Ke'Undre Wolf woke up knowing that today was going to be an odd one. He couldn't exactly tell why, but something just felt... off. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't smell the eggs, sausages, and waffles he was so used to smelling every morning. Or maybe it was because his clock was missing. Again. "I swear to God, if he took my clock again," Dre murmured as he grabbed his brush from the nightstand.

Tripping over his practice sword and shield, he stumbled out of his room, down the cream-colored hallway, and into the living room, where a man sat on the black leather recliner, eating a bowl of cereal with his nose in a book. "Ian?" Dre mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. "Ian," he called louder.

Still, he was ignored.

Frowning, Dre grabbed a coin sitting from the television stand and threw it at Ian, hitting him on the crown of his head. After taking the white earbuds from his ears, he glared up at Dre with cyan-colored eyes, contrasting to his amber-brown skin. "Where'd mom and dad go?"

"I don't know, boy. Next time you throw something at me, you gone catch four upside your head." Ian placed an earbud into his ear. Despite being nineteen, two years older than Dre, Ian still lived with their mom and dad. Even though he went to college at Henderson State University, he couldn't get a dorm room because it was too expensive. Dre figured that Ian used that as an excuse to torment him before he went to college himself.

Scoffing at his empty threat, he ran the brush through his hair as Ian continued. "They did say they had something important they had to work on. Something about getting a school prepared, I think." Ian paused to take a drink from his bottle of apple juice, making the white and clear beads dangling from his braided hair clack softly against his shoulders.

"What kind of school?"

"I ain't got all the answers, Dre."

"You barely have any answers at all," Dre said under his breath before he asked, "Didn't you try to call them?"

"I did. It went straight to voicemail."

"Huh. Both of them?"

"Yes. Both," Ian retorted sharply.

"Okay, okay, geez."

Ian stuffed a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "Oh yeah, your girl dropped by a couple of minutes ago," he said in between chews.

"Ian, I swear to God, if you make a joke about sleeping with my girlfriend-"

"You ain't gone do a damn thing, and you know it," Ian interrupted. Considering that Dre barely saw his "girlfriend," he figured that fighting Ian over insulting her wasn't worth it. "She just said that she's not going to school today, so she won't be picking you up. She's probably just using that as an excuse to be with that dude with the red bike."

Dre gave a dry laugh as he peeked into the refrigerator. "So that means you're taking me to school then, right? Wait." He popped his head above the refrigerator door. "Is that my juice?"

Ian took another sip. "First off, I'll take you to school, but if you complain about my music, your ass is walking. Second off, was. This was your juice."

"You drank my juice?! Dude! I was saving that for school!" Dre slammed the fridge door, making the fruit-shaped magnets clatter to the ground. Growling, he picked up the magnets. "Is there anything else you neglected to tell me? Like stealing my clock again?"

"How'd you know?"

Dre stared at his brother in disbelief. He marched towards him and snatched the half-empty bottle from his hand before plopping onto the couch. "Why can't you just buy your own?"

"Because you bought the last one, and I told you that if you got it, I was going to steal it. You know that I been eyeing that clock for a while now."

"You mean before I told you about it? I'm pretty sure you hadn't even heard of a laser firing alarm clock until I said anything about it."

"Whatever, man. You shouldn't be getting comfortable, anyway."

With a huff, Dre asked, "Why not? Do you have anything else to add to brighten up this already perfect morning?"

"Yeah. It's about 8:30. Forgot to wake you up."

Dre looked at Ian in stunned silence. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"You suck!" Dre called out as he rushed out of the living room and into his room. He jumped into his closet and grabbed a pair of black jeans and a silver button-up shirt. Sliding into his black boots, he rushed out the house, recoiling at the unexpected humid September air and Ian's music booming through the neighborhood.

"Get in, before I change my mind," Ian called from his black Pontiac Grand-Am, barely audible above the blaring rap music.

Dre sighed as he made his way to the passenger seat. This day couldn't get any worse.

Ian sped off of Hall Street and onto West Olive Street. His driving had always terrified Dre. Not only did he speed through the small town, but he also inclined his seat back far enough to reach the back seats. He prayed to himself as Ian drove over the railroad crossing, almost jumping it.

"Your driving sucks!" Dre called over the booming bass. Ian hadn't slowed the car or cut down the music; Dre had guessed that Ian didn't hear him. After nearly hitting a pair of pedestrians walking down the narrow, worn out West Olive Street, they finally made it to the small school.

Ian skidded to a halt in front of the cement path leading up to the school and turned down his radio. "You better hope Dixon ain't in there. There ain't no telling what that old drunk would do to you."

"It can't be any worse than your driving," Dre mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"Have a good day." Dre waved behind him as he ran down the path, up the stairs, and into the school, hoping that Dixon was late again as he moved through the foyer to the front office. Exhaling, he opened the door.