This was certainly rich, and the boy knew he’d have a ball-game when he saw him. He’d been waiting for Peter, his stepfather, for over an hour to pick him up and the man never showed. Two weeks, they’d said, two weeks without his car. Sam wouldn’t even have bothered if their home wasn’t so far, if the university wasn’t as close to school. He would have taken the bus, if he knew which to take, what route, when or where. Uber was always an option, if he had money.
This, of course, presented a grand opportunity to embarrass his stepfather. Sam knew just how much he liked the idea of being seen with him, make-up and all. Him, a professor.
Sam sat on his stepfather’s car, blue eyes narrowed against the sun. A cigarette in hand. Waiting.
/ @medealore .















