around and go inside. “I've got school in the morning.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes off. “Get over here. We wanna talk to you.”
I growl under my breath, shove my hands in my jeans and arrive where I was summoned. “What's up, Dad?
“Don't be a dick,” he grunts, beer coated on each word like he's been marinating them for hours. Wouldn't be surprised if he had. For a man who likes the finer things, he loves his beer more than liquor. “Say hi to Mikey.”
“Mike.” I greet my dad's best friend with a nod.
He tips his beer at me and then has another swig.
My father continues, “Where were you tonight?”
With a heavy sigh I clench my fists tighter in my pockets. I don't want to play this game. I don't want to do this again. Sometimes I think he pushes me to see if I'll push back, to see if I'll go down swinging, or even contemplate not letting his abuse land on my face. But he's my father. What else am I supposed to do?
Hopeful he asks, “Strip club?”
“You know I was with Presley.”
“Ah.” He points at me with the beer bottle. “Of course you were. Always are. You two are inseparable…”
“Inseparable,” Mike echoes.
“Okay…” my voice trails off. “I love her. What’s the big deal?”
In a mocking tone he says, “You don't know what the big deal is?” He elbows Mike in the side. “He doesn't know what the big deal is?” Mike chuckles and shakes his head. Dad looks back at me and obnoxiously repeats, “You don't know what the big deal is?” I blink. I don't give them the satisfaction of seeing how his words rattle the ground beneath me. “Son, the big deal is there are millions of fish in the pool.”
This isn't going to end well. “Okay…”
“You need to start dipping your fishing pole in other scuba tanks.” His misspoken metaphor makes me roll my eyes. “Hey! Don't roll your eyes at me!”
I surrender my hands. While he doesn't typically put his hands on me, the beer in his system messes with his restraint. Sober or inebriated, verbal assaults are always in season, but his hands only come out for assistance after beers nine and ten.
“What I’m saying is your 16 years old-”
“18 years old-”
“18 goddamn years old! You know what I was doing at 18?”
Of course I knew the frat tales he's passed down to my older brother who followed in his steps, but managed not to lose his heart to the devil. Pretty sure my father sold his before he was old enough to legally drink.
“Fucking girls in the back of limos. Fucking girls in bar bathrooms. Fucking sorority girls for sport two at a time. Are you fucking your girlfriend?” Definitely the influential speech I need after telling my girlfriend I'm willing to wait. Oh wait. No, it's not. My silence seems to upset him. “You're not, are you? Fucking pathetic.”
A hard exhale comes from me, but I stay frozen. I don't feel pathetic. I don't feel I'm doing anything wrong waiting for Pres. It's not like I'm a virgin. I started boning girls when I was thirteen. Sex with my sister's best friend while she slept in the room beside us. I've had my fair share of pussy before Presley, so it isn't a giant mystery what the big deal about sex is. I just so happen to like what she has to offer more.
“You're too young to be this fucking attached to one girl. Making plans like running away to college together. Moving in together.”
Unsure of how he knows all this, I press my lips together admitting nothing. “Marriage...you really think you're gonna marry this chick? Ha!”
“Marriage?” Mike sarcastically laughs. “That's what you want kid? I got my old lady griping at me in and out every day about the trash. How I don't make enough for what she wants to spend. How I'm not 'as romantic as I used to be' or some horse shit.”
My dad mumbles, “Marcy says that bullshit to me all the time.”
“All that
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes off. “Get over here. We wanna talk to you.”
I growl under my breath, shove my hands in my jeans and arrive where I was summoned. “What's up, Dad?
“Don't be a dick,” he grunts, beer coated on each word like he's been marinating them for hours. Wouldn't be surprised if he had. For a man who likes the finer things, he loves his beer more than liquor. “Say hi to Mikey.”
“Mike.” I greet my dad's best friend with a nod.
He tips his beer at me and then has another swig.
My father continues, “Where were you tonight?”
With a heavy sigh I clench my fists tighter in my pockets. I don't want to play this game. I don't want to do this again. Sometimes I think he pushes me to see if I'll push back, to see if I'll go down swinging, or even contemplate not letting his abuse land on my face. But he's my father. What else am I supposed to do?
Hopeful he asks, “Strip club?”
“You know I was with Presley.”
“Ah.” He points at me with the beer bottle. “Of course you were. Always are. You two are inseparable…”
“Inseparable,” Mike echoes.
“Okay…” my voice trails off. “I love her. What’s the big deal?”
In a mocking tone he says, “You don't know what the big deal is?” He elbows Mike in the side. “He doesn't know what the big deal is?” Mike chuckles and shakes his head. Dad looks back at me and obnoxiously repeats, “You don't know what the big deal is?” I blink. I don't give them the satisfaction of seeing how his words rattle the ground beneath me. “Son, the big deal is there are millions of fish in the pool.”
This isn't going to end well. “Okay…”
“You need to start dipping your fishing pole in other scuba tanks.” His misspoken metaphor makes me roll my eyes. “Hey! Don't roll your eyes at me!”
I surrender my hands. While he doesn't typically put his hands on me, the beer in his system messes with his restraint. Sober or inebriated, verbal assaults are always in season, but his hands only come out for assistance after beers nine and ten.
“What I’m saying is your 16 years old-”
“18 years old-”
“18 goddamn years old! You know what I was doing at 18?”
Of course I knew the frat tales he's passed down to my older brother who followed in his steps, but managed not to lose his heart to the devil. Pretty sure my father sold his before he was old enough to legally drink.
“Fucking girls in the back of limos. Fucking girls in bar bathrooms. Fucking sorority girls for sport two at a time. Are you fucking your girlfriend?” Definitely the influential speech I need after telling my girlfriend I'm willing to wait. Oh wait. No, it's not. My silence seems to upset him. “You're not, are you? Fucking pathetic.”
A hard exhale comes from me, but I stay frozen. I don't feel pathetic. I don't feel I'm doing anything wrong waiting for Pres. It's not like I'm a virgin. I started boning girls when I was thirteen. Sex with my sister's best friend while she slept in the room beside us. I've had my fair share of pussy before Presley, so it isn't a giant mystery what the big deal about sex is. I just so happen to like what she has to offer more.
“You're too young to be this fucking attached to one girl. Making plans like running away to college together. Moving in together.”
Unsure of how he knows all this, I press my lips together admitting nothing. “Marriage...you really think you're gonna marry this chick? Ha!”
“Marriage?” Mike sarcastically laughs. “That's what you want kid? I got my old lady griping at me in and out every day about the trash. How I don't make enough for what she wants to spend. How I'm not 'as romantic as I used to be' or some horse shit.”
My dad mumbles, “Marcy says that bullshit to me all the time.”
“All that
Similar Books
Step Across This Line
Salman Rushdie
Her Superhero Lover: A BWWM BBW Billionaire Superhero Romance
BWWM Club, Shifter Club, Lionel Law
Flood
Stephen Baxter
The Peace War
Vernor Vinge
Tiger
William Richter
Captive
Aishling Morgan
Nightshades
Melissa F. Olson
Brighton
Michael Harvey
Shenandoah
Everette Morgan
Kid vs. Squid
Greg van Eekhout