What You Don't Know

I open my eyes wide. The clock says 8:25 pm, only twenty minutes have gone by, dammit. I was hoping I'd wake up, and it would be tomorrow. I'm never going to get any sleep unless my sister, Maggie, takes her Vicodin. She just got her wisdom teeth out today; she keeps whining and screaming and complaining. Thank goodness my mom knows how to handle her since I got mine out when I was fifteen which is how old my sister is now. I hear my mom walk down they hall and calmly tell her to take her dose of Vicodin; I think I finally might get some sleep now. Vicodin, frozen bags of veggies, and ice packs are Maggie's best friends right now, thankfully. Maybe I'll get a good night's sleep now.
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"Ty! Ty!" a voice at the door yells. "Get up!" It's the first day of your junior year! Get up!" It's my mom's voice. It's obvious she doesn't sound happy. She must have been up all night with Maggie. She usually has this sweet, light voice, bit it's definitely rough and irritated this morning. The light shines in between the white blinds next to my bed. I must have been tossing and turning because my my sheets and blankets are all over my bed right now. My feet are illuminated by one of the beams of light. I slowly roll myself out of bed...literally. I roll right out and fall flat on my face. My prone body covered only by boxers lays there for a moment before I drag myself up.
I throw on a pair of broken-in jeans and a black tee with a white undershirt peeking out from underneath. I lace up my sneakers, brush my hair, and freshen up in my bathroom before heading downstairs for breakfast. "Morning, mom!" I say brightly, maybe a little too brightly. "Morning, sunshine!" she answers completely oblivious to or just ignoring it, "the pancakes are on the table with the syrup. I made you chocolate chip and strawberry ones since it's the first day of your junior year." "Thanks, mom," I smile at her while she's reading the newest issue of SELF magazine.
"Remember, you have a long practice after school today, my alternate captain," she smiles as she reminds me, "So I made you some Muesli last night, the pineapple one you love so much."
"Thanks, mom," I say.
She was so proud the day at the end of our winning season last year when I was named alternate captain by the graduating seniors at our ceremony. That might have been the moment where she was most proud of me. She always has been. She makes up for my dad not being there to be proud of me. My mom is the best, my hero. "You better get your gear into the car quickly after you east, so you don't forget it," she says knocking me back into reality.
I did forget it one time and has said it every day since that slip. "Hey, mom?' I get her attention, "I hope you have a nice day." She smiles sweetly to herself, the smile everyone tells me I have, mostly older women. She walks over and gives me a kiss on my forehead. "You're a good kid. I think I'll keep you for one more day," she says to me before we both give a small laugh.
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I start up my car after throwing my gear bag into the trunk. After I back out of the driveway, I head towards Jake and Owen's house to pick them up for school. They've been my hockey buddies for years now. They moved here from Quebec City when they were five. Their parents don't have the money to buy them cars, so I've been driving them in my white explorer since I first was able to.
I take a few turns and head down their street. When I reach their house, I honk. They come out lugging their hockey bags and backpacks. "Throw the bags in the trunk!" I yell out the window. "Yeah, whatever," Jake says as he opens the trunk door. Owen calls shotgun, and Jake swears. They both hop in, and we head off to school.
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"So...have you talked to any ladies over the summer?" Owen presses, trying to pry into my life once again- one of his many annoying quirks.
"Why do I have to put up with this bullshit this early in the morning?" I toss a question back.
"Come on, man, you can't possibly tell me you haven't gotten any this summer. That's inconceivable."
"I've talked to Katie, Stephanie, and Kelsey, but I really don't care about 'em."
"Dude, you're crazy. They're fucking smoking. Why not just make out with 'em, or at least mack on 'em even?" Jake chimes in.
"Just shut up, you assholes. I'm fucking done talking about my life," I argue angrily.
The rest of the car ride silent save for the rap and hip hop emanating from my radio/stereo system. Well, this first day is turning out to be more problematic and demanding than it should be.