Louie.

"It's been three hours Ben, you need to hang out with them already."

My father's words echo in my head as I watch the doorway, where he once was.

Some days I like to look back on my childhood and push back all the negative and focus on the times I had with him. On those days of wrestling with him in the living room and standing in the driveway while he watered the grass.

My dad was my hero, my role model.

The feelings I had for him back then. . .

But then everything else happened, and I feel the bridge between is so worn and old, and my hands are too cut up and covered with blisters to fix it. And all we can do is look at each other from opposite sides. . .

I just feel so torn up. . . but that's not what I should be focusing on right now.

Right now I'm afraid.

I don't know what to do.

I have to go downstairs.

I have to make an effort to talk to people.

When was the last time I spoke to anyone that wasn't in this house?

When was the last time I talked to my own friends?

Do they even miss me?

But even with all these unanswered questions and thoughts, my body somehow manages to function without me and make it's way down the stairs.

And before I can worry about my appearance, or even attempt some mental preparation; I'm already at the bottom of the steps and all of Lorraine's friends are looking at me.

I can feel my face get hot.

There's a group of them, girls and guys, sitting on the couches, squished together. I take notice of their preppy clothes and fake fronts quickly. All the girls are wearing too much makeup and the guys have clean-cut hair cuts, and the way they all sit and stare. . . the faces they make as the look at me, as they judge me. They all look at me, and I can't help but look at anything but them.

And I weigh my options on what to do: I could be an ass in front of them, or ignore them completely.

I'm tempted to just walk back up the stairs, but as I glance up them I see Beth and my father up there looking at me with arms crossed. And now I know leaving isn't an option, so instead I look at Lorraine for guidance.

And I feel so weak and exposed while she just looks at me, eyes meeting mine. My insides are screaming because I've been defeated within a matter of seconds. What ever little ounce of confidence I had is gone. I plead for her to do something, to do anything.

She just pulls a wide, fake grin and winks at me.

"That's my step-brother, Ben" she introduces to them loudly and gives a weak wave at me. Her friends just nod and return to their conversations.

I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding and rush right into the kitchen planning to head towards the fridge. However when I turn the corner my eyes zero in on the back of someone's head.

In front of me is that guy from across the street. He sits in a wheel chair, back facing towards me, arm reaching over the counter. He makes grabby hands for some chips. I hear him grumble, trying to extend his arm far enough to touch any foil bag he can get his hands on.

He tries to wheel himself closer to the cabinets but he's already as close as he can get.

"Fucking Bitch tits man, can some please help me-" He begins but when he turns his head back he sees me, and I've been caught.

"Hey bro, can you lend me a hand and get me some damn Hot Cheetohs?" he asks.

I bite back a smart ass reply and just walk over, easily getting his choice of snack and handing it to him. I notice that his bangs are sticking to his forehead. Sweat. He angrily rips open the chips and takes a bite of one, noticing my staring. He tries to peek up at his hair and wipes his bangs to the side with his them.

"It's fucking gross, I know. I give props to those who actually live in these damn chairs," he scoffs, shoving a handful of Cheetohs into his mouth.

I just lean against the counter awkwardly and cross my arms. My mind reels on what to say but comes up empty. I give up and just choose to say nothing, hoping that the conversation is done and I could walk away, but this kid doesn't seem to care that I'm unresponsive.

"So which fucker are you?" he asks. He looks into the mini chip back, trying to find more Cheetohs in the dim light coming in from the living room.

I'm caught off guard at his question, head tilting to the side as I look at him unbelievably. Who the hell talks like that to a stranger?

"Are you like Lorraine's secret boyfriend or something, she's been telling me she liked this guy who isn't a regular in her circle of friends" he continues, frowning at the now empty chip bag.

Before I can ask if he even paid attention when Lorraine introduced me, Louie comes running into the kitchen.

The kid doesn't even glance at either of us and just stares intently at the DS gaming device in his hands. He quickly grabs himself a Caprisun from the refrigerator without looking.

"Louie can I have one too?" the boy in front of me asks. Louie just nods, pulling out another one and finally taking his eyes of the electronic.

Louie smiles and throws the Caprisun at the person in front of me who just mumbles a thanks in reply. But he also does a double take as Louie scurries back out of the kitchen.

"Wait a second. . . oh, you're Ben!" he concludes looking up at me with a smile. "Nice to meet you bro, I'm Rockwell"