"Est tempus ad vigilaveris  (It is time to wake up)" my father says, opening the shades to reveal the blinding light.

"Ugh" I respond as the light hits me, making me cover my eyes, "It isn't even Latin class dad!"

"Sed minime prohibere exercendo. (But you should never stop practicing.)" he responded with a chuckle.

I blindly reach over to my bedside and feel around for my glasses.

I turn to face where his voice came from last, since I can't see him because I am literally almost as blind as a bat, "Where are my glasses?"

"Posce Latine. (Ask in Latin.)" he tells me, and I swivel my head toward the new direction of his voice.

"Ubi sunt glasses?" I ask with an exasperated sigh.

He places them into my outstretched hand before I hear him exit the room.  I put them on with a yawn, look around my room, and think back to when I first took Latin.  I was a freshman in high school, and since my dad took it back in high school, he strongly recommended that I take the dead language.  Following his lead, and my interest in something new, I signed up for the course and haven't been able to get out of it since.  It is helpful sometimes, but it also feels like such an annoying waste of time, since I'm never going to really use fluent Latin out in the world.  I just kinda wish my dad would give me a break sometimes.

Especially since I just got a perfect score on the AP Latin exam.

I get out of bed and finish opening the shades, letting the rest of the morning sun into my room to light up my earthly colored walls.  I put on some music and complete my morning routine before pulling my brown suitcase out of my closet and placing it on my bed. After I finish packing, I throw on a green and black striped shirt, some jeans, and grab my brown starred long sleeve.

I head down the stairs toward the loud sounds of someone cooking in the kitchen.

"Where's dad?" I ask the tall, bearded man making pancakes on the stove top.

"Good mornin' to you to, Jack." he says before turning to face me, "Since you took so damn long, your dad left for work already, but he told me, your good ol' Uncle Bobby, to give you this here note."

I stare at the note between his fingers while preparing for the inevitable battle. As I walk forward, his evil smile widens, until I'm right in front of him. I quickly reach for the note, only to be met with a scorching hot spatula in my hand and a laughing Uncle Bobby behind my back. For a big man, he sure did have fast reflexes.

"Shit!" I say, dropping the hot metal onto the stovetop, "What the fuck?!"

"That was toooooo darn easy," he exclaims before turning to place the plate of pancakes on the table, "you need to work on your reflexes and you need to toughen those hands of yours. They've gotten too soft with all that computer crap you do up in your hacker cave."

I close my eyes and try to deflect the insults, especially since I know he is just getting started. I sense him approach and decide to keep my eyes close. As he reaches his hand up, I grab his wrist as the last minute, twist his hand and dig my "delicate " fingers into his arm, resulting in a gasp emerging from his mouth.

"I do not appreciate you trying to take my glasses" I say, opening my eyes to glare at him, "and since I can barely see without these, I've also gotten pretty good at sensing my surroundings without sight... I can hear and feel a lot more than you think."

I drop his hand, "And haven't you heard... It isn't a good thing to piss off a hacker."

I shoulder past him, grab a few pancakes and my dad's note, before stomping up the stairs. Bobby opens the refrigerator door and I hear the clanking of glass as he pulls out his first beer for the day. I sigh as I close my door, glad to be leaving so I won't have to come home to smelly man passed out on our couch.

I think back to how Uncle Bobby used to be while spinning around on my chair and eating pancakes. I never saw how he could be related to my father since they were basically polar opposites in every way imaginable. Bobby used to be somewhat tolerable before his wife died. He spent almost every weekend at our house, usually watching the game with my father while his wife talked with my mom somewhere else in the house, away from the noise of the screaming men. His son was older than me and usually spent the weekend over at a friend's house. I was never really into sports, so I stayed alone in my room, doing homework and teaching myself whatever I wanted to learn - usually computer related.  Eventually, I found my knack for graphic design and coding and convinced my parents to get me a computer with a few starter pro tools.  At first I took my newfound skills and began making album covers and other things, using music as a starting point. My interest took off from there and everything was going good until his wife and my mother died in a car crash. While I watched my father break down, I witnessed Bobby disintegrate.  He no longer was the loud and sometimes fun person that brought life to the party. He took up drinking and moping around all day and his son left him to go off to college with his girlfriend. He stopped paying his bills and was kicked out of his house, and then his apartment, and ended up staying here with us. He continued to spiral downward, even after moving into our house. My father sometimes threatened to kick him out if he didn't at least try to clean up his act, but he never did. I have a feeling that they hold on to each other because they feel that they are all they have left - left of that happy time. Soon enough, Bobby began to pick on me as he became more comfortable in the household. Stuff like what happened this morning was light... Just the tip of the ice berg.

At this moment in life, cooking breakfast is the only thing he can do right.

I open my computer as I finish my pancakes. A few minutes later, I send my finished project off to Delilah to add the last finishing touches before submitting it to our school's advanced tech program. She was a computer wiz, one of the best in our small program and I was so grateful to be friends with her.

Delilah: U almost done?

Jack: Yeah, just sent it to you rn.

Delilah: ok cool. Just got it... It looks perfect so far.

Jack: ok thx. gtg

Delilah: have fun at South-lake!

Jack: lol... if I survive...

Delilah: I'm sure you will... Anyways the experience will b good 4 u

Delilah: op! Little bro throwing a fit.. Time to change diapers.. Txt me when u can Jacko

Jack: ok see ya

I shut down my computer and put my dad's note into my suitcase before zipping it up. I lock my door behind me, not wanting Bobby to get into my so called "hacker cave". I lug my suitcase down the stairs and out the door, haphazardly throwing a "farewell" to Uncle Bobby, not that he would have even noticed I was gone.

I walk up to the corner just as the South-lake bus pulls up. After it comes to a stop, I help pack my bags in the compartment before boarding. I sit down in the middle row, noticing the small amount of people on the bus, my eye catching on a girl in a beaning with "LOVE" written on it. She kinda reminds me of Delilah, but I know it isn't her.

Turning away, I sit down and look out the window, wondering how I am going to survive the next months.

💠

Hello!

Yay for the first boy POV in this book.

And yay for meeting half of the cast of Camp.

And sorry for all this death of loved ones in this book already... But I can tell you that it will not be a focus of the book. 

Also, PLEASE let me know if you see any other mistakes (i.e. grammar, punctuation, etc.)

Question:

What do you think of Jack?

Don't forget to answer, vote, and comment. 🗣👍🏾💬

ATCAgainstTheCurrent ✨