Theo Hagan, a twenty-five year old, picked up a ringing phone at two in the morning and now he's an hour outside of town to pick up his drunk fifteen year old brother and his equally drunk friends.
He's tired. He wants to go to bed. He's a little pissed that none of these bozos had an actually plan on how they were going to get home when they decided to go to an out of town college party but..
This is a great deed because he'd prefer it his brother didn't die (so he can kill him himself) and because good things happen to those who do good things, right?
Theo just got sucker punched with, "You're like a dad to me."
"No," He says to the drunk teen in the passenger seat of his car. "No, Steve. No, Iβm not."
"You're my dad," Steve insists, slurs. Twists the knife in deeper and ages Theo twenty-five additional years. "Wish you were my dad."
"Iβm your brother," Theo says because it's more or less true. "Iβm like a brother to you. Not a dad."
"No," Steve shakes his head and then stops when the world shakes with it. "You're like - no, I mean. I wish you - I wish my dad was like. Was like you. I wish he was like you."
That was...better? Maybe. Not by much.
"You're nice to me," Steve says heartbreakingly simple. He takes a breath and then asks like every other overly emotional teenage drunk, "Do Tommy and Carol hate me?"
"No. If anything, they like you too much."
"They went into McDonalds to get us food before we drive an hour back home, remember?" He says, looking up to see where those idiots are and... "They're getting handsy. Great."
Tommy and Carol stop kissing to laugh when Theo yells out the window, "Get in the car, assholes."
"I love ya, kid," Theo says as Tommy yanks open the door to the backseat and spills in.
He reaches into the backseat to grab the food and to slap Tommy upside the head. He tells Steve, "You're my favorite."
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