The Meadow Annual Literary Arts Journal 2018

this one, Kevin,” he says for the third time tonight. I look at the alarm clock next to my bed, 3:00 am. I heave a sigh. “Did you grab me a big Red Bull?” He looks in the bag, “Na, I got something better.” He pulls a bag of cocaine out and flaunts it as if powder would entice me. My brother snatches the bag and begins making lines with an overdrawn credit card. I grab his coke straw from the sink and hand it to him. “You’re the best, bro,” He says grabbing the straw. I try to smile. His disheveled hair is greasy with a lack of cleanliness that carries onto his wife beater and sweat pants. His beard still has crumbs of a pizza we had last week, the half empty box still in the corner of the room. “Why are you studying?” He mumbles the words but I have become well versed in ‘Drunk- speak.’ “I have an AP test tomorrow. I need to pass to get into college,” I respond, wishing I hadn’t My brother and the group of degenerates that litter the living rooms scoff. “College is overrated,” he says. The girls laugh with the crowd, unaware that they are receiving an education. The sound of open beer cans resounds. Half-naked women began snorting lines of coke off one another much to the amusement of my brother and his roommate. My brother’s girlfriend sits next to him trying to remind him of her presence as he flirts with another girl. I gave up on studying; I sip on my beer watching the room. Some part of me wanted this easy life; the ability to do absolutely nothing. I heard a grumble that meant my brother had hit that point of intoxication that I tried to be away for. “Kevin, Try some coke,” he hands me the coke straw and his roommate cuts me out a line. I told him no. He shrugged and went back to his drugs and debated cheating. Five minutes later he asked again. “No,” I respond again. I know it won’t be the last time. More time passed, the girls were at the point of drunk when an 100 The Meadow