"Are you just getting in, boy? Who do you think you are, coming into my house at this time of morning?"
His house, not mine, and I can't help but wonder when he's ever cared if I'm here or not. Or when I come in, for that matter. "Won't happen again," I mumble because I'm not in the mood to deal with him.
Unfortunately, he seems to be in the mood to mess with me and by not playing his game, I probably just upped that need. When I try to walk around him, he grabs my arm. "So damn disrespectful. No matter what I do, you never learn any manners."
My brain files those words to the folder filled with everything else I've done wrong. "I said it won't happen again. Why don't you let me go?" I try to pull away, but he pulls me closer.
"Do I smell alcohol on you, little jerk?" His voice is harsh. Why does he hate me so much?
He doesn't give me time to answer before he rips his hand off me. "You're such a loser. You'll never amount to anything. Mooching off me and your friends, staying out all night and coming home drunk."
I'm going to explode. Like I'm a can of soda that keeps getting shaken, dropped, kicked, and finally I can't stop myself from exploding. After our last run-in, then Pris, walking around all night...I can't handle any of it anymore and I need to fight back.
"Jesus! You're like a broken record! Can't you come up with anything new? I know I'm a loser, you hate me, I'll never be anything. If you don't have anything new to throw into the ring, I'd like to go to my room now." I manage to take a few steps away from him.
His oversized face turns red. I see his jaw tighten. I've never, ever spoken to him like that.
I want to do it again.
"You little punk." For the first time in my life, his hand raises toward me. I brace myself for the blow, sort of glad it finally came to this.
Mom steps around the corner. "Mike...Don't, okay? Let's just go to the room and calm down." Her voice is shaking and I wonder if this will be the one thing to finally make her stand up to him. To finally worry about me.
"Did you hear the way he spoke to me? Of course you did. You always take his side. He's your little prize, isn't he? From when you thought you'd found something better, but it turned out I'm the only one who would put up with you."
Mom flinches at his words, her hand going to her face. I have no idea what he's talking about, but there's no way I'll let him speak to her that way.
"Leave her out of this. It's between you and me." An angered heat burns through me, threatening to turn me to ash, but I stand my ground. "You have something to say to me? Say it."
He suddenly laughs. It's a pissed-off laugh that makes my fists beg to hit him.
"Are you a big man now? About to graduate high school and you think you're a man?"
"Mike, no—"
He cuts her off. "Are you man enough to know your mom's a slut? How she screwed another man and got stuck with you? That I've been raising her little bastard kid for eighteen years because your real daddy didn't want you, either?"
I can't breathe. Each of his words are a fist, slamming into me. A foot kicking me.
Mom starts crying, hiding her face in her hands.
Dad? No, Mike is smiling.
I can't feel anything.
He's not my dad?
"That's right, kid. Your mom acted like a whore and then—"
His words are cut off when my fist rams into his face. I feel the bones crack, but I can't stop myself. I swing at him again. This time, he's ready for it. He knocks my hand away and shoves me into the wall. My hand slams against it. Pain shoots through my head, my knuckles, but it's nothing compared to the way my heart has been cut open.
Mom jumps between us, screaming, before he can hit me again. Black makeup trails down her face with her tears. "Please, stop! Don't fight."
Mike looks over her at me. He's got a busted lip, but he smiles regardless.
"You're done for, kid."
Mom tries to stop him as he pulls out his cell phone and dials. I don't try to run. Probably couldn't move even if I wanted to. I slide down to the floor.
He's not even my dad.
And she still let him treat me this way.
***
The police ask me a million times what happened. Each time I admit to taking the first swing. What's the point in fighting it? They bring me to the hospital first. My hand is broken. Obviously punching two people in one night didn't agree with me.
Mom comes to the hospital, but I tell them I don't want her in the room and since I'm eighteen, they can't do anything about it. The police supervision is already enough of a downer.
She let someone who doesn't share my blood make my life hell.
I can't get over that.
Next I'm transferred to the police station. More supervision, like I'm some kind of criminal. I'm here for a few hours, telling them the same thing over and over. Yep, I hit him first. Yep, he defended himself.
A little while later, they tell me he's not pressing charges. I'm his son, after all. Yeah, right. Anyway, it's still getting sent to the DA's office for review. Apparently it's not only up to him what happens.
I'm sitting in the waiting room chair when Mom runs in, pulling me into a hug.
I don't hug her back.
"Jaden! Why in the world would you talk to him like that? You know how he gets," she whispers as she sits next to me.
"Is it true?"
Her silence tells me it is. A million questions bear down on me. How? Who? Why? But I don't ask any of them.
"I called Courtney. I didn't tell her everything that's going on, but she said you're welcome to stay with Sebastian until you guys leave."
This makes my head whip around to face her. "You're kicking me out?" It's not like I want to go home anyway, but how can she do this? After everything, how can she choose him? How can she stay with a man who treats her, and her son, like garbage?
Her voice is even softer when she speaks again. "I don't think it would be a good idea to put you guys in the same house again. You're leaving in a couple weeks anyway..."
And then, I have no idea where the words come from. I'm angry and hurt, but I also don't want to be alone. I don't want to leave her with him. "Come with me. I don't have to go to New York. We can go anywhere."
She cocks her head, tears pooling in her eyes, and I know damn well she'd rather be there with him than anywhere with me.
The list of people who feel that way is piling up.
"Jaden... I love him. You're grown up. You have your life, and he's mine. I know it doesn't make sense, but he loves me, too. The things he said last night were only spoken out of anger. Things will be easier now...for both you and me. I want that for you."
She means things will be easier for her. She wants that for her. Her life with him will be better when I'm not around.
"What if he hurts you?" My voice actually cracks and it pisses me off.
"He won't."
Because the reminder of the one time he didn't have control over her will be gone?
"I don't know who I am without him, Jaden."
This is so far from funny, but I can't stop myself from laughing. "Maybe it's time you find out."
My words hit me. I'm not who I thought I was, either. I'm not Mike Sinclair's son; I'm just the bastard kid he hates. I haven't been Pris's best friend since last summer. Sebastian and Aspen don't need me following them around anymore either.
What do I know about myself? I'm the mooch, the loser, the guy who broke Pris's heart, the one she doesn't want to be there for her.
Yeah, totally not a prize winner. Not like I ever thought I was.
"I need you to do one thing for me, Mom. One thing and I'm gone."
***
I lie to Mom and tell her Sebastian is on his way to pick me up from the station, which actually, could be true if she called Courtney. She hugs me, cries, playing the caring Mom routine pretty well. It can't be true, though. If she did care, she definitely wouldn't be choosing that a**hole over me.
I plop back down into the ugly, brown chair. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I swear it can't be more than thirty seconds after she walks out that my eyes dart toward the door of the waiting room. Pris is standing about ten feet away from me. She's wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a hoodie, although it's too hot to be wearing it. Her hair is tied back in a messy ponytail. Courtney must have told Sebastian what happened. He probably called Pris and she rolled right out of bed to come here.
I'm going to kill him.
With no other option, I push to my feet and walk over to her. "Hey..." The awkwardness between us is so screwed up. It's not supposed to be this way with my friends. It's the one thing I've always been able to count on.
"Hey... I got your hat. You dropped it when..."
Yeah... When. I still can't think about Craig without wanting to lose it. "Thanks." I take it from her.
"Bastian called to tell me you were here. We were all going to come get you, but I told him I wanted to do it alone." There's a question in her voice, wondering if it's okay that she's here. And it is. I didn't realize it until this second, but I'm glad it's her.
"Cool. Thanks."
Her eyes travel to my casted hand, to my face, and yeah, I know I'm screwed up. I look around, knowing how everyone else in this place sees me: wrinkled clothes from wearing them for two days, piercings, the whole nine. They're probably wondering what the hell the District Attorney's daughter is doing here with me. Shit. And he'll see the case, too. How bad does that suck?
"I can give you a ride to Sebastian's."
Yeah...yeah, I definitely need out of here. I want her out of here. Seconds ago I was glad it was her and now I feel guilty. Picking me up at the police station? Classy, right?
"Priscilla. Can you come here for a minute?"