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A Second Chance

I sat in my best friend Stubby’s car and took a big long drink. I was running low on my good buddy Jack Daniels, I sighed as I threw the bottle out of the window. Today was the first day of the longest month I’d ever come to know. Today was the first day of my community service, and while the boys back home gave me hell for getting caught stealing that bottle of booze, I knew that they were grateful I didn’t get sent to jail.

I know I was I wasn’t worried though, I knew Donte would get me out soon. Donte and I have been boys since Pre School, him and my only white friend Stubby – his real name was Barry but that name wasn’t as threatening as Stubby, some of us call him Stubbs once in a while – Stubby and I are Donte’s go to boys. He trusts us with his life, as he should; I belched loudly and let out a breath in relief.


“Damn man you're disgusting.” He said in disgust. He let out a small puff of smoke. Stubby never really liked cigarettes, but that was probably the only thing I could stand to smell.

I blew in his face and laughed as he tried to back up. “No wonder why you can’t get a girl yo breath stank!”

I laughed as I sat back in the crappy worn out brown leather seat. I looked out the window, “I could if I wanted to. Girls just cause too much drama,” I shrugged it off.

“Man you ain’t had a girl in two years not since Beth…” he stopped as I glared at him.

My old girlfriend Beth died because of gang violence. I shook the painful memory away, “Aye sorry man.” Stubby said.

I shrugged, “It’s whatever man.” I sighed; it was noon time for hell to begin. “I should go though, make sure you're back by four.”

“Man just go” he said playfully pushing me out as I open the door. I watch him speed off before I turned to the white house with a red door and grey shutters.

I sighed as I took in the full view of the house; the owners of the house had a couple of rose bushed growing in front of the house. Large shrubs scaled the outside of the yard making a big square. A couple of oak trees stood strong in the yard followed by a stoned path leading from the small black Iron Gate, to the door.

I walked up to the door and took a couple of deep slow breaths before knocking. It took a little while before Mr. Carter opened up the door. He was dressed in brown khakis and wore a white polo shirt.

“Logan” he said opening the door wider, “Good to see you.”

I shook his hand, “Mr. Carter.” I pursed my lips together before continuing. “Can’t say it’s a pleasure to be here,” I grinned waiting for a snappy remark.

“You hungry Logan?” he smiled.

I smiled back, “No sir.”

He smiled back, “Good. Look Logan” he said stepping out of the house, “I would show you around but I have lunch with my boss soon. My daughter isn’t here and neither is my wife, so instead of making you clean the house today. You’ll be mowing the lawn. My daughter should be back soon though, so keep a look out.”

He walked down the steps of the large porch. “Follow me Logan.”

I followed him to the side of the house; I scoffed, mowing the lawn? I used to do that all the time as a part time job in high school; this would be a piece of cake. We stopped at a broken down shed. I watched as he unlatched the lock and then slowly open up the dusty door, it creaked loudly in protest.

“You know how to mow?”

I nodded, “Yes sir I do.”

“Good” he pushed out a John Deer mowing lawn. I grinned, it was one of those driving things this should be easy. “After you’re done just wait until my daughter gets home. When she does have her show you around the house, after that I want you to get started on cleaning the house.”

I nodded and sighed, “Yes sir.”

He patted me twice on the shoulder before leaving. I put in my headphones and messed around with my iPod. I settled on Dance the Night Away by David Banner. It was one of the calmer music on my iPod, well besides some of the country songs I owned. I climbed on the lawn mower and watched as the engine came to life as I turned the keys.

I drove out, Mr. Carter had just left. I began in the back yard. Mowing the backyard didn’t take long, just five minutes; the grass wasn’t growing very much. I backed out to the front yard; the grass was so thick I’d have to go around twice.

I leaned back and used one arm to steer and the other to switch songs. The sun was beating down hard, after ten minutes I sweated through my shirt. I drove to the porch, took my white shirt off, and threw it on the porch railing to dry. Much better, I looked down at my baggy jeans; I wish I could take them off. But I was in a rich neighborhood; I had to keep it somewhat classy.

I looked up to see a pretty girl with crème skin, long wavy dirty blonde hair, and green eyes walk up. She looked like a goddess; she wore a strapless white Hollister dress with white sandals to match. Her dress showed off her perky breasts, hugging her waist comfortably was a grey ribbon. Her dress laced at the bottom, it looked flawless on her. Black shaded aviators rested on top of her head.

I turned off the lawn mower, “If you're looking for Mr. Carter then I have bad news” I said staring down at her, “He’s not home.”

The girl grinned and walked up to me. Her hips swung in a hypnotizing way, I concentrated on her beautiful green eyes. She rested a hand on the top of the lawn mower. “I'm Mr. Carter’s daughter Rachel.” She smiled revealing the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. She tilted her head to the side, “And who might you be?”

I leaned forward, her shiny pink lips pursed together. “I'm Logan.”

She grinned, “Ah the petty theft.” She looked me up and down, “So you're our slave for the month. Well good then this should be fun.” She stepped back and reached into her big white and blue striped beach bag for her house keys.

“I’m a lot of things but not a petty theft.” I said trying to defend what little honor I had.

“Please” she snorted, “Anyone who steals is a petty theft. At least in my eyes,” she smiled. “You're a cute one though, how old are you?”

“20 and you?”

“18 just finished high school. Are you thirsty?”

I shrugged, “A little bit.”

She smiled, “Wait here, I’ll get you something to drink.” She looked over at the porch, “Is that your shirt?”

I nodded, she went over to grab it by the tips of her two fingers “I’ll wash it I suppose. No use in letting a shirt basks in its own filth while a perfectly good washer sits in the basement.”

She walked up to the door, unlocked it, and left it wide open as she went in. I shook my head as I started the lawn mower back up. She’s pretty hot, maybe doing community service here wouldn’t be too bad.



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