Page 12 of Meant to Be

“Jaxon, you know I don’t go out.” Sighing at her lame excuses, I get up.

“Well, maybe you should try.”

I run up the stairs to my room and lie on my bed. Thoughts of Shelby consume me, flooding my mind with images of her. I didn’t think she’d let me kiss her the way I did, but, shit I’m glad I pushed my luck.

“JAXON.”

Closing my eyes to the screech of her voice, a frustrated huff leaves me. I try to ignore her, but when she shouts again, I know there’s no getting out of it. I roll from the bed and march downstairs.

“Give me your money then.”

She holds out a twenty-pound note to me, I snatch it from her fingers.

“Only if I can get a pack of fags.”

“You little shit. I’m not paying for your fags.”

“No vodka then.” I shrug as I give her the ultimatum.

“Fine.”

I smirk, I knew I’d win.

“I’m taking the car.”

“It’s about time you got off your lazy arse and found a job, bring some money into the house.”

“I could say the same for you, Mother. See you later.”

“Hurry up.” She shouts as I run back through the door, waving my middle finger at her, slamming the door shut behind me as I leave.

I throw her Vodka on the passenger seat while I have a smoke, then make my way to Harry’s. My Aunty pulls open the door before I get a chance to knock.

“Shit, you’re like a neighbourhood watch,” I say as I light up a much-needed cigarette.

“He’s not here.” Raising an eyebrow, she totally ignores my joke, but I know she’s lying.

“Do we have to go through this every time Aunty Sheila.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because someone might hear you.”

“Look, you can’t keep having a go at me because of my parents…”

“You’re just like them, you’ll never amount to anything...”

“Thanks, so you keep saying.” I take my last few drags from my cigarette before throwing it down and stamping on it.

“I’d like it if you didn’t come around here, you’re leading Harry astray, he’s a good boy - unlike you,” she sighs, but I just laugh anyway.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you shouldn’t verbally abuse children because it can mess them up and make them feel bad about themselves? I mean, you really hurt my feelings.”

I hold my hand against my chest. “Every word batters at my heart, but then you don’t know what a heart is, because yours is a swinging brick,” I smirk.

“Who’s at the door Mum?” Harry shouts down.

---