Sophie's Throughway by Jules Smith Page B

I’m not afraid to use it.” I pointed the potato peeler at him.
    â€œGot myself a chick last night Mama!” he said, flexing his muscles and making his friends spit their Cheerios all over my table.
    â€œOh..?”
    â€œYep. She’s been after me for months but..you know, I let her sweat for a bit.”
    â€œYou’re such a dick Brendon,” Joe sniggered, “you know she’s only going out with you so she can get close to me.”
    â€œYeah whatever, Joe, you fag.” He walked over to Joe and put him in a friendly headlock as he tried to eat his cereal.
    â€œAnd who is this girl?” I asked.
    â€œHer name, Mother , is Jessie.”
    â€œYou mean Hussy,” Tom chipped in from the table.
    â€œShut the fuck up Tom, you waste man. Like man won’t leng you down! Brendon joked. “When you’re as hench as me then the babez may come a running…but… that’s never going to happen to you, fat boy!”
    I found it amusing that boys used insults as a term of endearment. Especially Brendon. He would always take it one step further than most, picking out all their faults and weaknesses and using them as ammunition. I wondered how his friends coped with him sometimes. They eitherfound him fun and refreshing or were too scared to make a fuss.
    â€œI hope she ISN’T a hussy!” I said. The last thing I needed was some young girl being knocked up, “And how old is she?”
    â€œSixteen and sweet.” He smiled at his mates who all cracked up laughing. “No seriously Mum, she’s really nice. The only problem is she’s a devout Catholic. You know what I’m sayin’..”
    â€œWell good. I’m glad she is. Maybe she can teach you some morals and how to be pleasant. Maybe she’ll convert you into a good boy since I am unable to get through to you.”
    â€œERRR – not gonna happen Mommy. I am a true atheist. God is for people who are just scared of dying.”
    I left the God conversation for now. I’d been in that debate several times and told Brendon that he shouldn’t argue with people who had faith in something just because he thought it was a load of bullshit. I was glad he’d met a nice girl and just hoped he wouldn’t start trying to argue with her about religion. I also hoped she’d last longer than the other girls before her who had been instantly discarded when they got too needy.
    His friends finished their breakfast and got ready to leave so they could all get back together virtually in the next hour, to fight the bad boss. As I shut the door to them and said goodbye I was left in the hallway with Brendon.
    â€œI’m going for a shower.” He went to go upstairs.
    â€œWait!” I demanded, “I want to talk to you. I want togo through this issue with marijuana. I’m really not happy about it and what you did to me and your Dad. And the governors meeting. We need to discuss that. You need to start behaving. Big time.”
    â€œNot now, I’m too tired. Look, the weed thing, get over it. I’m going to have it now and then so I can either tell you about it or do it behind your back. Make a choice. I know I’ve got to try harder at school. I GET IT Mum. You don’t have to keep going on about the same shit.”
    â€œWell I’m not supporting you any more unless you make a massive effort.”
    â€œYeah, Mum. Yes you will. And I do make an effort, believe it or not. “He trudged upstairs indicating that the conversation was now over.
    I let it go. Picking your moments was crucial in order to stop a kick off. Sometimes you just had to trickle your concerns through via constant nagging and pray he eventually got the message.
    I went to the living room and flicked on the magic box. There was nothing particularly interesting on. I hated Sunday nights. They always seemed a little depressing and uncomfortable like that night before school