The Saintwood Series

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Arriving in Saintwood

Frazier

We packed and left last night, turning up in a city called Saintwood. Dad found a shack and paid cash for it. It had your standard rooms with two bedrooms. I settled into my bedroom and looked around at it.

“Dylan!” Mom said.

“I’m in my bedroom!”

Mom came into the bedroom and stood close to me. “It’s not fancy. But we can make do, right?”

I exhaled. I didn’t blame my mom for coming here. She did what she could for me.

“Hopefully, you’ll make friends at this school.”

“Eh, it doesn’t matter. If people don’t want to be my friend, then they lack taste.”

Mom gave me a strange glance.

“Gloria!”

Mom sighed. I knew what was coming. She left the room, and I followed. The minute she reached the bottom step, Dad hauled off and swung, except that he hit me instead of Mom.

“Dylan!” Mom said.

I gripped my nose as blood dripped from it. “I’m okay.”

Mom took care of me. Dad glared at me, but I didn’t care. One day, the asshole will pay.

Mom cleaned me up and placed an ice pack on my nose. I held it, trying to stop the blood. It didn’t matter. As soon as Mom left the house, I endured punishment from Dad, especially when he drank. I didn’t understand why he hated me so much, but the feeling was mutual.

Mom had me go upstairs and lay down. I ascended the steps but didn’t lie down but threw open my window, climbed out, and shimmied my butt until my feet hit the ground. If my parents wanted to stick me in an unfamiliar place, they had another thing coming.

I explored Saintwood, finding it your typical suburban city where people had beautiful yards and houses and saying hi to their neighbors. I strolled through the neighborhood, whistling. Okay, so Saintwood wasn’t terrible, and it’s better than the last city, which was the lower class.

I checked out some stores and restaurants, coming across a group of girls. Okay, it’s getting better here. The girls were hot, and I used my charm. “Ladies,” I told the girls.

They stopped and looked at me.

“Did anyone tell you that you’re a gift from heaven?” I placed one arm around one girl and another arm around a different girl. “I have a philosophy that all girls are beautiful and a present. Guys are lucky if you pay attention to them.”

“Who are you?” One girl asked.

“Who I am isn’t important. Who you are is. Girls are a gift, and you treat them as such. When you cherish a girl, the girl will cherish you. It’s a solution where everyone benefits.” I winked.

That caught the girls’ attention as I charmed them. These girls ate up this bullshit. Okay, note to self. The girls in Saintwood were a little dumb and reminded me of the girls back home.

I dated a couple of girls and had a girlfriend for a brief period, got my cherry popped, and it ended. I told no one because Mom would flip out. She thinks I’m sweet and innocent, and I prefer to let her believe it. My mom was everything to me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.

Out of the group of girls, I hooked up with one. The girl was a little older, and we made out in her car. That escalated with us having a lot of fun. The girl wasn’t the only one. I found many girls here willing to drop their panties.

Do these girls not have any dignity or self-respect? Ah, who cares? I’m fifteen and a horny teenage boy. If a girl wants to ride the Frazier train, then so be it. She has excellent taste.

The problem with this idea, you never knew who had a boyfriend. It’s not like you do a lot of talking while a girl is going down on you. Protection is vital, though. No offense, but I don’t want any visitors.

I found out that one girl I hooked up with had a boyfriend. The dude wanted to kick my ass. Does he realize I deal with a douche at home? You learn to fight back. I might be smaller, but it didn’t mean I stood there and took it.

“Get back here, you piece of s**t!” A guy and his buddies chased me down the street.

I stopped and turned. “Well, if you didn’t have a one-inch d**k, you could satisfy your girl!”

That pissed off the douche. “I’m going to break you in half, asshole!”

“You sound like a chick! Damn, dude, grow a pair, will you?”

The guys chased me, and I scaled a wall faster than your neighborhood Spider-Man. That reminds me that I need to get the latest comic book edition to add to my collection.

A visit to a local comic book store after it closed was in order. Since the idiots were too big, they had an issue climbing the wall. I jumped down and strolled down an alleyway, whistling.

Yep, I’m going to like Saintwood.

*****

Later, I snuck out of the house while my parents fought because I needed a break from the yelling. Plus, before passing out, my dad ties one on and beats the crap out of me. Yeah, no thanks.

Most businesses had closed, so I strolled to the comic bookstore. I walked around back, noticed a door, and picked the lock. People call it breaking and entering, which is criminal, but I call it using your brain.

I disabled the alarm, found the Spider-Man comic book, and searched through them until I found one and hid it in my clothes. I got the hell out of there, reset the alarm, and relocked the door.

Once the coast was clear, I flipped through the pages carefully. I placed it back into its clear sleeve as I walked.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” A voice asked.

I stopped and twisted to encounter Mario and his cronies. I hid the comic in the back of my waistband.

Mario stalked towards me. “It’s interesting that I find you here, and it will interest my dad that you’re in Saintwood.”

“Who cares? Your dad’s a douche, and so are you.”

Mario took a swing at me, and I ducked, punched him in the d**k, and dropped his stupid ass, then took off running.

“You wait, you little s**t! Your ass is mine!”

“Why don’t you suck your boy’s d**k since that’s all you’re good for?”

“You’re dead, Dylan! You hear me!”

I shook my head. Mario can f**k himself, along with my dad and his family. Stupid d***s. I hate that family.

I got home and snuck into my bedroom as my light clicked on and revealed my dad. I climbed through the window, and all hell broke loose. Well, when Dad was sober, he didn’t go after me, and it was nice while it lasted.

After Dad finished doling out his punishment, I made my way to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit. It’s pathetic that I must administer first aid to myself. I got good with sewing needles, and it didn’t faze me when I stitched myself. Now to hide the bruises because it’s not like anyone cares besides my mom.

As Mom said, it’s us against the world. Perhaps the universe will give me a freaking break.