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I grin and bend down to steal a quick kiss before tucking her beneath my arm and leading us to the basement door. She twists the lock and peels open the door, letting the music blast past us into the hallway.
“Okay, maybe it’s a little loud,” she notes.
I don’t tell herI told you so. With her close behind me, I lead us down the stairs and into an absolute disaster zone. The music was a warning sign I shouldn’t have ignored. My jaw falls open, then shuts tight enough my teeth ache as I dart my eyes around the space.
My grip on Ava tightens as I pull her closer and sift through the strangers in our house in search of Noah.
This isn’t a party. It’s a giantfuck youfor something I must have done wrong. No alcohol, he promised. Bull. Shit.
Ava tears herself out of my grip and shoves her way through the teenagers, not a care in the world that she’s smaller than most of them and could easily get hurt. I follow her, realizing a breath later that she’s already found our son.
He’s sitting in the corner of the game room with a pair of earbuds in his ears and his eyes closed. It’s as if the party means nothing to him. As if it’s not happening around him. Inourhouse.
“Noah James Hutton!” Ava shouts. Nobody blinks an eye, most likely not even catching her voice over the overpowering rock song playing.
I turn and find the large speaker on the counter beside the bar. It’s almost hidden behind empty beer bottles and chip bags, but I manage to catch it. Five steps is all it takes to reach it and abruptly cut the music.
Silence falls before a mix of confused and angry voices take over. I cross my arms and bark a loud “Party’s over. Get out before I call your parents!”
My eyes are laser focused on my son. On the lazy flutter of his lashes as he opens his eyes and takes in the rush of people moving toward the door that leads to the backyard. He must sense that someone’s watching him, because suddenly, he’s meeting my stare with one full of fury.
Ava storms toward him and slaps her hands on her hips, saying something to him that I can’t hear. He has the decency to level off his fury in front of his mother.
It takes several minutes for everyone to leave, but once they do, the tension in the large space is almost suffocating. I attempt to calm my frustration and disappointment before joining my wife and son. It’s not easy, but I manage it.
We’ve trusted Noah to have friends over at the house before. For most of his life, we’ve encouraged him to do it. I grew up in a very easygoing, trusting household, and I took that, and we raised our children the same way. But this is the first time any one of them has betrayed that trust. I would be an idiot to believe that came out of nowhere.
“Was this your concept of having a couple of music friends over?” Ava asks him, slicing through the silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hang out with any of those people!”
“Sorry,” he drawls.
“You’re sorry? Something could have happened to you! This is our home, Noah, not a shack in the woods! Why would you— Oh, my God! Are you high?” she shrieks, dropping to her knees in front of him and grabbing his face in her small hand. Turning his head side to side, she sucks in a sharp breath. “Pot? Or something worse?”
He tears away from her grip and snaps, “Why do you care what I do with my life?”
Ava flinches, surprised at the tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Stop pretending to care!” Pushing his body up the wall behind him, he comes to a stand and slips around Ava, leaving a wide berth between them. “Just leave me alone.”
I’m moving before he can get to the safety of his bedroom. Lifting my hand, I press the tips of my fingers to his chest, stopping him from going any further. I notice what Ava must have now that he’s closer. The red in his eyes that goes far beyond the excuse of exhaustion.
“Where did you get it? You’re seventeen.” I struggle to keep my voice level.
His lip curls as he takes a step back. I let my hand fall. “It’s none of your business.”
“I beg to differ. As long as you live here, your business is mine. That includes how you got your hands on marijuana.”
“Let me waste my life away, Dad. Nobody said you had to give a shit about me. I’m sorry I’m not more like Maddox.”
“Don’t make this about your brother,” Ava scolds.
He turns to her. “He has enough to say about the way I want to live my life that he might as well be in this conversation.” He flings his eyes to me next. “Why don’t you call him? Speed dial number one, right?”
“What happened with you and Maddox?” Ava asks, slowly moving closer to us.
“I’m guessing you heard us talking earlier,” I say.
Noah’s laugh is cold. My stomach sinks at the hurt that drifts through the cruel noise. “When you said I was a waste of talent? Yeah, I did.”
