Chapter 5 : Hypocrite

During Winter Break, I finally checked off a major milestone: I took the license test I’d bailed on back in the summer. Tyson was a lifesaver, riding shotgun to give me a refresher on the theory before the actual exam. Alvin wanted to do it too, but he got cold feet midway through and decided to wait until he turned 18. The test was smooth sailing, and walking out with that plastic card felt like freedom. Finally, I could drive my own car legally. No more looking over my shoulder for cops like a fugitive.

A week before Christmas, the invite dropped: a house party hosted by Jones’s friend, Kazeem. The boys made an executive decision not to bring the girls—the tension with Jessica was still too thick, and we wanted a night to "explore" without drama. But Amy, being Amy, insisted on joining, so Tyson was effectively neutered. Jones was hyped, swearing the girl-boy ratio would be "perfect." With Alvin finally joining in, the squad was complete.

I swung by Alvin’s house to pick him up. When he walked out the door, I nearly slammed on the brakes.

"What the fuck are you wearing, man?" I stared. He was wearing a bright red, fuzzy sweater with "Merry Christmas" stitched across the chest.

"It’s a Christmas party, isn’t it?" he asked innocently.

"No! For fuck's sake! You look like you're 12 years old! You look like an elf!"

I threw the car in reverse and dragged him back to my place to lend him some decent clothes so he wouldn't look like a walking virgin.

We arrived at the mansion a little late due to the fashion emergency. The snow was falling gently, friendly enough that the roads weren't slick.

"So, we going in?" Alvin asked, eyeing the big house nervously.

"Of course, dude. What’s the point of coming here if you want to rot inside the car? Come on, it will be fun."

Inside, the vibe was perfect. It wasn't a rager—more of a "chilling" party, which was the perfect starter pack for a nerd like Alvin. We greeted Kazeem, the host, and found Jones already holding court. Tyson and Amy had secured a prime spot on the sofas.

"You look tense, Al. Chill out, will ya?" Tyson laughed.

"Loosen up, man," I said, smacking Alvin on the back harder than necessary.

We settled in, but Jones disappeared. He returned a minute later lugging a whole crate of beers.

"Look what I found here, gang!" Jones grinned, slamming the crate onto the table.

"What the fuck? You stole it, didn't you?" I asked.

"The details aren't necessary, brothers and sister!" Jones waved his hand dismissively. "The night is still young, and we have games to go!"

"What game do you have in mind, clown?" Tyson asked, cracking a bottle.

"Look, look, there are many girls here we need to conquer, see? Except you, Big Guy," Jones pointed at Tyson. "So it’s challenge time!!"

"Uhh, lucky you," Tyson mumbled into his drink.

"What’s that, babe?" Amy stared daggers at him, her eyes narrowing.

"Nothing! Let’s dance after I finish this bottle, babe. Let’s leave those virgins alone."

Once the happy couple left for the dance floor, Jones worked his magic. He managed to pull some girls into our orbit for games. I had to admit, the guy was a social engine; we were having a blast. Eventually, Jones scored a girl, and even Alvin looked comfortable chatting up a girl on the sofa.

And me? FUCK. I was the third wheel to my own squad. Feeling suddenly invisible, I decided against getting drunk on the couch and headed outside for a smoke.

The cold air bit at my face, a sharp contrast to the humid heat of the party. I saw a small group huddled near the porch.

"Mind if I join here to smoke too?" I asked.

"Sure, sure man, join us. Name’s Randy, by the way. This is Mary, Renna, and Stephany."

"Hi, nice to meet you guys, I’m Daeron."

"I bet you were left out by your friends, right?" Stephany asked, eyeing me with a knowing smile.

"Yep. They’re busy with their girls," I said, tapping a cigarette out of my pack.

"I told you, the girls outnumber the boys tonight," Renna laughed.

"Need a lighter?" Stephany offered, holding out a flame.

"Sure." I leaned in, the fire illuminating our faces for a second. I took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs.

"So Daeron, I never saw you before, are you friends with Kazeem too?" Randy asked.

"No, actually, my friend Jones is the one who invited us."

"Oh, you came here with Jones? You’re friends with Tyson then?" Stephany asked.

"Yeah, we hang out a lot actually, at school or outside. How do you know Tyson?"

Randy squinted at me through the smoke. "Dude, we go to the same school! Wait... I think I know you!" His eyes went wide. "You’re the guy who slammed Herald, right?"

"Uh, yeah," I exhaled a cloud of gray. "More or less."

"Holy shit. I thought you were a total weirdo, man—no offense—but I didn't picture you as a chill guy." Randy shook his head in disbelief.

"Heh. Well, Tyson and Jones thought that too before."

We stood there in the snow, chatting and laughing. It hit me then—I had missed out on so much of high school life by isolating myself. I didn't expect the "randoms" to be this chill.

The smoke from my cigarette swirled into the night air, mixing with the falling snow.

"So, Daeron," Stephany said, eyeing me over the glowing tip of her cigarette. "Why didn't Jessica join you tonight? I thought you guys were inseparable."

I paused mid-drag. "Huh? How did you know about Jessica? I thought you didn’t recognize me five minutes ago."

"Umm, well..." She hesitated, looking a bit embarrassed. "Because it’s well known at school that Jessica and her gang like to hang out with... umm... sorry to say, the 'weirdos' at the courtyard. Now that I know you’re the guy who slammed Herald, the pieces fit. So, I’m curious why she isn't here." She winced slightly. "Sorry if that came out wrong. No offense."

I laughed, exhaling a cloud of gray. "Hahaha, chill, it’s alright. I own the title. To be honest, we just wanted a boys' night today. Amy was the only exception because Tyson can't say no to her."

"So... the rumor is true then? That you’re dating Jessica?"

"What? No," I shook my head firmly. "Not at all. We’re just good friends."

"Ah, I see. I’m sorry, I know it’s silly to listen to gossip. But I was curious. There’s so much speculation about who she's dating, and you’re the hottest rumor on the list because you two are always together."

"Well, a rumor is just a rumor," I said, flicking the ash away. "Nothing more."

She took a step closer. "So, that means there’s no 'Daeron’s Sweetheart' right now?"

I smirked, turning to face her fully. "Nah. How about you? Is there any 'Stephany’s Prince' waiting in the wings? Or perhaps... you’re interested in applying for the position of 'Daeron’s Sweetheart'?"

She bit her lip, smiling. "Ohhh? And what’s the requirement to become 'Daeron’s Sweetheart' then? Since right now, there’s no Prince coming to rescue this damsel in distress."

"The requirement is simple," I said, looking her in the eyes. "Just be ready to become a weirdo’s queen."

We laughed together, the sound warm despite the freezing temperature. I rubbed my arms as a gust of wind hit us.

"Damn, it’s getting freezing out here," I said. "Wanna go dance inside? Or have you already got 'cold feet'?"

She rolled her eyes, laughing. "Hahahaha, that is so corny! But... maybe your company has already 'melted' me?"

"Hahaha, smooth. I take that as a yes. Come on!"

I led Stephany back inside the mansion. The heat of the party hit us instantly. We hit the dance floor, then joined the boys for drinks. I introduced her to Alvin, Tyson, and Jones, and surprisingly, she vibed with them immediately. For the first time in a long time, it was just a fun night—no drama, no fights, just good times.

**

After the party, life settled into a quiet rhythm. The days blurred together, filled with workouts with the boys and late-night texts with Stephany.

Three days before Christmas, I drove to the airport to pick up my parents. To my surprise, there was a third figure waiting at the terminal: my little brother, Julian. He was still in 9th grade, currently "studying abroad" in the UK. He lived with my aunt because he was... well, the posh type. Public school wasn't good enough for him; he needed the prestige of a Private Academy.

I was honestly shocked to see him. Usually, he snubbed our humble holidays to celebrate with my aunt’s family, where the Christmas trees were bigger and the gifts were more expensive. My parents hated that he was abroad and rarely came home, but Julian had a trump card. He always pointed out that they were the ones traveling constantly, leaving us behind for "business" or extended "honeymoons." They couldn't argue with that logic, especially since he was Mom's golden boy. Me? I didn't care. We were brothers by blood, but strangers by choice.

Christmas was... intimate. Mom took over the kitchen. She wasn't exactly a Michelin chef, but compared to the bio-hazards my dad created, her food was edible and appreciated. We had a simple family dinner, filling the silence with stories from their travels. I laughed at their bizarre encounters, though I wished they would filter the details. I really didn't need to know about their "romantic escapades" or their sex life. Some things should stay in the bedroom.

While I tried to bond with them, Julian was a ghost. He spent the entire holiday locked in his room, glued to his console, constantly whining about how much he missed London and couldn't wait to leave.

I spent the entire week grounded at home. The boys and Stephany blew up my phone with invites, but I turned them all down. It was boring staring at the same four walls, but my parents were rarely home, and I wanted to soak up the time. I suggested a family trip—maybe a cabin or a road trip—but it was shot down immediately. My parents were tired of traveling and just wanted to "nest," and Julian refused to leave his room. Outvoted three to one, I swallowed my disappointment and played the good son.

January 2010. Two days after the ball dropped, the brief reunion ended. My parents packed their bags to accompany Julian back to the UK to settle him in.

I drove them to the airport. I watched them unload their luggage, ready for another flight, another country. I couldn't go. My second semester started tomorrow. I stood by the curb, watching them walk through the sliding glass doors without me.

Was it fair? I didn't know. Did I feel like an accessory in my own family? I got back in the car and turned up the radio. I tried not to think about it.

**

The first day of the second semester hit, and weirdly, I was ready for it. School wasn't just classes anymore; it was where my crew was. Alvin, Tyson, and Jones were basically family. And Angela Peter, Alvin’s mom, was like surrogate mother to me. She always packed me a lunch when she had time. I tried to buy her a gift once to say thanks, but she threatened to cut me off if I ever spent money on her again. I backed off immediately. I wasn't going to risk losing free food.

February 2010. My routine had shifted. The boys were still the core, but Stephany was becoming a regular fixture. She was chill. She’d join us for workouts, or sometimes steal me away just to smoke outside the school grounds. The boys were all for it—they actually encouraged it. Fridays became our study sessions, mostly just us dragging Jones through SAT prep so he wouldn't fail.

My parents popped in from the UK in late January, then vanished again a week later. I barely blinked. I was too busy living my own life.

One afternoon, Stephany caught me outside my classroom.

"Daeron, can you accompany me next Saturday?" she asked, leaning against the wall.

"What time? I have Dojo training in the afternoon, but the morning is free," I said.

"When do you train?"

"Wednesdays evenings, Saturday afternoons. Why?"

"Then let’s go Sunday morning. I don’t want to be the reason you're late for training."

"Sounds good. But why do you need me to tag along?"

"Let’s just say... I need your opinion on something."

"And that something is?"

"You’ll find out Sunday! Unless you want to skip class right now and find out early?" She smirked.

"I don’t mind. I can always blame you when we get caught," I shot back. She nudged my arm with a weak punch.

"I’ll buy you a burger or hotdogs if you promise to come. Please?"

"Alright. I know a good hotdog stall at the park. You treat me to the best one, and we have a deal."

"Deal! Thank you, Daeron." She waved and walked back to her class.

As she left, I saw Jessica standing down the hall. She was watching us. Her eyes flicked between Stephany and me, and the look on her face was cold. When I caught her eye, she just turned and walked away. I checked my phone—still blocked.

After school, I headed out, my mind already on the Dojo. I stepped out the door and—

"Where are you heading?"

I jumped. "Shit! Don't pop up like that."

It was Jessica. She was standing right next to the doorframe. I stepped aside to give us some room.

"Why are you even here?" I asked.

"Why ask me like that? You don’t like me being here?"

"Who said that? I simply asked what you're doing here."

"I just wanted to come here, but suddenly you act like this! Why are you so defensive?"

"Why do you think?" I snapped. "You blocked me. You ignored me. You gave me zero chance to explain anything, and now you barge in acting like nothing happened?"

"Fine! Forget I asked! Go have fun with your Sunday date!"

She turned and stormed off down the corridor.

"What the fuck? Sunday date?" She had definitely been eavesdropping.

I stood there, annoyed, until I saw Tyson watching me from across the hall. He walked over, looking serious.

"What happened with Jessica, bro? Still heated?" He tapped my shoulder.

"Ugh, I don’t know, man," I sighed. "I think I was too harsh. I need to apologize later. The reason she’s acting like this is my fault too. After all—"

SMACK!

Tyson slapped the back of my head. Hard.

"Uhh, what the fuck, man!" I rubbed my head.

"Hypocrite," Tyson said. His voice was dead serious.

"Huh? What?"

"You’re a fucking hypocrite."

"What are you talking about?"

"Stop with the act," Tyson raised his voice. "Stop acting like you’re some noble guy! Just be yourself, man! Stop thinking 'I’m okay with this.' Stop thinking 'I’ll take the hit for others.' Stop thinking it's for a good cause. You’re not a superhero, Daeron. You’re just a teenager with a chivalrous fantasy."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"Look, it’s okay to be a good person. It’s good to think of others. But think of yourself first. Stop being a hypocrite." He tapped my shoulder, gentler this time. "Think about this: how can you be useful to others when you’re useless to yourself? And remember... we got your back. We’re brothers."

He sighed. "Now move your ass. Let’s find burgers. I’m hungry because of you."

I stood there for a second. He was right. I was trying so hard to be the "good guy" that I was screwing myself over.

"Thanks, man."

Tyson wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Anytime, brother. As long as you stop being so corny with your mindset, I won’t have to kick your ass."

We laughed as we walked out. And yeah... thinking back on it, I was being pretty cringe.