readenglishbook.com » Fiction » MY HATCH POCKET JOURNAL, BILLY COY [mobi reader TXT] 📗

Book online «MY HATCH POCKET JOURNAL, BILLY COY [mobi reader TXT] 📗». Author BILLY COY



1 ... 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 ... 54
Go to page:
right in that boy’s face, and he said, “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you shut up!”

The boy stepped back laughing mockingly. Dean was already trembling after that fine move to declare his freedom. “Oh my God, big poppa said something today,” that same boy continued. And his colleagues laughed. He then got closer to Dean, pressed him hard against his locker and said seriously, while grinding his teeth, “Never speak back at me you moron!”

At that instance a sassy gorgeous blonde girl came to Dean’s rescue. “Let go of him Brian!”


Brian looked at her hesitantly while smiling and then let go of Dean. “Rebecca,” Brian said, “I didn’t know you and the moron were acquainted.”

“Now you know we are, so scram.”

“As you say my lady,” said Brian, “Less go guys.”

When Brian and his boys had left, Rebecca smilingly turned to Dean. She had saved his skin from getting ripped by those hooligans. He was smiling amusedly back at her.

“Would you care for a date tomorrow night,” she asked, “You and I at
Jacobs, 8p.m.”

Left almost breathless, Dean answered with delight, “I’ll certainly be there.”

“All right then.” She walked away with her face more brightened by a smile so sexy, warm and tender which all left Dean speechless and staring at her all the way. She walked just like a model on a runaway.

“Jacobs” was one of the finest restaurants in town.

Wednesday night came and Dean was so excited. He was getting prepared for the date with help from his mother. His mother too was excited for him because this was to be his first date.

“She’s your first date, don’t mess it all up with your insecurities.”

“You don’t have to remind me mother. I want it so bad too, I wouldn’t mess it up.”

“For all I know she’s the prettiest in your school….” “I said one of the prettiest!”


“And what’s that supposed to mean.”

“Never mind, can you please help me with the tie.”

Minutes later Dean’s mother dropped him at “Jacobs,” where he and
Rebecca were to have their date.

“Bye, I’ll pick you up at ten. Be a good boy.” A sigh, “Yes mother dear,” said Dean.
After his mother had left, Dean timidly walked into the restaurant; he
was a bit shaky and all his body movement and eye contact with the people seated and eating in the restaurant spelled out shyness. He gave little eye contact.

“Mr. Dean Chapman?” asked the waiter, who approached him unexpectedly.

With a smile of relief on his face, “Yes that’s me,” said Dean. “Right this way sir,” said the waiter.
Dean was shown the table that was his and Rebecca’s, for the night.

“This is your table sir, Miss Rebecca will be with you shortly,” said the waiter, “She said she was running a bit late but she will be here soon.”

“No problem, said Dean, smilingly, “I’m not going anyway either.” He sat down.
“I can see that sir,” said the waiter, “What can I get you for now as you
wait for Miss Rebecca sir.” “Lemon juice will do for now.”


“Sure sir, for now,” said the waiter, “Would you prefer it with sugar or…”

“No, no, no, no sugar,” said Dean. “All right sir.”
The waiter walked away. Dean’s face was glowing with happy smiles.
Rebecca was on his arm now.

More minutes passed of waiting and Rebecca was nowhere to be seen. But this didn’t deter Dean or stop him from taking more lemon juice. He still had the glow of smiles on his face; she was coming any time soon, he was sure of that.

As more minutes elapsed, that soon turned into an hour, without seeing Rebecca walk through the door where his eyes were so glued after having realized that maybe his night was doomed, Dean kept waiting. The lemon started tasting bitter as time tested his patience, not seeing Rebecca’s beautiful figure anywhere through the door.

Later on when it had clocked to the time for his mother to pick him up, Dean got to more realization that Rebecca had stood him up; he was seated outside the restaurant, on the roadside pavement, with tears running down his eyes. It was such an embarrassment that left him so angry, numb and ashamed.

When his mother arrived, she was shocked and worried to see her ‘baby boy’ feeling so alienated.

“What did she say to you?” asked Dean’s mother.

Looking up at her with red eyes, Dean spoke with sorrow, “She stood me up mother. She didn’t show.”


His mother helped him up from the pavement and embraced him. “How could she be so cold?”

“I thought that just because you guys had the same name,” said Dean, “Luck had finally come my way.”

“Luck my son …,” said Dean’s mother, “Luck is rarely real.”

While in his mother’s arms, Dean was walked into the car and driven back home an unhappy guy.

That night it was even harder for his mother to convince him that everything was and would be okay; he stayed up all night, sad and in constant tears.

In the morning it was a hassle and a different story. Dean and his mother were in the kitchen fighting.

“There is no way you’re staying home. Do you expect me to get you a babysitter just because some worthless girl stood you up?”

“How could you understand how it feels, it didn’t happen to you!”

“And your father leaving us when we needed him the most was a dream, huh, or better yet, a nightmare!”

“Don’t bring him up in this, he was a bastard.”

“I’m sorry to say, but you’re headed down the same road if you don’t start acting like a real man.”

“I am a real man mum!” Dean busted out at his mother with profound hurt; tears were running down his eyes.

His mother realized from that moment on that she had gone too far with him. She looked sad and remorseful.


“I am sorry.” She tried to touch on him but he pulled away and ran upstairs crying profusely.

The remainder of that whole week Dean didn’t go to school. He remained home eating French flies, chicken and ice-cream; neither could he go beyond his house’s boundaries or out of the house par se.

But the next week after that ‘horrific week,’ Dean was back at school. Walking through the hallway, he came across Rebecca talking to her friends, and he was bold enough to confront her about that night she stood him up.

She looked at him with contempt from when she laid her already rolling eyes on him, and her friends were smiling.

“Rebecca, can I please have a word with you?” said Dean.

“Anything you have to say, you can say it right in front of my friends,” replied Rebecca, “It’s not like we’re dating that we need any privacy.” Her friends laughed. Although Dean was shivering and sweating in embarrassment, he was not moved.

He took a deep breath and said, “I thought you were better than that!” Rebecca’s friends kept laughing.

“Sorry to know that I am worse,” said Rebecca, “Less leave this worthless pig to cry over just a simple heartbreak.”

Laughing continuously and mockingly, Rebecca and her friends walked away from Dean. He was literally left numb; tears ran silently down his cheeks.

That marked Dean’s innocence. What Rebecca had done to him left him drained and fed-up of an easy life; all he had got from being nice were insults and humiliation. So he changed.


He had an older friend (Brandon) from the projects whom he always went to and talked to whenever things were not going on well in his life. But one day’s evening visit at Brandon’s a bit messy apartment changed his life.

“Just try it man,” said Brandon, “this shit will make you stop giving a damn about what other people say or do to you. Just give it a try.” Brandon was already high on drugs.

Dean was hesitant. “I can’t man. My mum would kill me.”

“So much of a mama’s boy…. When are you going to be a man, man?” “Don’t say that man. I am a man.”
“Then if you’re, prove it with this shit.” “Okay, if it’s what you want….”
Dean took the teaspoon that had cocaine, put it on fire and when it was
ready Brandon helped him inject it in his arm. Thereafter his (Dean)
emotions ran wild.

“Oh man, this feels like heaven,” said Dean. “Heaven it is, my brother,” said Brandon.
That night Dean never went back home. He slept over at Brandon’s. But
in the morning, waking up in Brandon’s living-room and lying in the couch, he realized that he was in the wrong place at a wrong time. It was a Wednesday and he had to be at school. Soon Brandon woke up too.

“Man, what happened here?” asked Dean.

Brandon was giggling silly, looking at his frightened young friend.


“Don’t worry man. Mummy doesn’t know where you’re.”

Dean was up in full gear. He was acting agitated: throwing his hands in the air while speaking and he looked all nervous.

“It’s a Wednesday man. I have to be at school.” “Missing school for one day won’t hurt.”
“Perfect man, that’s so cool.” Dean stormed out of Brandon’s
apartment so angry.

“You don’t have to slam the door, moron!” Brandon screamed, “Mummy’s baby.”

At home Dean had to face his mother’s wrath as he prepared himself for school in a rush, after taking a cold shower.

“This is not your father’s house where you will come and go whenever you wish! You had me worried as hell!”

“That’s not necessary mum. You wanted me to be a man, I am becoming a man.”

“Not under my roof, no you won’t!”

Dean grabbed his bag from his bed and rushed out of the bedroom. His mother followed him. They walked down-stairs still fighting.

“You’ll have to first move out of here before you become that kind of man that you claim to become.”

“I didn’t claim to become any type of man, but just a man!”

“Don’t give me that shit, you’re just fourteen and you’re still a kid.”


Dean paused at the door and looked right at his mother. “Oh, now you no longer want me to be a man. I am still a kid, huh!”

“At fourteen, yeah, that’s exactly what you’re!”

Feeling so anguished, Dean walked out of the house and slammed the door right at his mother’s face; she remained crying.

That one experience with drugs really
1 ... 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 ... 54
Go to page:

Free e-book «MY HATCH POCKET JOURNAL, BILLY COY [mobi reader TXT] 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment