|How To Screw Up Your Life: 102
Author: Storm December PM
Hey, I’m Travis. This is my story of how I fell in love with my best-friends father. Yeah, and Luke thought he had it bad? Oh, please. M/M A/N: Part 2 of HTSUYL: 101.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 13 - Words: 38,487 - Reviews: 49 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 39 - Updated: 11-07-09 - Published: 09-15-06 - id: 2247222
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
How To Screw Up Your Life: 102
By Storm December
A/N: This story has M/M ships in it. If you don't like it, don't read it!!! You have been warned. If the summary didn't give it away already. ;-)
Summary: Hey, I'm Travis. This is my story of how I fell in love with my best-friends father. Yeah, and Luke thought he had it bad? Oh, please. A/N: Part 2 of HTSUYL: 101.
A/N 2: This story goes with my other story How To Screw Up Your Life: 101, so things that aren't explained in this one will be explained in that one. Go check it out and tell me what you think!! ;-)
Grow Up In A House With Some One Who Doesn't Love You, But Whom You Love No Matter What They Do To You
Hi guys I see you've passed Luke's class and moved on to this one. My names Travis and I'll be teaching this class. You may already know me through the cores of Luke's class, but just in case let me give you a quick run down. I'm one of the guys in Scott's group of friends who actually accepted him for who he is. I'm actually one of his best-friends and one of Luke and Charlie's closes friends as well, I met them in middle school and we've been friends ever since but we got closer in high school. You'll only get a snippet of why it is that Luke and I are close, in this class, but if you want the full story you gotta' attend Luke's. But any way enough about him, I mean don't get me wrong I love'im like a brother but he has his own story. This one is about me, my friendship with Scott and how I fell in love with his father.
Now ever since we met at Jamison Middle School I've been going to the Nikodemos house almost every day, needless to say it's a hell of a lot better than my own, and every time I go Nathe has never failed to put a smile on my face. No matter what's happened before I got there he always manages to make everything better. Now I know what you're thinking, 'this just sounds like some little boys crush on his hero or something', and I probable would have agreed with you. IF, it had gone away by at least the time I started high school. But nooo that would have been too simple. By the time I was a senior, I was in love with him more than I could have ever imagined me being. And I was about ready to lose it if I didn't tell him soon.
More happened in my and Scott's senior year of high school, than I thought could happen in both of our life time put together. So, sit back, get comfortable and let me tell you my story.
Summer had gone by quicker than usual and school was on my ass before I even had time to brace myself. I spent all of summer except maybe a couple of weeks at Scott's house with his family and Luke. Luke's mom, Aziza, was at a business conference in Japan that ran into some problems so she wound up spending most of the summer there and Luke stayed at Scott and Charlie's. We had a great time and all but it ended way to dame soon for me.
So now I'm at home in my room trying to steer clear of the old woman since she's drunk again so I can make it to the first day of school, which is tomorrow, without any bruises. There's only so much you can blame on football before people start wondering you know, and tomorrow is seeming like a long ass way away right about know. It's freakin' 9:00 p.m. and I can still hear her breaking shit down stairs. Ah, the soothing sounds of 'home'. It's only a matter of time before she starts venturing upstairs I'm sure. Turns out I was right.
It's around 11:15 p.m. when I feel something cold and hard wake me across my face and bring me out of my blessed oblivion that is sleep. I fall out of bed clutching the left side my face and onto my guitar case that's, for some reason, lying on the floor sans the actual guitar. I look up to see my mother standing over me glaring with said guitar in her hands, ah there it is. I don't even bother getting pissed off. Never mine the fact that I bought it with my own hard earned money when I was fifteen 'cause she sure as shit wouldn't get me one, even though I have talent. Na it wasn't worth getting pissed over, I'm actually surprised and thankful it lasted this long. Heaven only knows how she found it on the top shelf in the back of my messy ass closet. She goes to swing at me again and I raise the arm that's not still holding my face and try to block it but to no avail, especially when I realize I need my arm to play football tomorrow and drop it out of the way. I can feel a piece of my splinted guitar sink into my back and break off when she swings it back towards herself. I bite my lip to keep from screaming out and somewhere in the back of my mind I'm amazed that she hasn't hit herself with it yet. I scramble up, stand in front of my open door and wait for her to come at me again. When she does I dodge out of the way and push her out the door closing and locking it behind her.
"YOU LIL' BASTARD!! I'LL TEACH YOU T'LEAVE ME HERE BY M'SELF ALL DAY!! I'LL SHOW YA WHA' HAPPENS WHEN YA PU'YOUR HANDS O'ME TOO!! YA NO GOOD LIL' BRAT!!" she yells at me through the door.
Seeing as I was home all damn day I don't even pretend to try and figure out what she's talking about. I scramble around my room packing some thing and throwing on clothes, trying to hurry up before she can find her way back into my room. I'm almost through when I hear her hitting the handle of my door with a hammer or something. Shit. I move a bit faster trying to ignore the blood that's seeping into my eye from the cut on my face when I hear the handle fall and hit the hard wood floor.
"OH, YOUR ASS'S MINE NOW YA LIL' BASTARD!!" she yells as she's laughing through the door.
My heart stops for a second, before I'm throwing myself at my window unlocking and pushing it up to jump out of it. For some reason she still can't seem to get the door open and I thank all that's Holy 'cause that buys me a bit more time. She finally gets it open at the same time I remember that I left my car keys on my dresser. My dresser is almost exactly half way between her and me, but it's a little closer to her than it is to me. She's just standing there looking at me, and I ease myself from out of my window and back into my room.
"YA TRYIN'A LEAVE ME AGAIN WEARN'T YA? YA LIL' PUSSY. YOU'RE WORSE THAN'YOUR FATHER. YEAH, HE WAS A PUSSY TOO. IT MUST RUN IN YOUR FAMILY. WELL ON HIS SI'ANYWAY. I CO'FROM PERFECTION," she said, still yelling but I don't think she realizes it. I edge my way closer to the dresser without her noticing it, until I step on a piece of my guitar that makes a cracking sound that seems defining to my ears, and apparently to hers too because she turns her head to look at me just a little too clearly for my liking. She looks at my dresser and then back at me and I can tell the precise moment when it downs on her just what it is that I'm doing. Her eyes get darker and her face screws up into a sneer.
"YA LIL' FUCKER!! THE O'LY WAY YOU'RE GETTIN' OUT'A HERE IS WHEN I KILL'A!! she screams as I lunge for my keys and she lunges for me.
Just as I grab them she swings down on my right arm with the hammer she used to break into my room. I feel my bone crack and I scream bloody murder, but I don't let go of the keys. I push myself back with my feet sliding on my ass on the floor away from her and dive out of the window just as she reached me managing to hit me one last time on my shoe. Thank heaven I'm wearing my boots.
I land on my left shoulder and side in the grass and I feel it dislocate and a rib or two cracks, but I push that out of my mind and run to my car. I can hear her yelling still and then bumping and banging that sound like her falling down the stairs. I jump in, start my car, put it in gear and stomp on the gas burning rubber as I peeling out of the driveway. When I'm about a mile down the road I pull off to the side, grab some napkins out of my glove compartment and wipe the blood of my face and out of the only good eye I have so I can see.
There's only one other time when it ever got this bad, and that was when I was thirteen and my father died from a horseback riding accident. 'Some times I wonder if it really was an accident.' She broke my left arm in three places, fractured my right hand, and blinded me in my right eye from the bleach she poured on me for getting blood on by clothes. She made me tell the hospital and the police that I got jumped by some teenagers on my way home from the park. I had special contacts made with some money I had saved up, that gives me my emerald jade green with honey golden flecks color and a pupil in that eye so it doesn't look like I'm blind, they did a really good job of matching up my natural eye color, and when I don't wear it my reddish blond shoulder length hair covers it up very well. So no one actually knows I'm blind and besides I'm damn good at hiding it. I've had years of practice in that department. For instance, long hair is also good for covering up bruises and that way you don't have to use so much foundation, I learned that one rather quickly.
Despite all of that though, I still made the football team three years later. And I'm proud as shit of it. So much for that now though, it seems. And a football scholarship is the only chance I had of going to college. But fuck it. I ain't mad. What's the point? That's my life and it is what it is.
As I sit in my car I can feel my mind beginning to drift back over what just took place at the house, and I have to try hard to push it out of my head or I'll never make it to Scott's house. My real home. So I get back on the road driving as best I can with the unrelenting pain starting to set in, keeping a napkin in my hand to keep the blood out of my eye and head for home, to the only real family I have left.
A/N: Tell me what you think and review please!!!!! TTFN!!! ;-)