Trouble Maker_A Prescott Family Novella

by Mignon Mykel

  Caleb and Jon Jon were any indication, I still had a summer or two to grow.

  “Don’t be stupid with your body, Porter. Take it easy. You’re afraid of me taking hockey from you? If you ignore your body and your head, you’ll be taking it away from yourself.”

  “I got it, Dad.” I was getting antsy under his scrutiny, but stood still.

  “’Kay. Go rest.” He squeezed my neck and, good God, pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re a good kid, Porter.” He let me go and stepped back, moving to the kitchen to be with Mom now. “Usually,” he added over his shoulder with a grin and a laugh.

  My face mirrored Dad’s in every way as I made my way up to my room.

  December

  If there was one thing to be said for my schedule these days, it was that it made for quick weeks.

  During the school week, I was doing pre-school gym with the team, arriving at six-thirty. Then there was school, followed by practice or a game. Nights that I had a game were my reprieve; those were the nights I got to spend thirty or so minutes with Mo on the drive home, only to get home and hit the sack.

  Nights I had practice, though, I was sticking around the Ice Plex and helping with the youth program until eight at night, when Dad would take me home.

  And that was just during the week.

  On Saturdays, I was going from six a.m. practice at the high school to the youth program, to the weight room for team gym, and then to a final practice.

  They made for long days, but I wasn’t stupid. Dad was insuring that I wasn’t going to have time to get into trouble.

  And if I found time, I didn’t have the damn energy.

  I yawned as I twisted the combination to my locker, thankful that it was the last class for the day. This was the last week and it was Winter Break too. God, I needed the rest.

  I was thinking about Winter Break and how much time I’d hopefully be able to spend with Mo when Alex crashed into the locker next to mine.

  “Dude, just hold on to this for me.” Alex stuffed a baggy onto the top shelf of my locker.

  I didn’t have to see the contents to know what it was.

  Athletic Codes meant nothing to this kid.

  Can’t smoke? Who cares.

  Can’t fail classes? He’d get out of it.

  Drugs are a big no?

  Ha. He’ll prove to all of you how he could be high and play a good game, all while making the world think he was a great student and an example for the athletic-student association.

  I reached back to try and grab the bag of weed to give back to him, but Alex pulled my arm out.

  “Alex, I don’t want that shit in my locker.” My voice was low and I shifted my eyes to see if any teachers were monitoring the halls between periods.

  Alex put the bag back in. “Mrs. Shityourpants is standing right next to my locker. I can’t put it in mine. Just for the period, Ports. I’ll get it after English.”

  I ground my molars. If I was caught with weed in my locker, I was done. Between the pool incident and a couple failed tests, I was already pulled aside by the school’s athletic director. That’s not even to mention what my parents would do. I was almost finished off paying Dad for his truck, and I thought I was finally on good terms with both Mom and Dad.

  “Alex, no.” I reached in for the baggy one last time and stuffed it against Alex’s chest.

  “It’s just one freaking class, Prescott! Chill.”

  “No, Alex.” I wasn’t getting caught with weed in my locker, be it a fifty minute class or the rest of the day. I pushed Alex back before slamming my locker door shut. “Just…put it in your backpack or something. I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late for class.”

  My next class was clear on the other side of the school and if I was late, Mr. Stanford would make an example out of me.

  Always did.

  Didn’t matter if I was on time or not.

  The man had a vendetta against me, I swear.

  I stepped away from my locker, not sparing another glance toward Alex.

  I didn’t give two shits what he did with his weed, just so long as it wasn’t in my locker.

  Ten minutes remained in class when the door was pulled open and the principal walked in.

  “Excuse me for the interruption, Mr. Stanford. I need to borrow Porter Prescott for the remainder of your class.”

  Shit.

  It was never good when the principal pulled you from class.

  I gathered up my book and papers, standing and holding them all in hand against my body, while wracking my brain, trying to figure out what I could have done wrong.

  Shoot. Did someone overhear mine and Alex’s conversation?

  Guilty by association was a true thing in this school.

  “We have a test tomorrow, Mr. Prescott. Please prepare,” Mr. Stanford said as I passed him. Principal Jenkins held the door open for me and exited into the hall after I did, closing the door. I waited for him, following him down the hall, down a flight of stairs, and toward the office.

  The front office had a wall made of glass and seeing the Sheriff and K-9 sitting on the other side…

  “Fuck…”

  He fucking didn’t.

  There was no way on earth that Alex got back into my locker and left that shit in there.

  “Language, Mr. Prescott,” Jenkins said, leading me into the main office and toward his own office. Sure enough, the Sheriff and his dog followed, closing the door behind him. I eyed the dog wearily, but he sat next to his handler, tongue out, eyeing me back, but otherwise looking relaxed.

  “I assume by your word choice that you know what this meeting is about, Mr. Prescott.” Jenkins sat at his desk, leaning forward with his hands steepled in front of him.

  “It’s not mine.”

  Jenkins smirked, but covered it up by lowering his mouth to the tips of his fingers. “With your record, Mr. Prescott, I’m afraid that not only are you being pulled from the hockey team, but you are facing out-of-school suspension. That’s not even to begin speaking of the legal consequences.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I sat up, my face pulled tight. “It wasn’t my weed!”

  Jenkins wasn’t hearing me. “We’ve already contacted your parents—”

  Fuck me.

  “—and they are aware and on their way.”

  The cop finally spoke. “Under Wisconsin state law, we can charge you for possession. So long as it’s a first offense, you’d likely only be looking at counseling and probation.”

  “I’ll take a fucking piss test!” I stood up, anxiety more than anger rolling off me in waves. I was not going down for this. “It’s wasn’t mine! It was Alexander Ponch’s.” Alex could fucking rot in hell for all I cared at the moment. The asshole probably heard the cops were coming and that was the reason he was so adamant on getting the weed in my locker. I may have a record with the school when it came to grades and my mouth, but Alex was known to be caught outside of school with drugs. “He tried to stuff it in my locker before class and I told him no. I shut it and left for class. He must have put it in there after I left.” I looked at Jenkins and pointed to his computer screen. “Pull up video. I swear I’m not lying.”

  Jenkins looked momentarily taken aback, as if he hadn’t even thought there’d be another explanation.

  Never was when it came to me.

  He sat up, finally lowering that stupid-assed hand gesture he did all the damn time, and turned to his computer to pull up the hall monitors.

  After a moment of fiddling with different keys, Jenkins glanced at me, then the cop, before looking back at me. “It appears that camera isn’t working.”

  “Of course it’s not.” I plopped back down in my seat, thoroughly exasperated. Crossing my arms over my chest once again, I pleaded with the cop. “It’s not mine. I’ll pee in a cup; you can have someone draw my blood. I have never touched weed. It’s not mine.”

  The cop looked to Jenkins. “If what he’s saying is true,” he paused and readju
sted his utility belt, “we can bring him down and take samples once his parents get here.” He then looked to me again. “Just because you haven’t touched it, doesn’t mean you weren’t planning on.”

  “I have no intentions in touching it. Ever.”

  “Can you bring the other kid in?” the cop asked.

  Jenkins nodded and picked up his phone. I listened as he spoke with the superintendent. As soon as Alex got in here, the cop was going to have to hold me back. I couldn’t fucking believe he would do something so shady.

  Actually.

  I could.

  What the hell did that say about me?

  Before I could figure it all out though, I saw movement out in the main office, just as my parents came toward the principal’s office.

  Dad looked pissed.

  Mom looked devastated.

  I stood up just as they reached the door, Dad allowing Mom to walk in before him. “It

  wasn’t mine.”

  “Sit down, Porter,” Dad said. I wasn’t sure if he was dismissing my statement or…well, he was dismissing my statement. “Surely you have not questioned my teenaged son without his parents.” This was directed at Jenkins. Mom moved to sit in the chair next to me, but Dad continued to stand.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Prescott? I’m Sheriff Stevens.” The cop held his hand out for my dad to shake, which he did. “There hasn’t been any formal questioning, no. Your son here is pretty passionate about it not being his, giving the name of another student who it could belong to. Porter has offered to provide samples to at least prove he hasn’t taken the drugs.”

  “I wasn’t intending—” I started, but Mom stopped me by putting her hand on my arm and giving me a warning look with just her eyes.

  It was just about the only time I’d even been truly intimidated by her.

  “Let me guess. The other student is Alex?” Dad asked Jenkins.

  “I am not at liberty to discuss that with you, Mr. Prescott. I’m sorry.” Jenkins resumed that steepled-hand gesture again.

  Dad looked to me. “Porter?”

  “He tried stuffing it in my locker and I took it out, telling him I wasn’t holding it for him. He must have gotten back in my locker after I left for class.”

  “You have cameras. That was the big referendum vote four years ago. Did you pull up video?” Dad asked Jenkins, turning his attention back to the principal.

  “That particular camera was not working, no.” Still, Jenkins sat behind his fingertips. Did the guy not realize it did nothing for his image?

  I watched as the muscles clenched in Dad’s jaw before he turned to the cop. “Can we take him down to the station?”

  “Yes, Mr. Prescott. I will be sure to let them know you will be on your way. I’m sorry for all the trouble.” The cop shifted and I stood, Mom standing after me. I glanced back at Jenkins before Dad waved me over to leave the room.

  Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I mentally prepared myself for what was to come.

  Even if they believed me, even if it were proved that I wasn’t lying, there was no way this one was sitting well with dad.

  No way in hell.

  I was slowly becoming accustomed to silent car rides with my parents. Even though the afternoon played out in my favor, I knew Dad was stewing.

  When we first arrived at the station, we were told that Alex denied the allegations. Therefore, the blood panel would be the best course of action for now. However, before we left, Sheriff Stevens arrived and stated that Alex did, in fact, confess to everything, and that another computer at the school had an alternate angle, both of which confirmed my story.

  However, in some stupid twist of Jenkins’s mind, because the weed was found in my locker, for sake of school safety, I was considered to be guilty of possession and was suspended for the remaining part of the week.

  It was Thursday, so whatever.

  I think it was the suspension part that really had Dad’s pissiness in full-force, though. None of my siblings had ever been suspended, making me the first in yet another disappointing action.

  Hell, it was only for a day. Winter break was starting.

  But still, I wasn’t about to open my mouth at the moment. I wasn’t that stupid.

  Especially with him continuously muttering Alex’s name under his breath.

  When we pulled up to the house, I groaned when I saw the multiple cars littering the driveway. I forgot that every single damn person in my family was due home today.

  Ken and Avery returned home for winter break, Myke was in the family home getting ready for our trip up to the cabin, and with the Enforcers having a lucky break in schedule near the holiday, Caleb and Sydney flew in while I was in school.

  And surprise, surprise, Jonny wasn’t making it home for Christmas.

  Again.

  With the girls and Cael home, unfortunately this meant my latest issue was going to be front and center with all my siblings. This wasn’t something that was going to fly under the radar. Oh no. They were all going to hear about it.

  While we had waited for the tech to draw my blood at the station, Dad talked about canceling the trip up north for Christmas. However, because our extended family was meeting us there, he decided that because I would be with family and away from my friends, it would be ok for us to do the trip.

  The entire family was sitting in the family room, spread out among the couch and love seat, my sisters sitting on the floor. Everyone’s bags were by the door and ready to be loaded into cars for the five hour trip to the cabin.

  Nothing like your fuck-up being the center of attention.

  “I talked to Coach Max,” Dad was saying. Mom was sitting on the stoop of our fireplace and Dad stood beside her. “He’s willing to talk to the board at University to allow you in after winter break is up.”

  “You can’t reward him for this, Dad.” Caleb was sitting in a rocker with a very pregnant Sydney in his lap. Brandon was napping in their room.

  Dad looked at me as he answered Cael. “One, I think Porter knows that this is his last chance to play hockey.” Regardless of it not being my weed, I wasn’t exactly surprised that Dad was considering this my third strike. It wasn’t about the drugs; it was about my choice in friends. “East’s team won’t take him back.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What?”

  His brows lifted, Dad shrugged. “Your coach is suspending both you and Alex indefinitely.” He glanced back at Caleb. “Two, your brother would be stupid to say no to University at this point. Besides, University won’t take his shit.”

  “They’re probably stricter about grades and sports, too,” Avery offered, reiterating Dad’s point. I cut her a glance. I thought she, of anyone, would have my back. Her eyes met mine and she quickly looked down, shrugging a shoulder.

  “Porter?” Dad was waiting for my response.

  I knew that if I didn’t choose University, I was kissing hockey goodbye. I’d probably be able to get back on the team next year, but scouts were looking this year. Losing the last part of my junior year on the team was not ideal in any way.

  I could stay at Beloit East and hope I could make some sort of bang during the hockey season next year, reaching my other goals of taking down Caleb and Jonny’s names, but what was that going to get me if the scouts didn’t look at me again?

  I’d be stuck trying to get on a college team, hoping the scouts would see me then. If they didn’t, I was fucking playing for the Enforcers because that organization would take me. It was a freaking rule or something.

  I crossed my arms and took a resigning breath. I really had no choice. “Fine. Tell Coach Max—”

  “Ask,” Mom corrected.

  “Ask,” I looked at Mom, “Coach Max if I can finish the year at University.”

  “Not just the year, Porter. Your Senior year too.”

  “I get it, Dad.” I wasn’t exactly thrilled by it, but if I could still play, I would take what I could get.

  It was easy to forget about the whole school debacl
e with the holiday. I rode up to the cabin with Cael, Syd, and my nephew. Brandon was eighteen months and wasn’t the best conversationalist, but between Team Umizoomi and Blaze and the Monster Machines, he was pretty content on the five-hour drive.

  The cabin was actually a pretty big log-style house with two floors and plenty of space for the entire family. The adults all got their own rooms and prior to last Christmas, we kids were stuffed together between three rooms. With Caleb and Sydney having a kid now though, they took one of those three rooms for themselves.

  This year’s festivities had our immediate family and Dad’s parents, but also my Aunt Natalie and Uncle Joe—my cousins Kendall and Ben couldn’t make it, but Nat and Joe’s youngest, my cousin Nick, was here—as well as Uncle Ketty, Aunt Ronnie, and Teagan. Uncle Ketty always tried to get out of holidays, as he wasn’t a Prescott, but my grandparents considered him another son; he and Dad played together for many years. I suppose it was only natural to become close friends after playing together for nearly your entire hockey career.

  I couldn’t imagine being with one team, one organization, as long as Dad was with the Enforcers. I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted that, either.

  Dinner was cooking and the tree was decorated the moment everyone arrived. My grandparents liked to do that as a family, which was slightly odd to me. Why wait until Christmas Eve to decorate the tree? You had to take it down a few days later.

  The adults, adult children notwithstanding, were in the kitchen. Nick, who was thirty, was

  playing a card game with McKenna, Sydney was putting Brandon down for a nap and Myke and Cael were outside shooting pucks at one another.

  Literally.

  At one another.

  Rocket style.

  I didn’t understand it either. They were too old to be playing like that.

  Ace, Teagh and I were playing a pretty cut-throat game of Monopoly.

  I was winning, naturally.

  My grandparent’s old Australian cattle dog, Lucky, sat patiently between Ace and Teagh, probably hoping one of us would give her a pretzel or Cheez-It.