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“I know far more than you. You're just a kid.”
I can't blink back the tears that fill my eyes. “I’m not a kid. I’m a goddamn adult and I can’t believe you would have the audacity to cross a line like that. How could you? What gives you the right to decide where I live or what I do?”
“Maybe this will teach you to be honest and not hide things from me.” He’s reprimanding me like a child. Whatever made me think I could get through to him. Whenever I think I’m getting ahead, he dumps a bucket of ice water over my head to show me how little I know. It’s clear as day that he’s losing his mind.
“You want me to treat you like an adult?” he continues, spearing a piece of meatloaf on his fork before popping it into his mouth. “Then you need to act like one, which means realizing the importance of staying away from that friend of yours and her father. I’m sure the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She can't be trusted.”
“That’s rich, coming from you. If there’s anyone that I can’t trust, it’s you! Look at what you did!” Anger pulses deep in my veins, and I walk out of the room before saying something I inevitably regret later. The only place I can escape to is my bedroom, so that’s where I go. Another second in that kitchen with my father, I might not be able to come back from the things I’d say.
I don't get it. I can't understand what's going on inside his head. What would make him believe that was a rational thing to do? How did things get this far, from adoring overprotectiveness to flat-out insanity? My heart’s pounding so hard I feel dizzy. I have to scream into a pillow or else risk breaking down in sobs.
This is a nightmare. My conscience is getting to me–all the lying had to wear me down eventually. I’m going to wake up any second now and feel a rush of relief. Nope. No such luck. I’m very much awake and very much trapped. I want to call the landlord, but I don't want to look like a complete loser while attempting to explain why my father would do what he did. It’s pointless now, anyway. I’m sure they filled the vacancy.
I grab my phone and call the one person my father doesn't want me to have anything to do with. Lucky for me, she answers right away. “Hey, what's up?” Her voice is a little flat, lacking its usual sparkle, although she sounds better than the last time I saw her.
Everything pours out—except for his comments on her, of course. She can't know about that any more than she can know what he thinks Callum did. By the time I’m finished, I’m wheezing and on the verge of tears.
She blows out a long whistle. “Wow. He's absolutely lost his fucking mind.”
“I know, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
Here I am, sitting on my bed, a hand cupping my mouth and the phone speaker. I might as well be a teenager again, venting to my best friend about how mean my father's acting. It's like we're both reverting, and I don't know how to stop it. Actually, I do. I know exactly how to stop it. I was trying to, and then my father ruined it.
“I wish I knew what to say. I guess I know how you feel, sort of. You know how protective Dad is of me.”
“I do.” And more than ever, I wish I was with him right now. I need somebody to hold me and understand what I'm going through. I'm so desperate and needy that I want him with every fiber of my being, no matter what he’s done to hurt me. I’m alone, and I hate it. I can feel the darkness circling me like water going down a drain.
“Mhm, I have an idea. Let’s run away again. For real, this time.” I’d think she was kidding if there wasn't actual enthusiasm in her voice. She sounds clearer than she did when she first answered, too. “We could leave, and I mean really leave. Go to a different state. No one will be able to find us. We could start totally new lives, be completely different people. Haven't you ever wanted to start over? In a new place with a different name where no one can ever find you?”
The hope in her voice is like a punch to the gut. She's that eager to run away from her problems. I won’t deny it; it’s tempting. The idea of running away, hiding, putting everything behind us. I’m so caught up in the notion that I’m even about to ask her where she thinks we could go, when something stops me.
