AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He seems genuinely confused, and I guess if I were him, I’d feel the same way.
“It’s just different for me, BJ. I gotta get changed and go.” I start toward the boathouse, and he falls into step with me.
“I’ll drive you.”
“You can’t drop me off at home.” My dad will lose his shit, especially if he’s already downed a six-pack, and I definitely don’t want BJ to witness that. Dad gets mean, and it’s embarrassing.
BJ’s brows pull together, like he’s reading between the lines. “Can I take you to the T-intersection?”
I can’t let him see how bad my home life is. Right now we’re having fun, and I don’t want him thinking he needs to save me. But it’ll take half an hour to bike home. That’s too long for my mom to be alone with my dad without a buffer. If I get a ride, it’ll take me five from the T. “Yeah. Thanks. That would be great.”
I slip past him into the boathouse and quickly change. My stomach twists when I check my phone and find new messages from my mom. I can’t read the tone, but they’re short, and I imagine she’s upset.
I shouldn’t have lied. It was stupid. And now she’s probably getting grief, my dad believing she hid this from him.
It doesn’t matter that he knows she can’t lie for shit; he loves to be angry. He just needs someone to direct it at. It’s a miserable fucking existence to live with someone whose primary life goal is to make people feel like shit. Less than. Not enough.
I message back and tell her I’ll be home soon and that I’m sorry. I don’t offer an explanation. It’s pointless. I’m in shit no matter what I say. Less is better.
I meet BJ in the driveway. “Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah. Thanks.” I climb into the passenger seat, uncomfortable. The weight of today settles around me, including my admissions, and how despite it all, I seem to be right. I can’t have nice things.
BJ buckles up and puts the Jeep in gear. “Will you be okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Just need to deal with the fallout.” I stare out the window, unable to look at him.
He’s silent for a few seconds before he asks softly, “Should I be worried, Winter?”
My knee is bouncing, and I press my palms against the top of my thighs. “My mom isn’t like me. She’s soft. And when my dad gets angry, he says nasty shit. I just don’t want him getting pissed at her when I’m the one who lied.”
“Does your dad get angry a lot?”
“He’s reactive. My mom doesn’t deserve his anger because I fed her a line of bullshit.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re not allowed to hang out with friends.”
“Well, you wouldn’t get it because your family is basically hemorrhaging money.” I cringe, hating my caustic words, frustrated that I’m defensive and that I sound a lot like my dad does when he’s being his asshole self. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. It’s not like we’re given a choice as to what family we’re born into, and I sound like a dick. Look, to you, it’s just hanging out with friends, but to my dad, I’m shirking my responsibilities at home by not helping keep food on the table. It’s me wanting things I can’t have instead of being thankful we have a roof over our heads.”
“You have a job, though, so you are helping, and you’re taking college courses, so that’s good too, isn’t it?”
I sigh. I’m sure he’s trying to make sense of it. To understand my life. But his dad is a stand-up guy, and his mom is his coach. He doesn’t know what it’s like to live with constant emotional warfare. “He doesn’t see the value in college,” I explain. “Not when I can get a perfectly good job at the ice cream factory and bring home a paycheck we could use.”
He reaches the T-intersection and turns down my road.
“You should stop here. I don’t want to add fuel to the fire.”
He doesn’t push, just pulls over so he’s not in the middle of the gravel road. He helps get my bike down, and I sling my backpack over my shoulder.
I’m about to hop on my bike when he links our pinkies and steps into my personal space. I put a hand on his chest. “I don’t need to be saved, BJ. I can handle myself.”
“I know, but should you have to?”
I look at the sky. “I need to go. Thank you for tonight. Fingerbang Friday was totally worth the wait.” I meet his eyes, imploring him to let this go. To let me walk away and deal with things. To not get involved.
His expression is somber as he takes my face between his palms. “You don’t have to fight every battle on your own.” He brushes his lips over mine. “I’m going to text you in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be fine.” I kiss him one last time, sling my leg over my bike, and pedal up the road, leaving behind my escape from this shitstorm I call a life.
