My father lifted the newspaper to hide his face while my mother patted my hand. I allowed myself one glare at her before losing myself in the haze of caffeine. We spent the rest of breakfast i awkard silence. Dad read and tried to avoid any eye contact with me or my mother. Mom kept throwing encouraging glances in my direction, which I deflected with cold stares. Ansel ignored us, happily munching on his PopTart. I threw back the last dreg of coffee.

" Come on, An." 

Ansel bounced from his chair, grabbing a jacket on his way to the garge.

" Good luck,Cal," my father called as I followed my little brother toward the door. I didn't respond. Most days I look forward to school. Today I dreaded it.

" Stephen." Mom's voice rise as I walked out the door and slammed it shut behind me.

" Can I drive?" Ansel's eye's were hopeful.

"No," I said, heading for the driver's seat fo our Jeep.

Ansel gripped the dashboard as I squealed out of the drive way. The scent of burnt rubber filled the cab. After I cut off the third car, he glared at me, struggling to buckle his seat belt.

" Just 'cause wearing panty hose gives you a death wish doesn't mean I have one too." 

" I am not wearing panty hose," I said through clenched teeth, swerving around yet another car.

Ansel's eyebrows shot up. " You're not? Isn't that, like, unseemly or something?" 

He grinned atme, but the dagger glare I threw at him made him cower against his seat.