A family spiraling out of control.
A child forced to grow up too fast.
Is there any room left for a young girl to find herself?


Chapter 1 - The Ticking Clock

 

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Author's Note: You may have noticed that I’ve chosen to write a story set in the US rather than my home turf, so, if I’ve messed up a phrase or cultural reference, please forgive me and let me know my mistake as a PM. As ever please be tolerant of my failings, and forthright with your criticism. ~Persephone
 
Photo by  Christopher Campbell on Unsplash
© Persephone 2019

~o~O~o~

Carl McCarrick decided that as birthdays went, this one sucked. He might be twelve now, but being stuck in the kitchen with his asshole of a brother didn’t seem remotely fair; especially since Sean started it.

In the lounge he could see his dad sprawled in front of the football game. The only breaks in the good natured abuse he heaped on the players was when he gulped another mouthful of soda or reached for the popcorn.

Alongside Dad his oldest brother Jimmy mimicked his father. “What sort of pansy assed tackle was that? Poncing around like a freakin’ fairy. Hit the a’hole!” He crowed.

Carl tuned out the verbal assault on the TV and glowered across the kitchen table at his middle brother. After a moment he bent his head back down to the punishment Mom had inflicted upon the two of them. He focussed on the next line from Proverbs 15, the text they had been set to copy three times. Thank god he was nearly done.

‘The Lord detests the way of the wicked, but he loves those who pursue righteousness.’

He glanced over to see Sean still struggling through his second copy and smiled inwardly to himself even as his tongue prodded the split on his upper lip.

‘Stern discipline awaits anyone who leaves the path; the one who hates correction will die.’

Carl looked again at the words he had written and for the first time really read them. In this house that path was whatever mom and dad approved of, and that list was pretty damned short. It certainly didn’t include Carl’s guilty secret wish. If they ever found out about that he probably would never get to his eighteenth birthday. Carl shook his head, those thoughts were too dangerous to even think around his family.

“Whats up with you Runt?” Sean hissed across the table.

“None of your business.” Carl mumbled quietly, conscious of Mom busy at the sink, and kept his eyes down on the paper in front of him.

“I said ‘what the fuck’s up with you, you little runt?’” Sean hissed louder.

“Sean McCarrick! You just earned yourself another copy.” Mom interrupted from behind him. “I will have no profanity in this house. Psalm 109 I think.”

Carl had to bite his lip to keep himself from smirking as Sean groaned and shot him an evil glare. Mom always did have ears that would put a bat to shame, and Sean was an easy target to rile up. Now he’d gained at least half an hour of peace and quiet in the room he shared with his brother; maybe an hour. That should be enough to properly set up the new laptop he’d been given for his birthday. When he was finished Sean would never be able to get in.

Eventually Carl managed to complete his final punishment copy, handed all three to his mother and nervously waited as she inspected them.

“Hmm, neat enough young man.” She finally allowed. “And did you take the message to heart?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And what is that message?”

“Fighting and arguing is wrong and deserves punishment, and to accept our punishment with grace ma’am.”

She gave Carl a long look before finally sending him on his way. “Go to your room for an hour to think about that. And apologize to your father and Jimmy for your behavior on your way up. Off you go.”

“Yes Mom, sorry Mom.” Then he ducked out of the kitchen to catch his dad before the commercials finished.

“Dad, Jimmy, sorry about that earlier.”

Brian McCarrick grunted and looked up at his youngest son. The damn kid was too short and delicate for his taste, but hopefully in a year or two he would start to bulk up and out, regardless of what the docs said. “So why did you kick your brother?”

“He called me a faggot.”

“Huh? Well…” Brian struggled to think of an appropriate reply. If anyone had called him a faggot a kicking was the least they could expect. However Marie was still in the kitchen and he knew too well she would be listening in.

“He’s your brother. You’re supposed to get along understand?”

“Okay Dad, I get it. So if I can’t kick him what do I do next time?”

Damn! The kid was way too smart. “Uh, I’ll talk to him later. Get on up to your room like your mother said.”

“Sure Dad.” Carl turned for the stairs, catching a smirk and hidden thumbs up from Jimmy as he did. Behind him he caught his dad’s quiet chuckle. “He may be a shrimp but he’s got balls. At least he’s not a pansy or Momma’s boy.”

Once on the stairs and out of sight Carl allowed himself to grin. He now had time to download and install a decent encryption package and VPN on his present. At last now he would have a safe space outside his head to dream and explore; somewhere none of his family could snoop. But carefully, he chided himself, ever so carefully. He would have to continue to guard every thought and act as if his life depended on it. It probably did.

Later that night, as the two brothers got ready for bed, Sean was still grumbling. “You little runt. It’s your fault we got in trouble. I should have punched you harder. Next time learn to take a fucking joke!”

Carl glared back. “I’ll start calling you a faggot and see how funny you find it Dog breath. Try it again and next time it will be your balls with a hammer.”

“Like a little shrimp like you could manage that. I’d cream you first Runt.” Sean shot back as he climbed up to the top bunk.

“Not if you’re asleep Dog breath. You got to sleep sometime.”

Carl snickered at the silence that met his reply. Then Sean let rip a fart. “Fuck you Runt. You start acting like a sissy faggot, I’ll call you on it an I’ll make sure Mom and Dad knows too. Then you’ll be in a whole world of hurt.” He reached over and flicked the light off.
Carl lay back in the dark and pulled the covers up to his chin as he considered his brothers parting shot. ‘I know, oh god don’t I know’ he thought quietly, careful even in the secrecy of his own head.

He stared at the mattress above him. It hadn’t been much of a birthday but he knew that, while not poor, his parents had to watch the nickels and dimes. A family trip out to the bowling alley, a handful of cards signed by his sister, brothers and father but bought by his mother, and the one thing he had really wanted, his own laptop computer.

The rest of it? Blergh!

He’d smiled and laughed and played his part during the day as they’d expected. He’d retaliated against his brother as they’d expected. He’d hidden his envy of his little sister Kathleen, despite her already turning into a bit of a tomboy, and felt the pressure to conform to what they expected slowly tighten around him.

At dinner Kath had proudly announced that she had helped Mom bake his birthday cake as it was set in front of him. Then she watched him wide eyed as he had dutifully blown out all the candles. He didn’t bother making a wish. The one wish he used to pray for was never going to happen, and even if it did his family would kill him.

‘So yeah, not much of a birthday.’

~o~O~o~

Carl awoke the next morning to the usual racket as Mom chivvied and chased the family to get ready and presentable for church. As usual the bathroom door was locked, and as usual he cursed the fact that, although the house was big, it was also old. It had come from mom’s father, the Reverend Matthew Noakes, when he passed and the house was as old fashioned and stark as he remembered Grampa himself had been. Another reason to be jealous of his sister. Mom had insisted that as a girl she needed her own bathroom so the three boys had to share. Resigning himself to a tepid shower later Carl trudged downstairs to find breakfast.

It was nearly ten o’clock before everyone was fed, watered, washed and dressed to Mom’s satisfaction and they were allowed to troop out to the van for the ten minute drive to church.

“We’re going to be well early Mom.” Sean whined as he clambered in.

“Well that will allow you extra time to pray about your shortcomings before the service. Especially after your behavior yesterday,” was the immediate retort. “I need to see Mrs Silcox about next months prayer group.” The rest of the family wisely kept quiet. As a preachers daughter Mom was unforgiving of anyone, family and pastor included, who failed show a properly devout and respectful attitude. In fact the new pastor, Reverend Fuller, most of all. Carl had watched Mom with her mouth set in a hard line during more than one sermon whilst the pastor had explained the Christian duty of tolerance, inclusion and love. Grandpa Reverend Noakes had never explained. He’d merely slung the brimstone around with a large shovel.

Fifteen minutes later, with the required conference complete, the family dutifully trooped in and took their accustomed pew near the front. Like his brothers and sister Carl set his face in a mask of attentiveness and let his mind wander through the familiar monotony of the service; right up until the sermon. He had learned to his cost to listen to that. Mom had the sneaky habit of asking questions after. This Sunday however was unusual.

“Brothers and Sisters. Today we have amongst us a fine young man. Dressed, not as you have been used to seeing him, but at my request in his service uniform. Please stand up Michael.”

Reverend Fuller waved towards an embarrassed Lance Corporal Michael Braybrooke who clambered to his feet and straightened his service alphas whilst the congregation craned around and whispered as they finally recognized the young man with a buzz cut as the same boy with a shaggy blonde mop who, with his family, had been a regular churchgoer and an organizer for the youth club.

“As many of you will recall, a year last summer Michael finished high school here in Harbor City and patriotically decided to serve his country before going on to college. He is here today having finished his training and is on leave before shipping out with his unit. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say where, but I’m told it will be hot, sandy and close to biblical lands.” Reverend Fuller paused, and looked straight at the young marine. “Michael, every Sunday until you return safely to your family, we will pray for you and your comrades, wherever you may be. As you go out to shield and protect us, know also that the blessings of our lord Jesus Christ shall shield and protect you, and all our service men and women, who go in harms way.”

The congregation responded with a rousing ‘Amen’.

After his earlier solemnity Reverend Fuller grinned. “Well, now that we have embarrassed our young warrior, let us allow him to take his seat and turn to todays sermon and the words of our lord taken from Ephesians chapter six…”

As always after the service the younger McCarricks drifted away from their parents and headed for the youth club to the side of the church. Kath quickly cottoned on to a couple of her friends whilst the boys congregated to the flock already pestering the young marine and his little brother Charlie.

“Awesome haircut man. You need to make Charlie get one too and loose that faggy ponytail.”

The boys laughed, missing Michael’s small frown and glance of concern towards Charlie.

“Mike, c’mon, you can trust us. Where are you really going? You going to kill anyone? Is it really that secret?”

Carl listened intently from the back of the small crowd as the older boys clustered round.

Michael laughed. “No, I won’t tell you and no, I hope not. As for being a secret it’s one of the first things they drill into us. Good OPSEC, or operational security, saves lives. So the safest course is to say absolutely nothing and to think carefully about everything you do. Do you really want me to put fellow marines lives at risk?”

“Uh, I guess not.” Derek Peterson was stumped for a moment before rallying. “But I guess you get all sorts of really cool guns and sh…stuff. So ’course your going to be OK and kill all the rag heads.”

“It doesn’t work like that Derek. All the cool ‘stuff’ in the world isn’t enough unless you are properly trained. What do you think I’ve been doing for the last eighteen months?”

“So what did they teach you? Was it really like in the movies?”

“All sorts of stuff. From getting up at four in the morning to learning how to polish my boots.” Again Michael laughed. “Yeah, it was sorta like the movies but the important things they taught were to learn how to plan and how to stand on your own two feet. I coulda really used that big time when I was back in school, so take that to heart guys.” With that he glanced up, “looks like the old folks are about to head on out so you’d best skedaddle.”

With a few grumbles and ‘good lucks’ the crowd broke up and started heading back towards the parental units.

Nervously Carl hung back until he was noticed by the young marine. “Uh, it’s Carl isn’t it? Carl McCarrick?”

“Yeah Mike.” He paused, “I just wanted to say… come back safe and, and I’ll… pray for you.” Then he ducked his head and raced to catch up with his brothers.

“Get a move on Runt! Or we’ll leave you behind.” Sean shouted as he dived into the van.

God his brother was such a jerk.

~o~O~o~

Monday morning started as a perfect school day for February.

Sean and Carl trudged through the early morning gloom to the school bus stop, whilst above them dark blustery clouds tried to dump their chill sleet under the collars of both boys.

“Fuckin’ weather,” was all Sean managed before the two of them hunkered down under the scanty shelter of old Mrs Werrimann’s lone apple tree at the corner.

After a few miserable minutes the bus finally pulled up alongside the sidewalk, its windows already fogged up from the bodies inside.
“Get a move on kids.” The driver called out as the door swung open. They needed no encouragement and dashed for the bus. Carl wisely allowed Sean ahead, not wishing to get barged out of the way in his brother’s haste.

“Grab a seat you two.”

Sean quickly spotted a couple of his buds and swung down into the seat they had kept for him. Carl however slipped down the length of the bus looking for a space. No one made any effort to invite him to join them. To be fair he didn’t blame them. His older brothers had picked up a reputation during their time at East Side Middle School with both the students and staff, so that when Carl had turned up at the start of the school year he was already looked at askance; another of ‘those McCarrick boys’. The only good he could see from that was that few kids were willing to mess with him, despite Jimmy having moved on to become a freshman at Oak Vale High School this year.

For the rest of the ride Carl tried to ignore his damp jacket as he pulled out one of his text books and quickly refreshed the chapters he had covered last Friday. Mister Kenyon had a nasty habit of springing pop quizzes based on homework set over the weekend.

It wasn’t until Carl got to his math class that he finally began to warm up and dry out, which was a good thing. Twenty five damp students had made home room smell like a pack of wet dogs. He had just finished unpacking his text and note books when Miss Moreno came in.

“Morning class! Weather for ducks eh?” She chirped, dumping a pile of papers and her laptop on the desk. “I’ll hand out your homework at the end of class. Don’t worry, everyone got a C or better. Now let’s revise what we learned last week about exponents before moving on to see how we can use them…”

Carl enjoyed math. He liked the purity of numbers and functions. An answer was either right or wrong, there were no grey areas, no expectations from family or society, no inner doubts. He could feel the numbers in his head, fitting together in pretty patterns. For the brief time of the period he could relax. It also helped that Miss Moreno, a petite bouncy Latina, was also his favorite teacher. All too soon the bell rang.

“Well done Carl. An A+ as usual.” She winked at him as he collected his marked assignment.

“F’in nerd,” was quietly hissed behind his back as he left for his next class. Carl didn’t bother to turn round to see who it was. He was used to such complaints whilst his brother’s reputations gave him a degree of protection. He just quietly smiled to himself and headed for his locker.

After a solitary lunch period and the chance to make inroads into that night’s homework Carl took the opportunity to go to the restroom, and then backed out rapidly. Sean and two of his crowd were hassling a bespectacled kid from his home room. Nicky something… yeah, Nicky Valladares, that was it.

“What sort of faggy name is ‘Nicky’? You fuckin’ look like a fruit. You a bum chum of my faggy li’l bro?” A grunt of pain told Carl more than he wanted. “Answer me ‘Nicky’!”

By then Carl was out of the door without being seen and headed as quickly as possible for another restroom. ‘I didn’t see anything. It was just Sean being Sean. Not my business.’ He told himself repeatedly despite the warring feelings of guilt, fear and disgust. Yeah, disgust with his own family, that roiled inside him. He knew he should have done something, said something, but he had to sleep in the same room as Sean. Better to keep quiet, keep his own secrets, let someone else be a hero. Then the first bell rang and he started jogging.

The last period of the day was PE and, much to Carl’s relief, today it was in the pool. Ten minutes later the class of thirty were lined up.

“Everyone here?” The coach paused for a quick headcount then frowned. “Where’s Valladares? Anyone?”

Carl’s earlier guilt returned with a vengeance as he looked around and avoided the coaches eye.

“No? OK let’s get started. Everyone into the water.”

Carl pushed himself hard throughout the session, using physical effort to punish himself for his earlier cowardice, and he was fast. Despite his small size and build he had listened and watched as the coach demonstrated techniques and had tried his best to copy them. That in turn had drawn the coaches attention.

“McCarrick!”

Carl heard the call as he climbed wearily out of the pool. “Yes Coach?”

“Over here.” Mister Andrews turned and called out a couple more students names. When all three had assembled he addressed them. “You three did well out there today and I think you’ve got potential.” He eyed each of the boys in turn. “I’ll be holding tryouts for the school swimming squad at the start of next semester. But in the meantime I run sessions after school twice a week. If you want a serious chance in the tryouts you might want to think about it. Talk to your folks and if you’re interested get back to me by the end of the week okay?”

“Thanks Coach!” The other two guys grinned and high fived.

“None of that! I’m offering a chance, not making a promise. I’m looking for disciplined team players, not aggressive prima donnas, understood?” For some reason he was looking straight at Carl as he said it.

Carl allowed a small smile. “Understood Coach.” Yeah, the McCarrick family reputation strikes again.

Once he had gotten a seat on the bus home Carl let out a hefty sigh and tiredly started pulling books out of his backpack.

“What you doing Runt?” Sean stuck his head over the seat in front. Carl didn’t bother looking up.

“What does it look like?”

“Fuckin’ nerd.”

“No, smart. I get it done now when there’s nothing to do but sit here. Then I get more time vegging at home in front of the cartoons or out practicing hoops, while mom has you nailed to the kitchen table Dog breath.”

For a moment Sean thought about it, then shrugged as he turned back to his buds. “Like I said, fuckin’ nerd.”

By the time Carl finally finished his homework and escaped the kitchen, leaving Sean still stuck under their mothers eye, there was no chance to veg in front of the cartoons. Jimmy and two of his goons had beaten him to the couch and were already torquing the remote through the sports channels. Carl shrugged and ambled up the stairs to play on his new computer.

“So what about that Braybrooke dude? Cool or what?” One of the guys who went to their church asked the room.

“He..heck yeah.” Jimmy glanced at the open kitchen door. “Gettin’ the chance to go to cool places and scrag a bunch of rag heads.”

“Yeah, freakin’ Ghost Warrior Recon for real. And getting paid for it!” The boys laughed.

“His li’l bro’s in in my home room.” Jimmy scowled. “Every time I look at that fruit with his faggy ponytail it’s like I’m embarrassed for his brother. Like he’s disrespecting him.”

“And the Marine Corps.” Goon Two interjected as all three boys nodded. “Maybe the little fruit needs a lesson?”

Jimmy thought about it for a moment. “Nah, too much like hard work. Hey, did you guys catch the playoffs on Saturday?”

The conversation faded as Carl quickly pulled the bedroom door closed behind him and dropped onto his bed. He didn’t want to hear any more.

Dinner that night was one of Carls favorites, spaghetti and spicy meatballs. He kept his head down enjoying the food as the conversation swirled around him.

“Carl!”

He looked up with a start at the sharp tone in his moms voice, wondering what he had done wrong.

“Huh?”

“Your mother asked you a question son.”

“Uh, sorry mom. I was enjoying dinner too much.”

Maria McCarrick smiled. She loved to cook and compliments in this household were few and far between. Across the table she caught a snide whisper, “Suck-up.”

“Sean, leave your brother alone,” then she turned her attention back to Carl. “I asked how school was today dear.”

“It was okay Mom. Oh yeah…”

“Yes, not ‘yeah’.”

“Sorry Mom. Yes.”

“Well? Go on.”

“I had PE this afternoon in the pool. Anyway afterwards Coach, that’s Mister Andrews, called a couple of us over…” Carl glanced around to see all his family watching him and paused, embarrassed.

“Runt’s in trouble,” chortled his brother.

“Sean McCarrick, another word and you’re doing the dishes on your own,” Maria turned back to son number three, “go on dear. Why did he want to speak to you?”

“Well he, uh, said we had potential and that he was holding tryouts for the swimming team early next semester and there are training sessions a couple of times a week until then an he wanted an answer by the end of the week but we had to talk to you guys first. I mean each of us had to talk to our own parents, not just to you guys, and I think I want to give it a go if that’s okay with you?” Finally Carl stopped and grabbed a breath as he looked hopefully back and forth between Mom and Dad.

“Whoa, that was a mouthful son!” Brian McCarrick chuckled. “Does that mean you’ll be on the swimming team next year?”

“He said he’d give us a chance, you know, to prove ourselves. He wouldn’t promise a place.”

“And that’s as it should be. Stand on your own two feet, right? But he went out of his way to invite you, didn’t he?”

Carl looked down at his plate. “I guess.”

Brian looked over at his wife. “What do you think sweetie?”

Maria paused in thought for a moment. “This won’t affect your grades?”

“No Mom, its only a couple of afternoons after school. You know I get all my work done.”

“Alright, I agree. Brian?”

“It’s not football but the shrimp isn’t exactly built for it yet. That’ll come in a couple of years when he puts some meat on his bones right? Yeah… I mean ‘yes’, I approve.” Brian turned his attention to the rest of his male progeny. “And you two start taking notes. When am I going to see you trying out for the JV squad?”

Thankfully his parents attention moved off Carl as his siblings each got quizzed in turn and he only had to put up with the occasional glare from Sean.

~o~O~o~

Over the next few weeks Carl discovered that one of the advantages of joining the swim team development sessions was that, for two afternoons a week, Carl no longer had to travel home on the same bus as Sean and his cronies. Sure, he had to work later to catch up on his homework, but again, by the time he got home he usually didn’t have to put up with his sibling grunting and glaring from the other side of the kitchen table. He also found himself spending more time with Kathleen who got home the same time after her ballet lessons.

“Moooommm?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“What does this word mean?”

Tiredly Maria looked across at her daughter, her hands covered in flour. “I’m a bit busy right now sweetheart,” she held up her hands to show Kathleen as she saw a pout forming, “but if you ask your brother. I’m sure he can help.”

“Caarrrlll?”

Maria waited for her son to roll his eyes. Then blinked when he didn’t.

“What’s up munchkin?”

“What does this word mean?”

She watched as he got up and moved to sit next to his sister on the other side of the table.

“Can you show me?”

“Here.” Kath stabbed her finger at the page.

“Okay, so can you read me the sentence it’s in?”

“Ummm, ‘Daughter of Eve from the far land of Spare Oom where eternal summer reigns around the bright city of War Drobe, how would it be if you came and had tea with me?’”.

“Nicely read munchkin! So, do you want to guess what ‘eternal’ means?”

“Uhh, something to do with turning?”

“Good try but not quite. It’s another way of saying forever. Like ‘ever and ever’ okay?”

Maria turned away as her eyes glistened. Carl was the only one of the boys who actually made an effort to spend time with their sister. Perhaps he would make a great teacher? Unlike the other two at least he was getting good grades and didn’t keep landing himself in trouble.

Unseen behind her Carl reached over and gave Kath a quick one armed hug and smile before returning to his own homework.

Sean however was becoming more of a problem. A few days later, homework done, Carl was curled up on his bunk with a new Terry Pratchett novel he’d got from the library.

“Oi, Runt, gimme the password for your laptop.”

Carl sighed and put his finger to keep his page before looking up. “Why?”

“I wanna check a website out for my uhh, homework.”

“Use the family computer downstairs.”

“Jimmy’s on it.”

“Then who just cranked up Slipknot in his room? Kath?”

“Look just gimme the password.”

“No.”

“You’re supposed to share. I share my Xbox.”

“No you don’t. You broke one of the controllers within a month of Christmas. Anyway the only game you have is ESPN NFL which is lame.” Carl turned back to his book.

“I said ‘gimme your fuckin’ password’ Runt”.

“And I said no. Listen shit for brains, the only reason you want to use my laptop is to surf for porn right?” Carl rode straight over his brother’s denials. “What you’ve conveniently ‘forgotten’ is that Mom and Dad signed up for parental control filters so they can track what sites are visited and from which computer. Anyway, how did you know I set up password protection? You been trying to break in?”

“Fuck you Runt.” Sean quickly reached down and flicked Carls book out of his hands before stomping out on the landing and kicking the door closed behind him.

“SEAN McCARRICK! What did I tell you about stomping around the house and slamming doors? Get yourself down here young man. Right NOW!” Carl grinned as Moms voice reached him even through the closed door. He picked up his book and started flicking through to find his place.

~o~O~o~

As the weeks rolled past and the mornings grew lighter Carl began to find some small degree of acceptance at school. Teachers no longer looked surprised when he turned his work in on time, or paid attention in class. Students no longer shied away from him in the halls and canteen. A couple even vaguely smiled at him. Best of all Coach Andrews kept on encouraging him with his swimming. “If you keep this progress up young McCarrick I’d say you have a real chance of a place on the team. Next session you need to work on your racing turns, but your overall form is looking smooth. Keep it up.”

But it was only after another hard training session that Carl got the final confirmation that he was no longer ‘one of those McCarrick boys’. He’d probably spent too long in the showers but dammit, the session had left his arms and legs feeling like jelly. As Carl wandered over to his corner to get dressed he heard a couple of people come into the locker room. At first he couldn’t make out the words until he recognized one of them as Coach Andrews voice.

“So, how’s the new talent shaping up David?”

“Pretty good Phil.” He heard Coach reply. “There’s definitely three or four I’d like to see in the squad. It’s early days yet but a couple might even go all the way.”

“Who are they?”

“Well, we got McDonald and Segura in Grade seven and McCarrick and Weissmann in six.”

“Uh, McCarrick?”

Carl froze, then pushed himself further into the corner.

“Yeah that’s what I thought at first, but the kid’s nothing like his brothers. He may not be the strongest but he actually listens and tries. I also spoke to his home room teacher. The kid’s holding a 3.7 GPA and absolutely aceing math.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” The second voice sounded doubtful.

“Wait till you see him yourself. I bet he’s just as pee’d off being tarred with his brothers’ rep as we are.”

The voices moved away so Carl quietly finished up before grabbing his sports bag as he snuck out the back way from the locker room, a big grin plastered across his face.

However, despite all the distractions at school, Carl was conscious of time passing. He’d read the handouts from school about adolescent development that Sean had dumped on his desk and promptly ignored. He’d even risked a couple of quick internet searches on the family computer and in the library about the effects of testosterone. Not that he needed to, Jimmy made a point of letting everyone know that he was shaving whilst Sean teased Carl regularly about his lack of pubes. However, with every plan Carl considered, he realized he needed both money and somewhere safe to research. As Spring Break approached he was getting desperate.