food, made it from scratch, instead of this commercially produced shit they pump kids full of now. All it requires is a microwave…

“Penny for your thoughts, Dante?” My Nan chuckled as she bit into a cookie. I shook myself out of my internal rant, answered with an unintelligible grunt, and went to grab a handful cookies, cramming them into my mouth. I didn’t realise I’d been this hungry.

“Woah, woah. Slow down. You’ll choke.” She scolded me, chuckling. She knew I wasn’t going to listen to her. Haven’t in ten years, why start now?

I gave another of my Neanderthal grunts, and swallowed. Nan just rolled her eyes at me and smiled. I don’t know how she puts up with my behaviour, I really don’t.

“Is the bitch and her boyfriend back yet?” I’m in no mood for putting up with any shit tonight. My sister’s boyfriend hates me as it is; just wait until he finds out I have to do community service for drunk driving! He’s going to have a merry ol’ time lecturing me from his high horse. Bastard.

“Dante! Don’t talk about your sister like that!”

“Why?” I snorted and grabbed another cookie. “She treats me the same way. Eye for an eye, Nan.” Mm, these cookies are good…

“Dante, that’s not the p- You know what, I give up on you. Sometimes I wonder why I bother. You’re out of control…”

Ouch. That hurt. I have complete control…I just have different morals to everyone else it seems. Killjoys. They should live life to the fullest, like I am.

Luke…

He…he can’t. He’s too ill to do…anything that I consider “fun”. He has to sit there and watch as his life crumbles away, the people he loves breaking down as his condition only deteriorates… I can’t imagine what him and his family are going through…

Well, maybe I can. I’ve been through it too…to some extent. I had to sit back and watch my Grandad die because they didn’t find out what he had until it was too late. Even then, they only provided basic pain relief. Too little, too late.

“I’m going out.”

My grandmother turned around to look at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Wha-? No. You’ve got to go back to the hospital again tomorrow. You’re not going in hungover for the second time in a row.”

She actually thinks I care what my probation officer thinks of me? Pfft. As if. I just need to go in, do the hours, and that’s it.

“Whatever. I managed it today. Tomorrow will be no different.” I grabbed for another cookie, but my Nan slapped my hand away before I could pick it up. Sometimes I swear that woman is a secret ninja. She should act her age, not her shoe size.

“You were late today Dante. You can’t do that today, or they’ll move you. Have you doing some building work for community service or something. Perhaps even pick rubbish up. And I know as well as you do that that won’t agree with you one bit.”

I hate her reasoning sometimes. Most of the time, actually. Why does she have to be so…logical? It’s not fair on me. I wasn’t exactly the brightest kid at school; I barely graduated in fact. Even without all that shit going on in my life then, I just couldn’t sit there and do schoolwork. It bored me to death.

My grandmother appeared to know that she had won because she gave me that self-satisfied smile as she placed the cookies in a container, and then on top of the fridge. Ha. She thinks that will stop me from reaching them; she’s severely underestimated me.
Not that I’ll probably remember them anyway. I have a whole bottle of vodka and a half in my room. I may not be going out anymore, but I can still get drunk.

Enough about fucking cookies already!

“You didn’t answer my question, Nan. When does ‘Liza get back? And is Tim coming with her?” I really hope the answer to both questions is no. I’m pretty sure both of them will not approve of my drinking habbits; they don’t already, but that’s before I got into a spot of trouble with the law. They’re two years older than me. They can’t fucking patronise me.

“Tomorrow, I think Dante. And yes, he is as far as I know. Play nice though. I don’t want it to end up with one of you storming out and us having to send a search party again.”

“That was one time Nan, two years ago! And I was eighteen. Perfectly capable of looking after myself…”What is it about these people that makes them think I can’t look after myself? My reckless lifestyle? I’m fucking twenty for goodness sakes! I can do what I fucking well please!

“Well you appeared to of grown backwards then. Mature almost-twenty-one year olds do not get drunk and total a car they’ve had since their sixteenth birthday. You’re not going to get another car, you know Dante. Unless you can pay for it yourself. That car was a birthday present.”

She’s right. I did total the car I’d had for nearly five years in my drunken stupor. I did get in trouble because of it. I did almost get sent to prison. But no way in hell am I ever going to be able to afford a new car. Not with my drinking habits to maintain…I need help

“I know, I know,” I sighed with exasperation, finally mellowing a little bit. My Nan’s point was starting to sink in. “I’m not going out, Nan. I’ll stay home, and go in tomorrow, okay? Feel better now?”

I didn’t mean to sound so patronising, but that’s just the way it came out. I can never seem to speak without the smallest hint of a sneer or smirk in my voice. There are rare
occasions though…but only when I’m nervous.

Like I was talking to Luke.

“Okay then, love.” My Nan smiled as she walked forward and pecked my head; she had to stand on tip-toes, bless her. “Did you want dinner or are you too tired?”

“I think I’m just going to lie down for a bit, Nan. I’ll cook myself something later if I need to. Don’t worry about it.”

My voice was much softer than it had been previously…but that’s only because I was trying to get her off my trail. I love my Nan, but she worries way too much sometimes. It’s not good at her age. I can’t put any more stress on her heart…

“Night night lovie.” She cooed, pecking my head again. “See you in the morning.”

With my grandmother in the living room watching whatever tonight’s random shitty soap is, I crept into my room and shut the door soundlessly. My bed groaned under my weight as I threw myself onto it, before reaching down under my bed…

I lifted the vodka bottle to my lips, feeling the burning taste that I just love to hate.