My chest is shaking. Breathing uneven. I haven’t spoken to my father since that last day at the office, and my mind afforded me delusional bliss of thinking he’d forgotten about me.
I’ve subdued my anger towards him for so long. It’s been relieving to get my emotions out and speak my mind these past few weeks. Heartbreakingly, it’s just as terrifying to face the consequences of doing so.
It’s a weird middle. Angry because I’ve been nothing but my father’s son for my entire life. Scared because I don’t think that’s true anymore.
I’m Keller McCarthy’s son, but I’m also Grant and Billie’s brother. Derek and Liliana’s friend. Rosie’s partner. Those things mean more to me than my last name. Being anything other than a McCarthy is unknown territory. I’m scared, but I want those titles more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
Three dots pop up and disappear before my father can send another message. Hurriedly, before the adrenaline dwindles down, I type back a reply.
I’m busy.
A simple “No.” was my first plan, but it felt wrong. Not enough to translate how little I want to see him and how adamantly I’m against this.
I don’t even get two seconds to continue my mental preparation before he replies.
Dad
When did I say this was up for discussion?
Don’t talk back. Come in when I tell you to. This isn’t an option.
I’m busyy
My hand is still shaking, and I take a deep breath. For a split, harrowing second, I consider doing as I’m told. It’s familiar to succumb to his intimidation and follow orders.
Another message from the group chat—now namedBoston Bestiesby Billie—shows in a preview at the top of the screen. My nerves become manageable again. My friends aren’t here physically, and they wouldn’t know what I’m dealing with right now, but they’re still with me.
I’m sure standing my ground is going to have unchangeable consequences. Life-altering, probably. My father would never take lightly to me talking back, especially not after what’s transpired over the last few weeks. If I do it again, he’ll be crueler to me than ever.
He messages again, repeating himself and telling me I’m pushing his buttons. The flurry of texts from my friends spurs me on. Ghost’s paw pressing into my arm comforts me.
This life I’ve created is the one I care about. If Dad wants to blow up any semblance of the life I had prior, I’m willing to face it head-on, no matter how terrified I am of him.
I’m busy. I won’t be going into the office.
Dad
You’re pissing me off real bad Locke.
What could you possibly be doing next week?
Celebrating the holidays.
Dad
Where? With who? That girl in the bar video?
None of your business.
Dad
Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?
I’ll ruin your fucking life, Locke. You listen to what I say and come into the office when I tell you and stop thinking you have any control over this. Stop testing me.
You want to get cut off? I’ll cut you out of everything. You won’t have access to my accounts anymore, I’ll ban you from ever getting ahead with that fucking software degree of yours. I’ll destroy you if you don’t knock this shit off and listen to me.
“Ghost?”
