“Hey Miles whatya doing in there?” Luke asks.
No reply comes, and Luke hoverboards up and down the hallway until he is bored again.
“Milesss, how's it going in there?”
This time it’s loud enough for their Mom to hear. She steps away from the red sauce she’s making, and the familiar sound of clogs hitting the hardwood floor echoes through the house.
“Miles, you better not be on your phone.” She taps on the door.
“I’m not, it's in my pocket.” Miles’ defence is weak.
“You’ve been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes. That's it I'm taking your phone after dinner.” She says as the clog clomps fade.
The toilet flushes and Miles walks out, flips the light switch down, and walks over to Luke who has started to hoverboard again in front of the window, observing the rainy spring day.
“Mom when’s dinner going to be ready.”
“Is that really now you ask? Why don’t you help instead of just letting me be your maid.
This isn’t a hotel.”
Miles, although two and a half years younger than Luke is almost as tall as Luke’s six foot figure. 
“Honestly, why do you have to be such a dick? I’m your brother, that’s not what you do.”
“Chill dude, it was just a joke, don’t get you panties in a bunch.”
“Well now Mom’s taking my phone, and that's your problem. Go talk to her and make her give it back to me. It’s your fault.”
“Nah I’m all set.” Luke says. As he leaves, he kicks the hoverboard into the white radiator guard, which makes a loud bang.
“Stop banging things around, this isn’t a…” Their mother’s scolding is cut off as she watches Miles shove an unsuspecting Luke in the back. 
“Go tell mom, go tell her why you're being such a dick to your own brother. Luke you have no friends, no one likes you, you're an asshole to everyone and they just pretend to be friends with you. Just go off to college already, no one wants you here.”
“Miles that's enough. Luke I want to talk to you, in the living room.”
“Nah it's really ok.”
“Luke right now!”
Her demand is answered by silence.
“Ben, I need you,” she calls to her husband.
“What? I’m watching the game.”
“Go get your rude son and make him come down. We need to talk to him.

Three months before it was a sunny day, he noticed after waking up from yells downstairs. It had been a dark and depressing winter so far, and Luke felt like a run. Winter break had been boring for Luke, except for the little snowboarding trip he had gone on, he had spent most of his time in his room watching YouTube and waiting for people to text him back, which they almost never did. The small plastic pee cup on his desk reminded him that he still had to do his drug test. His mom had caught him once! He had been so good at keeping it a secret, only smoking once in awhile with friends, but all it took was one time getting caught they never let him live it down.
“Monthly drug tests, what a f***ing joke.”
He went downstairs, in his running shoes, and he’d almost made it out the door when,
“Luke where are you going? A run? Absolutely not, do you seem me? I've been up since five getting the house together for our party. First go make some breakfast, I think we have some cereal. Then go clean your room, and then you have to go vacuum my car.” His mother’s mind was clearly in five different places.
“What does a clean car have to do with getting ready for your dumb adult party?”
“Just go eat and then vacuum your room and my car. Oh and yeah, people are staying in the night in you room so make it look nice.”
As luke finished his Life as he walked up to his room, purposefully knocking over one of his mom’s cloth piles. He had planned on taking a while to in his room, but cleaning always got the best of Luke, and before long he found himself a slave to his OCD. His room was spotless in 15 minutes and he moved onto the Subaru Outback. The seats cracks had sand and dog hair, and the floor was littered with dry dirt clumps.

“Luke you're the oldest in the house, you're supposed to be the leader here, not the one who starts the arguments”
Luke didn't answer. He was so sick of his family. His parents continued to lecture, but Luke was more concerned with the way his feet hit the cracks as he paced up. It was a three step process. The left foot started the right followed and had to hit the crack right in the middle of his foot, and then the left planted, spun, and the right then stepped evenly on top of the crack. Luke waited for his mom to finish. His Dad didn’t say much, he clearly just wanted to watch the Islanders game.
“Luke are you even listening? Do you even care that you're the reason this household can’t go a day without an argument.” For the first time his mother’s words pierced him.
“I’m the problem? Really…” His words trailed off to a mumble. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Are you talking under your breath Luke? Do you have a problem here? Have we wronged you in any way?” Her tone heightened and speech quickened. “We do everything for you, we drive you to your basketball practices, we cook for you, we do your laundry, and for what? So you can come home from school and hide in your room and watch Youtube until you finally get around to your homework. You take everything, and don’t give anything back. You’re a taker and not a giver. You bring us down instead of raising us up. Your snowboard desperately needed bindings right away for the trip you took, so what, you begged and begged until your father went out that very night and got them for you. But when you don’t want something, woahhh, watch out, here comes Luke, no one mess with him he’s allowed to be in a bad mood, you know why? Because can do whatever he wants and then expects to get whatever he wants.” She paused, and waited for Luke to respond.
Luke however kept pacing, turning on his heel, lining up the center of his foot to the crack, and then spinning again.
“Luke your mother is talking to you”.
“I know” He responded.
Luke knew what he was doing, and he didn’t care. They weren't going to get a single bit of satisfaction from this talk. The therapist said this was going to happen, the double team lead by his Mom, pressing him until he gave he the ball up. He had used a basketball metaphor so Luke would understand it better. They had nothing on him. They were wrong about everything, and besides, if need be he always had a ringer on his mom.

Luke’s started in the second row, (the back wasn’t dirty), made his way to the passenger seat and then to the driver’s side. He lifted up the the floor mat and his he instantly threw the mat back down. His heart raced. Luke stood up out of the car, glanced around checking to see who was around him. He couldn’t see his mom, his dad was facing the other way arranging greens and winter berries on the stoop, and someone was unpacking a car across the driveway. He had time to peak. He turned the vacuum back on placed it on the seat, and pulled up the mat. A lighter with big blue and orange I on it. Beside that there was a small rectangular wooden box. Again Luke looked up, scanned around, moved the vacuum, and bent back down into the driver's seat. He already knew what it was, and his mind was racing. The top of the cigarette pack sized box pivoted off and inside there were two different objects, with a separator in between. One was green, filled halfway up, and almost certainly weed, while the other was one of the oddest and smallest pipes he had ever seen; it screamed hippy.
Does my mom really smoke? He was both shocked and disgusted, and did another quick lap around the car, pretending to clean while really looking to find anything else. But the little box called to him. It seemed like a dream, and he had to check again to see if it was real. There was no way, no possible way, how could she? But as he pulled up the mat again, there lay the box. He dropped the mat and closed the door.

“Who are you? You’re not the son I raised, what happened to you? You set the worst tone around the house, your brother and sister look up to you. You need to be a role model, not a self entitled little brat.”
“Oh so I’m the one who has to be the role model around here?” He said under his breath.
“What did you say? Ben what did he just say? Are you talking back to me?
“Yah, and I really just don’t care anymore. You guys honestly are the worst f***ing parents, you think you are caring and want the best for me but really you just drag me down and point out all of my imperfections.” Now it was Luke's words that flew out in a frenzy.
“All you do is nag, nag at me and expect that by doing that you will better me? That’s some great logic.” Again his voice trailed off.
“Really?” She paused, scoffed, and continued “ Really? Name one thing I’ve done wrong. I do everything for you, so go ahead, please, tell me where I haven’t been a good parent.” She had exploded.
In some ways this is what Luke had been waiting for. It hadn’t ever been thought out, he had been spacing out too much, too focused on the cracks to actually try to guide his Mom into a trap, but that’s what had happened.
“Never mind, you wouldn’t like what would tell you.” Luke set the trap.
He had decided that he hated his mom. Every time she left the house was nicer. His dad would cook food for him and bring it up to his room as he did his homework. His dad would bring him up snowboarding, and out fishing, and watch all of his basketball games. And what did his mom do? Nag him and smoke weed, and after all the preaching about drugs and drug tests, this was it.
“Oh no Luke please tell me.” Her response was lathered with sarcasm.
He paused for a while and slowly, calmly counted out five back and forths.
“No just forget it.” He said grinning inside.
“Luke just tell me” Came her voice frustrated and still sarcastic.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes”
“Ok then” He paused.
He was suddenly enraged. How dare she play this off? How dare she look that smug? She has no right to look that way. She’s been lying this whole time to us, and pretending like she’s some angelic figure that never did anything wrong. How dare she!
“So you know… About a month ago, it was right around Christmas… and well… you had me clean your car…” He paused trying to calm himself and slow down a little.
“Well you know, I found something in your car. Right under the mat in the driver seat. You know what I found?” He didn’t give her time to finish.
“I found weed and a pipe mom, your weed and your pipe, you know, just lying there. And I know it was yours. The Islanders lighter is from a package we have in the house. Dad never drives your car and I found it before all the people at the party arrived. Don’t try to deny it, you’re not a good role model, you’re a liar, a hypocrite and I hate you.” Luke finished his rant in under thirty seconds.
His heart was beating, head pounding, his feet felt like bricks; his pacing had stopped for the first time in hours. The silence seemed like an eternity. His Mom, suddenly much calmer glanced at her husband.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said in a flat tone.
“Oh sure!” Luke hissed at her.
“I’m being honest Luke I don’t know whose that is, and it’s not there anymore.”
“Well you must of moved it, and it's certainly not anyone else's because it was a lighter from the house, and it was there before any of the guests showed up, and if that’s your best excuse I guess you’re not that good of a liar then.”
Again she looked over at her husband, begging for help, but Luke didn’t care. He had won. She was cornered.
“Well I’m going to leave now. You have a great night, and I hope you can live with yourself now that you realize how much of a hypocritical ass hole you are.”
Luke lay down in his bed, still shaking, but he felt good. He had only attacked the parent who had attacked him. He caught his Mom, made her look stupid, and didn’t harm his Dad in the crossfire.
His adrenaline started to go away, and he suddenly became really tired. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs. The hallway light turned on and his Dad was in the doorway.
“Go away. You didn’t do anything and I want to go to bed.” He rolled over
“Luke” He said as he sat down on the bed.
“Go away”
“Luke you have to know something.”
“What.”
“It was mine. The box was mine, and your Mom is extremely hurt. She had no idea about it, I never told her...” This was the first time he had ever seen his Dad cry.
“Luke, when your mom caught you smoking I didn’t know what to do. You were experimenting, just like I had when I was a kid. I wanted to defend you, tell her that the pee test were bull s***, but I didn’t have the courage. I was afraid… afraid that she wouldn’t take that too well.”
There was a pause.
“Look luke. I don’t blame you if you're mad. You have a right to be mad, I’m the hypocrite, not your mom. I’m the one who didn’t stand up for you and defend, even though I have been doing the same things for years behind your Mom’s bad. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.
A warm kind of feeling took over Luke’s body. It swelled up and he lost all control. His pillow was in his face and he was sobbing.