Page 34 of Fight Me, Break Me


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He smiled like that was good enough, then kissed me one last time.

The next dayat school had been the typical mix of boredom and frustration. By the time the last bell rang, all I wanted was to go home and play some video games.

When I got home, I found my mom in the kitchen cleaning. She always cleaned when she was on edge. The counters were already spotless, but she was wiping them down anyway, dragging the cloth across the surface in slow circles, lost in her own world.

She glanced in my direction when she heard me. “Oh, good. You’re home.”

“Yeah,” I said, dropping my backpack on the dining room table.

“I haven’t started dinner yet, but you should probably eat something before you leave for work.”

“I’m not working tonight.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re not?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” She went back to wiping the counter.

I watched her for a moment. “You know that thing’s already clean, right?”

She paused, then forced a small laugh. “I know. I just like to keep things tidy.”

“That’s not why you’re doing it.”

Her hand froze. “Keaton?—”

“Let me guess, he’s going to the bar tonight, and you’re worried about how he’ll act when he gets home.”

She put the rag down. “That’s not fair.”

“But it’s true.”

“Your father works hard.”

“And that gives him the right to be a total asshole all the time?”

“Language,” she reprimanded.

I barked out a laugh. “Seriously, Mom? I’ve had to listen to you two fight for years and say worse things than that, but now you’re gonna complain about me saying ‘asshole’?”

She rubbed her temples as if she had a headache. “Fine. Can you just try to stay out of his way tonight?” Although my mom usually bore the brunt of my dad’s anger, it didn’t take much for me to upset him either. “You know how he gets,” she added.

“So do you.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because it just is.”

I shook my head. “That makes zero sense.”

She picked up the rag again and started wiping the same spot on the counter for the third time. “He’s under a lot of stress,” she murmured.

“So am I,” I argued. “I live here too, after all.”

“That’s rude.”