My Cardboard Balcony

Damn It, Shane by Belinda Roddie You said you were going to buy a carton of eggs from the store, and then I found you an hour later, smoking a flute on the corner of Oak, trying to make cobras dance on the part of the street that the road workers still hadn't finished re-tarring. You had one job, Shane. One fucking job.

Derek always defended Tracey at every turn. It didn't matter what Tracey said, or did, or even intended - to Derek, Tracey was justified in regards to every trick she pulled. Some say it's typical for a father to be so forgiving of a daughter's motives. Then again, Derek even let a nearly deadly prank against his own brother slide. So his sister and I were ready to give him what for.