Party Read Free Page B

have not, do not, and will not leave the TV screen.
    Asshole.
    “Well, could you please turn the TV down so you could hear me better?” I asked. Perhaps a shade too politely.
    This earned a glance from my mother to my father, who did not glance back. Mom shrugged her eyebrows as if to say,
Well, you have a point, the TV was on really loud so maybe I didn’t hear you correctly, and maybe since you’re such a good kid I should give you the benefit of the doubt just this once so you can go to the biggest party of the year with your best friend
.
    At least, that’s what it looked like she was thinking. Then she filled in a word on her puzzle and the moment was gone.
    I paused. I waited. I hesitated.
    Then I flung my arms up in the air and turned for my room.
    From the couch, Dad barked, “Where are you going?”
    As if we were having a conversation and I’m walking out inthe middle of it.
Uh, except you stopped talking three minutes ago
. Please tell me my parents are not the only ones this lame.
    I stopped. “To call Ashley and get a ride, I guess.”
    And he says, “You’re not going anywhere.”
    By that point, I was literally shaking with rage. My hands were freezing and coated with sweat. I could kill them both.
    “What?” I asked, just to clarify.
    “You took the car without permission, you’re staying home,” my mother said, as if this made the most sense in the entire world.
    And with that, I had officially
Had It
. I’d already driven the Beetle all by my responsible self, what the crap was up with this? Maybe it was only around the block, but
still
. Do I have to ask permission every time I need to drive somewhere until I’m eighteen? And I
did
ask—or
told
, anyway, and they didn’t say no, which is pretty much the same thing.
    So I bolted back into the living room and
unloaded
. I repeated my side of the story (a little loudly) and stood in front of the television, partly so they’d hear me and partly to piss off my dad. Well, the second part of the plan worked—he jumped up and started yelling at me about responsibility and my tone of voice.
    So I shut up and folded my arms and pretended to listen.
    This is hopeless.
    He’s been going on for about ten minutes now. It takes me about two of those ten to realize it’s between games.
    He’s held it all in until the game ended
. At least that’s what it seems like.
    The game comes back on, and the
asshole
doesn’t even bother to trail off or fade to black. The moment, the very
instant
he hears an announcer’s voice, he cuts himself off in the middle of a word. The word is
attitude
, but ends up being only
atti
. As in,
Morrigan, I’ve had it with your crappy atti
.
    I decide I will spread this new word among my peer group. Yay!
    Mom doesn’t say anything, but I can see she agrees with Dad. Typical. She always rolls over for him. I’ve even confronted her about it in the past, asking her why it’s always Dad’s way or the highway, a phrase she’s actually said to me. (Lame.) Mom only laughed and said I didn’t know him the way she did. Is he like abusive or something? No, Mom said, still laughing, he’s just who he is. Gotta love him, she said.
    Maybe I have to, but I don’t at the moment.
    I can’t believe this. I did absolutely nothing wrong, and now I’m out my car and a sweet night of partying with my best friend.
    Once Dad’s done, I go to my room and call Ashley. She knows right away something’s up.
    “What’s the go?” she asks. It’s this thing we say.
    I tell her the entire story, and because she is my best friend in the entire world, she’s ready to kneecap both of them.
    “This
sucks!
God, Morrigan … what about the party?”
    “I dunno. They said I had to stay home.”
    “Morry, no, absolutely not,” Ashley says, like she has some sort of authority over the situation. “It’s like the biggest party ever. We have to be there, celebrate with Antho and stuff!”
    “I know, Ash.” I sit on my bed and fall to the