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Four
It was three in the morning when I finally got back home.
My dad was fucking pissed.
The entire drive home from the precinct he didn’t say a word. It wasn’t the first time I rode home with him in silence, but this was the first time I could actually feel the anger radiating off of him.
Usually when I got into trouble, it was Mom who would come rescue me because Dad was out of town with hockey. There was a summer though that I chose to make some not so great decisions when Dad was home.
Things like going into the school at night with Alex and the boys, and cutting down the basketball nets.
Hey, those douche bags were mocking us. They deserved it.
“Sit your ass on the couch,” were the first words Dad told me now after he unlocked the front door, shutting it behind me when I walked in. The lights downstairs were all on which likely meant Mom was awake as well. God, I hoped I didn’t have to face her.
I moved to the couch and plopped down, crossing my arms over my chest. I was back in my shirt but my shorts were inside out from the haste in putting them back on. The strings were bothering my balls but I knew if I asked Dad if I could change…
Ok, my dad wasn’t abusive but he was pissed. He’d probably tell me the strings could tighten on my balls for all he cared. When he was mad, he sometimes brought out the ‘disappointed coach in the locker room’ voice.
“What the hell were you thinking, Porter?” Dad moved into the living room, having taken off his shoes at the front door. He was wearing lounge pants and a tee that I honestly thought, up until this point, was Mom’s sleep shirt but…
God, they shared clothes.
Dad’s furious pacing, his bare feet slapping on the wood floors, brought me back to present. “Breaking and entering?” Only the coffee table separated my dad and I when he stopped his movement. He stood there, his own arms crossed over his chest and a glare in his eyes.
“And it’s not the first time! When are you going to learn, Porter?”
I knew better than to say anything. Nothing I could come up with would ease this situation. Thankfully, we were lucky and those of us that were caught got off without tickets, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Dad would tell my coach.
“Fair warning, Ports. Three strikes and you’re out. I will not hesitate to pull you from hockey, pull you from those fucking kids you call friends. You better shape up your attitude or you’re going to be disappointed in your consequences. You think it’s so tough right now? Wait until Mom and I stop paying your insurance, helping you with gas. You should have a fucking job, you’re sixteen years old.”
My arms were cramping from being crossed so tightly over my chest, every muscle in them on edge, but I wasn’t about to move from my position.
“You know what? I’m taking away your car for the semester. Learn some responsibility. Get a job and learn how to juggle school, work, and play. If your grades are shit, you’re losing your car for the year. You have gotten off so incredibly easy but I’ll be damned if I’m raising an ungrateful child.”
At that moment, Mom came downstairs, wrapped in her big white robe and a look of disappointment on her face. That was a look I was well used to. She glared at dad before turning her cool blue eyes to me.
“Go to bed. You have to be up in three hours for school,” Mom said.
Dad pointed his finger at me. “And don’t think you’re fucking skipping.”
I pushed up off the couch, my body grateful to finally be moving again, and turned to head up the stairs. Behind me, I heard my parents have a quiet conversation between the two of them.
“That may have been a little harsh.”
“He can’t stay at that school, Ryles.”
“Give him another chance,” she said, almost too quiet for me to overhear.
“He’s had too many chances!” Dad’s voice remained low, but I could still make out the anger in his voice. I was such a fucking disappointment to them. I really honestly thought they wished they stopped having kids after Avery.
“It’s a new year, Noh. He’s just acting out. I know Porter.”
“And I don’t?” Dad interrupted her. I was surprised to hear hurt in his voice.
Hurt?Dad was hurt by that statement?
I glanced over my shoulder, curious of Mom’s reaction. She had that sappy look on her face and reached up to put her hand on Dad’s jawline.
