House on Fire

It wasn’t often that Ryan Copperfield found himself being forced to do something that he didn’t want to do. The need to uselessly plan every interaction out, mentally prepare himself before going places— why must he get forced into these social interactions? The winter cold has frozen over the nearby river and lake, the trees riddled with white powder that made Ryan think of cocaine as he snickered to himself and refused to tell his father why he was laughing.

As he sat in the backseat of his fathers truck alongside his younger brother, he found himself unable to take his eyes off of the cold. Despite that, in a stark contrast to the outside wonderland, he was dressed in very warm attire. Black heavy coat, green gloves that were starting to make his fingers sweat, and a pair of blue jeans that he swore would fall right off if he wasn’t wearing a belt. Ryan was on his way to a family reunion for Christmas, although the actual day of the holiday was a few weeks from now. He dreaded it when he was forced to come along on these mini road trips a few hours away from the small town his family resided in. He especially hated that he was forced to take off a day of work for this, usually working weekends so he wouldn’t have to be around his parents that much. Ha! Look at how that turned out. He found himself feeling resentful.

The clicking of the truck turning then coming to a slow reverse, forward, and park knocked Ryan out of his train of thought. Ryan jumped out of the truck, the cold air hitting his face like a nice breeze on the hottest day of the year. Various other cars were parked in the long driveway of his grandparents' many acres of farmland. Few cars resided in the grass by the road, Ryan could recognize them as his aunt and uncle's grey Honda Civic. They had offered to let him buy it from them when he had turned sixteen, but ultimately he was set up by an older coworker of his with a guy who could get him a used car for cheaper.

Speaking of this co-worker of his, Ryan wondered how he was holding up the shop that they worked at together. He knew that he was scheduled to work with him today, they had always tried to get the same shifts together ever since they had become friends. He felt himself get pulled into a bundle of worry and nerves as he walked with his parents and younger brother towards the house where his distant relatives remained waiting and greeting each other. Ryan was never one for chit chat, so he stood off to the side as his parents conversed and Andrew, his brother, went off to go play in the snow. The countryside was calm, open, but inside the house it was claustrophobic and eating Ryan up.

“Would Mikey be mad about having to work by himself today?” Ryan couldn’t help but ponder on his older friend, “What if decides to be an asshole about it and make me start paying for the packs of cigarettes I mooch off of him for the next month?”

As the teen stood there lost in thought, he felt himself being forced into a hug.

“Awh, Ryan! You’ve gotten so big,” A familiar female voice rang out in his ears, “It feels like just yesterday you were Andrew's age, huh?” His grandmother commented without the knowledge of how much it hurts to be reminded of his former years. Ignorance is bliss in Ryan’s mind, though.

“Yeah,” Ryan mumbled out as he looked down at the short, older woman.

“How’s school been? You’re getting good grades I hope.”

“My grades are fine, grandma. I’ve got at least all B’s.”

“You know, back when I was your age, your grandfather and I…”

Ryan had no interest in hearing what she had to say, opting instead to just keep smiling and nodding until his grandmother decided to go bother his parents instead of him. He found himself wandering from the hallway to the dining room to the living room. A few distant cousins and his grandfather sat around watching the television and arguing about the news. The teen decided to take a seat on the far end of the old, dusty couch that faced the TV.

“Bush doesn't know anything he’s talking about.”

“I say we should stop letting those kinds of people into our country, that’s for sure.”

His grandfather and a male cousin commented as a press conference played about the War on Terror. Ryan had no interest in politics, and he for sure gave no fucks about what was going on in Iraq. He had enough on his plate as is, and he didn’t need to be worried about some war. Although, the idea of joining the military had always seemed to catch his interest, and he would be eighteen soon… nonetheless, he needed to get his mind back on track. What was he thinking of before? Oh, right, Micheal. From the first day that Ryan had started working at the shop he applied at, he and Micheal had hit it off instantly. Despite the older man being in his early twenties and Ryan still being seventeen, they had a bond like no other that Ryan had experienced before in his life. No school friends compared to the way that Micheal made him feel. But, it wasn’t gay. The older man had just taken on the fatherly role that Ryan needed and that his actual father couldn’t fulfill.

However, his parents could never know about the relationship he has developed with the older man. They would shun it and call him a bad influence. Which is partially true. He’s the reason that Ryan has developed a habit for smoking, Micheal having offered him one a couple months ago and ever since then he’s been hooked on the horrid cancer sticks. When Ryan really thought about it, maybe Micheal really is not a good influence on him. He encourages him to drink and has made comments about the teen hurting himself before. But, what would Ryan know? None of his other friends get him like Micheal does, none of his other friends do favors for him like the older man does.

As Ryan sits on the old couch, still lost in thought, one of his aunts approaches him.

“Ryan,” The obese woman greets as she sits down next to him, the cushion struggling to stay plump as it bends down towards the couch frame because of her excess weight. Ryans’ mind never held back when it came to his family members weight, he has just learnt to shut up and be polite.

“Get away from me, you pig. You’re gross,” A small voice whispered in the back of his mind, but he would never dare say it to her face.

“Hey, Aunt Melissa.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a little tyke,” She laughed out, “What happened to that nice kid, huh? Seems like now all you care about is those, uh, video games?” Ryan shook his head.

“Oh, yeah.”

“So, tell me, what’s the gossip? You interested in any girls yet?”

“I guess there’s this one girl at school I like, but-”

“Ay, you go get her, tiger!” His aunt's husband interrupted his quiet admission, slapping a hand on Ryan’s back. When did he show up?

The teen suddenly felt claustrophobic. There was a woman he had barely talked to on his left and a man that he forgot even existed on his right. The air felt awkward and stiff as his aunt got up to go binge on whatever food his grandmother had cooked up for the occasion. Every noise felt like a shock wave to his ears, nails on a chalkboard. His breathing slowed, he wanted to claw his own ears and eyes out to escape the feeling of surrounding stuffiness. He wants to run out of here and never come back, he wants to sit in his dads truck for the next few hours and avoid all social interaction, but he knew that his father would never let him disappear like this. He abruptly stood up off the couch and moved through the living room, to the dining room, to the main hallway, then outside. The cold air felt soothing on his hot face as he resided on the porch.

Eventually, he found himself leaning against the railing, closing his eyes to shield them from the bright, white snow that covered the farmland. His thoughts came spiraling back to him as he was alone. But, before he could second guess his cowardness of running away from the people related to him, he felt the phone in his pocket buzz. With shaky hands, he answered it..

“Hello?”

“Ryan, dude, where the fuck are you,” Micheal's voice rang out in his ears.

“I’m sorry, listen, I had a family thing.”

“So, you decide to not fucking tell me and just let me discover that I’d be doing my shift alone after waiting for you to arrive for like an hour?”

“I’m sorry, I know I should’ve like- I told boss to let you know, ya know? Like, I called him beforehand,” Ryan felt himself stumble over his words. He knew Micheal would be pissed, what was he thinking?

“And you didn’t think of calling me?”

“Listen, listen, Mikey.”

“No, you fucking listen. You’ve been a little asshole too many times, I’m starting to think you do this shit on purpose,” The older man scolded on the other end of the phone. “I do so much for you, and you do shit like this in return.” If Ryan was there talking to Micheal face-to-face, he would swear that Micheal just spit at him.

—-

The next day before work, Ryan felt his stomach knot up in anxiety. He sat in his car for a few minutes, which was parked at the shop he worked at. He had at most ten minutes before he had to clock in for his shift. At most ten minutes before he had to see Micheal. Yes, they were friends, best friends even, but the older man still had a sense of authority over the younger teen. With the turn of his key in the ignition, Ryan turned his car off while letting out a shaky sigh. He had to stop being such a coward and face his worries. The teen stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him, slowly but surely walking towards the back door of the establishment.

The bell on the door chimed as Ryan entered, sitting in the back was Micheal, checking off boxes of stock on a clipboard. The older man's head perked up as Ryan entered and he grimaced as soon as he saw the young boy. He stomped over to the teen.

“Hey,” Micheal greeted through gritted teeth. He ran a hand up the back of his head and down through his short dirty blond hair.

“Uh, hey, Mikey. You’re here early.”

“Yeah, wanted to get some stuff done,” Micheal let out a sharp breath, “Listen, I shouldn’t have been so pissy at you yesterday. I get that you can’t control family shit.” At these words, Ryan felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

‘It’s whatever. I uh, I should’ve called you.”

—-

After work, Ryan sat in the passenger seat of Micheal’s car. It’s probably around six at this point and both men were exhausted after a day of fucking around and half-assing their job. Micheal tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, despite the car being off, as music blared in the background. Ryan grinned at him as he shittily sung along to the lyrics.

“Mikey, can I bum a cig off of you?” Ryan mumbled, patting his pockets to find his lighter.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

The blond hands Ryan a cigarette from his pack, keeping one out for himself as well. Ryan scoops his hand around the butt end of the cigarette to shield it from any nearby breeze as he lights the stick up. He throws his lighter on Micheal's lap as he sucks in a deep puff of the nicotine. The drug calms him, immediately easing any anxieties that he could’ve had. But, in the back of his mind, he’s still worried about the words that Micheal had scolded him with the day prior.

“Did uh,” He breaks the peaceful silence, his head turning to stare out the window instead of at Micheal. “Did you mean what you said the other day? About me being an asshole to you?” Micheal lets out a puff of smoke at Ryan’s words. He eyes the teenager.

“Maybe. I mean, it just depends on the day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some days you just have this attitude that you can’t seem to shake and I just wanna put you in your place.”

“Oh,” Ryan murmurs out. Words hurt.

“Don’t act all hurt now, or I’ll have to give you something to be hurt by, hah. But, yeah, sometimes I have to remind myself that you’re just a kid. I see myself a lot in you.” The older man's words turn from harsh to soft.

Ryan feels himself flinch at Micheal’s words of giving him something to be hurt by. Who did he think he is? Ryan didn’t choose for the older man to take a fatherly role in his life, so why does he have to act like he has some sort of power over him. Despite his brain giving protest, Ryan just sat there quietly as if he was about to cry.

“Dude, are you serious?” Micheal laughed out, taking another hit off his cigarette as Ryan discarded his into the ashtray. “Oh, come on. Don’t be a little pussy about some teasing.” Micheal scowled.

Ryan still gave no response, instead looking out the window and moving his arms to wrap around his torso. Suddenly, Micheal grabs Ryan’s arm and tugs it towards him with relentless strength and no remorse for how it might hurt the teen.

“Ow, ow, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ryan gasps out, turning to look at Micheal with a glare.

“What’s wrong with you?” Micheal retorts, “I say one, one thing and you shut down like a little bitch. Is that what you are? My bitch? Because you’re acting like it.”

“Shut up. Shut- shut up,” Ryan grumbles, trying to get Micheal to release his arm.

“No! You’re being a little bitch and I don’t like it. You think what I say hurts so much? How ‘bout I show you real pain.”

Ryan feels powerless for what happens next, Micheal’s grip on his arm tightens even more as the seventeen-year-old watches in horror as Micheal presses the lit end of his cigarette into his forearm, twisting the stick to make it hurt even more. The teen hisses out from the sudden pain and finally manages to yank his arm back.

“Fuck, what the fuck. You fucking- What the hell!”

“What? What? Dude, I was just messing around,” Micheal tries to play it off as a joke. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m leaving, don’t call me,” Ryan forces the lock to the door up.

“Don’t text me,” He opens the door.

“Don’t even fucking email me.” He gets out of the car and slams the door shut behind him.