Hot Under The Summer Sun

"Danny wake up, you're going to be late." My mom yells from the hall and taps my door as she passes my room.

I pull a pillow over my head and groan tiredly. Her heels click against the floor and she goes down the hall to wake my brother, and I toss and go back to sleep.

It is finally the last day of school before summer vacation, but of course mum would still make me go, no matter how openly I've put it out there that I hate school.

There literally is only one thing that gets me motivated enough to drag my ass out of bed every morning to go to school, and it is definitely not to find x, or calculate the temperature of the sun.

I honestly don't care for my education because if I don't get everything handed down to me like the rich kid that I am, then I'm definitely going to marry well.

"Five more minutes, mum," I mumble, and pull the covers higher over my body.

"Daniel! Get out before I make you, damnit," she yells only seconds later, and bangs a fist against the door.

I sit up so quickly it feels like I've left my soul on the pillows, and grab my chest to keep my heart from flying right out. I know she means it, because she just said my full name.

My eyes are burning with sleep...I should have thought about that before I spent all last night watching Scream Queens, and I suddenly really, really need to pee.

I jump out of bed, cupping my groin and run to the bathroom. It's occupied, but I cannot make it down the stairs without pissing myself. How is it that we have this big ass house but only two bathrooms?

I twist the knob, and sigh with relief when I push the door and it opens.

The toilet seat is covered and I don't have the patience to lift the lid. Instead, I pull the shower curtain, drop my pyjama pants and let out a long exhale as the piss shoots out of my dick like a missile, my eyes closed in pleasure of relief.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCKKK?" my elder brother screams, his eyes wide in wonder, confusion and pure disgust as I open mine and look at him for about a minute or so before I realise what is happening.

"What the hell are you staring for? Get out!" he snaps, and I clear my throat.

I mumble a quick apology under my breath, pull the curtain back and go to brush my teeth. I run back to my room when I'm done, lock the door behind me and then burst out laughing.

I am sure he's going to beat me senseless when—if he gets out of the shower, but I enjoy the last few moments of not being in pain.

"Serves you right for being such an asshole," I whisper to myself, and burst out laughing again.

When I am sure he is not in the bathroom anymore, I go in, take a quick shower and get dressed.

I want to be depressed about going to school today...i really do. But it is the last day before three months of freedom, give or take, and my day has started out quite well already.

Now as I literally pour my cereal down my throat, my mother close to tears begging me to slow down so I don't choke, I just want to get it over with.

"The upstairs bathroom lock is broken, can you like fix it or something?" Jake says as he walks into the kitchen, goes straight to the fridge without making eye contact, and sticks his head inside.

"No, it's not," I say, with the exact intention of provoking him.

"Yes, it is. You know it is," he grits out, and I can only imagine the look on his face as I smack my lips, hum and say, "No. It's not."

"Stop it, you two. Just for once, I need you two to get through breakfast without fighting or arguing," mom says between mouthfuls of whatever green poison is trending in Hollywood right now, and I can barely hold my laugh.

"Never mind," Jake says and slams the fridge door, guzzling his shake. He grabs his backpack and threatens to make me walk if I am not out of the house before he counts to three. I roll my eyes. Like he doesn't make me walk half the time anyway.

"You're being a man child, Jake. What happened happened. There's no changing it, so you might as well get over it," I mumble, not too loud, but loud enough for him to hear as I climb in the car across from him, and immediately shield my face with my arms.

He does not say anything back, or even try to hit me. He just stares straight ahead and waits for me to put on my seatbelt, starts the engine and drives.

The few times Jake has given me a ride until we actually get to school despite being my designated driver have always been quiet. We don't talk, because we have nothing to talk about.

He's either listening to Daft Punk through his earbuds, or being cringy with one of his numerous girlfriends, while I retch in the backseat. But today is uncomfortably quiet—no girlfriend or Daft Punk, so quiet that I think he's just going to stop in the middle of the highway and ask me to get out and walk into traffic.

"So, you want to talk about it?" I ask when he kills the engine in the school parking lot. He shakes his head no, without even looking at me.

"If it makes you feel any better, I did not see anything," I lie, my hand on the door. Yes, lie. I looked at him for a whole minute or so. Of course I saw everything.

He just laughs and nods his head.

Well we cannot say that I did not try, I think as I open the door and get out of the car, ready to go and get the last day of school done and over with.