Before School Special

Andrew yanks the closed stainless steel refrigerator in his cousins’ kitchen, chugging the milk before safely returning it into the fridge--empty. He slips out of sight from his relatives, only before they scramble down the stairs.

Andrew tweaks his glasses, shrugging on his way upstairs. His door--the last to the left--led into the smallest room, with one window, usually kept open. He pushes the door apathetically, kicking off his shoes he had forgotten to pull off and falls onto his bed, attempting to get the last bit of sleep fulfilled.

He doesn’t give a damn about his grades, homework, or that final exam that he has yet to study for. He’s never going to graduate, so why give himself false hope? Andy overhears the noises of awkwardly Chase’s favorite show, Cailou, and pulls his pillow over his head, hiding under the dirty cotton sheets.

His room is a black hole, sucking every thing that has worth and meaning, only to spit the useless objects back into the open. Like his brain--never letting him forget the embarrassing thoughts his mind conjures up.
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Valissa seems a little off as she rushes into Andy’s small mancave. Andy jumps, falling out of his bed, “What?” he says in a heavy British accent, almost angered. He shakes his head, apologetically, with a concerned, “What happened?” even if it turned out no where near sensible--at all.

“Watch your fucking language.” Andy rubs his head, not even thinking about the hypocritical irony in that sentence.

He raises eyebrows in amusement at the possibility of Chase fucking up, “What’d Chase do this time?” he flutters his eyelashes and broadens his smile as he pulls his leg over his other, almost as if he’s an older women waiting to hear the daily gossip spilled--of course, Andy only wants to hear of his cousin’s failures (although, that sarcastic gesture is more of a fail than anything else imaginable.)

He realizes his abnormal “gesture” and scrambles back to the normal sprawled position on his bed like a normal caveman would, listening intently to his cousin’s problems. Isn’t it much more fun to listen to other people’s problems?

“The world is a shitty little shithole.” he sympathizes, yet curses for lack of a better word (or knowledge of one), “Now explain the real problem here. Is it Chase?” he says a little too quickly and a little too eagerly.

“Well, excuse me for trying to sympathize for once.” Andy rolls his eyes, lowering his voice; yet loud enough to be heard with hints of sarcasm, “Shouldn’t someone’s parents named them Winter?” Andrew shrugs when she says Chase didn’t do a damn thing wrong. It figures, he should have known. He plops down on the foam mattress, so it doesn’t mold into his awkward position and curls into the fetal position (he could almost suck his thumb like a baby). Val grabs hold of one of his “fancy” pillows, clutching it. “I stole it.” Andy shakes his head in amusement, “No, it’s from a cheap garage sale.”

Valissa mentions how she’s contemplating dropping out of school. “I suppose you want wise advice, so I’ll say....” he squints his eyes, “give it a year or two and then think through it , ‘kay?”

He looks at her for a brief moment, “We both know you actually have potential, just don’t throw it away.” he’s serious this time. For once. He can’t let his little cousin whom he’s supposed to protect throw her life away over a little stress.