Dave says nothing more to me and I say nothing more to him as we both park and head for the front door. I even let him march off ahead first into the house while I stroll nonchalantly after him, and honestly, it’s almost amusing just how heated Dave can get when it comes to dealing with me. I really grind his gears, but I have ever since Mom first introduced us a few years ago. It’s like he moved down here to LA, hoping for this new, perfect life, and he almost has it. We’ve got the big house in the nice neighborhood. He drives a nice car. He’s pretty high up at the company he works for, I think. He’s got Mom, who’s amazing, and he’s got Jamie and Chase, who I guess are pretty cool. But then he’s also got me, and I’m not exactly perfect, so I can’t really blame him for getting frustrated at me. Who cares? I’m over it.
“Ella!” he yells as soon as we walk inside the house. I scrunch up my face in disgust when I realize Mom’s cooking steak, because the scent wafting down the hall is enough to make me feel nauseous. “You’ll be glad to know I found Tyler!”
I follow Dave to the kitchen, and Mom spins around to look at usboth as soon as we enter. Her hair is clipped back and she stares mostly at me, frowning as her shoulders sink.
“Do you want to know what I just witnessed?” Dave asks, his voice raised. He sounds like an asshole right now, like he enjoys throwing me under the bus to Mom. He’s wasting his breath though. “So here I am, heading down to Apian Way to drop off some paperwork on my way home, and guess who I happen to spot at the beach?” As though it isn’t already obvious who he’s talking about, he gives me a pointed glance.
Mom looks at me and I can see her physically fighting back a sigh. “I told you not to leave,” she mumbles.
Dave ignores her and goes on with his story. “So I think,Hey, he’s grounded, and I head over there to ask him what he’s playing at, and he’s sitting around some table with these guys who looked ten years older than him, and I stood there and watched him toss ten-, twenty-, fifty-dollar bills onto this table,” Dave tells her, and it’s only then that I actually wonder how long he had been watching me.
“Tyler,” Mom says, and I look at her. There’s that look of disappointment on her face again that I hate so much. It’s even worse when she doesn’t say anything. Her silence always speaks louder than words.
“This is bullshit,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Shut the hell up,” Dave orders, and I’m surprised he says this in front of Mom. He and I both know it makes her uncomfortable when he says shit like that to me. He loosens his tie, then rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, and presses his hands to his hips. “So I’m standing right there watching him gamble and throw away cash, and guess what happened when he lost the bet?” He hesitates for a second, probably for dramatic effect to make it all sound even worse. “He started swinging.”
“That asshole was cheating,” I lie. Only about the cheating part though. Warrenisan asshole, and I feel aggravated just thinking abouthis words again. I lean back against the countertop to stabilize myself, and I add, “I wasn’t gonna let him get away with it.”
Dave gets up in my face again, and if Mom wasn’t here, I definitely would be hitting him too. “Do you want to get arrested for assault? Spend your life in juvenile hall? Is that what you want?”
“Tyler, you have to stop all of this,” Mom says quietly, and the soft pleading in her voice makes me feel like hell. She finally releases that sigh she’s been holding, and it just sounds…sad. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
I don’t want to get into trouble either, I want to tell her, but I can’t find the words. How do I tell her I’m only doing all of this because I don’t know anything different? Because trouble is all my life has ever revolved around? Because I’m just trying my best to get by?
“This isn’t Las Vegas,” Dave huffs, drawing back my attention. He is even closer to me now and I can see the anger in his eyes, but I’ll never understand it. I’m not his son. I’m nothing to him. “What the hell were you playing at?”
I stare evenly back into his eyes, my expression stoic. “Live a little.”
“I’m done with you,” Dave says, and he finally retreats from me, hands thrown up as though he’s giving up. He shoots Mom a look as he shakes his head, then he disappears outside into the backyard.
Amazing. I wonder how long it will be before he tries his hand at parenting me again. Probably not long at all. I have to laugh at him though; after that last attempt, it would be rude not to. I see Mom opening her mouth to say something, but I can’t bear to hear it. I also can’t bear the smell of those damn steaks that are cooking behind her. They smell burned by now, and I don’t even think she’s realized.
I turn around, unable to look at her, and walk out of the kitchen. I have no idea what time I’m supposed to be heading out to meet Tiffaniand the rest of the crew tonight, but I refuse to stick around here, so I decide to leave early. I have my eye on the front door, my hand already reaching into my pocket for my car keys, when lo and behold, I spot her again. There Eden is, standing in the corner of the hall with her back pressed against the wall. She stares at me, frozen, and even though I’m wondering what the hell she’s doing, I’ve remembered something. “I’ve gotta give you a ride, right?”
Eden hesitates for a while, looking uncomfortableyetagain. Am I really that intimidating? “I think so,” she finally mumbles. She still doesn’t look all that sharp, but her uncertainty is sort of cute.
“I’m leaving right now,” I tell her, “so either come or stay here.” I’m not waiting around any longer, and certainly not while Eden makes up her mind, so I turn back around again and continue toward the front door.
“Tyler! Please don’t leave again!” I hear Mom’s voice bounce from the kitchen, but even though I can hear how hurt she is, I can’t bring myself to stay.
I keep on walking, my head down, out the front door and across the lawn. At first, I assume Eden isn’t coming, but then I hear the front door open again behind me, and a husky voice calls out, “Wait up!”
And, honestly, I’m glad to hear it.
17
Five Years Earlier
By third period on Wednesday, I’ve run out of energy to even listen during history class. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Dad was mad again, and I still don’t know what about. I can barely stay awake, and my eyelids keep drooping every five minutes until I shake myself in an effort to become more alert, but it’s no use.
To stop myself from constantly drifting into another world, I turn my worksheet over and begin to trace one big circle, around and around and around… My eyes close again, and I flinch, blinking fast. I sit up, hoping that maybe if I don’t slouch so much, that’ll help. But it doesn’t. I glance to my left, looking across the class at Dean’s desk. He’s already staring back at me with a smirk.
“Wake up,” he mouths. Is it that obvious?
I bury my face into my hands, rubbing hard at my eyes until I see stars, and just as my sight is coming back to me, I see Mrs. Palmer putting down the phone at her desk. Her eyes flicker and she looks straight at me, swiveling around in her chair to face me more directly.
“Tyler,” she says gently with a small smile, “Mr. Hayes would like to see you in his office.”
