18. Eighteen
Eighteen
Jake
T oday is a good day, I think to myself as we stroll down the main drag on our way to Carla’s Café, paying little attention to the various storefronts lining either side of the street.
The town center is buzzing with activity as last-minute shoppers are dashing back and forth between buildings on their hunt for the perfect Christmas gift.
Tessa and Megan are walking ahead of us, hips swaying from side to side.
Carter and I exchange an appreciative look as we mentally high-five each other for scoring the two hottest girls in town.
The sun hangs low in the sky as Tessa smiles over her shoulder at me, long hair billowing in the wintry breeze.
At that moment, I feel happier than I have in a very long time.
I’ve just turned eighteen, and most days, I feel like I carry the world's weight on my shoulders. Life hasn’t even truly begun, and I’m already exhausted.
Living with an abusive alcoholic and keeping your younger siblings out of the line of fire while simultaneously hiding the truth from your friends will do that to you.
My dad’s been working me harder than a damn mule, and I barely even have a social life.
My amazing girlfriend has been nothing short of supportive and understanding throughout our relationship, and I most definitely haven’t been easy to be around lately.
But whenever things get too much, and I feel myself slipping into that dark pit of despair, she’s there, ready to pull me back from the brink.
She’s become my rock, and I have no idea what I’d do without her.
“Eyes up here, Nelson,” she orders, smirking at me and looking utterly adorable with her ruddy cheeks. “I asked you a question.” Reluctantly, I drag my gaze upwards and away from her luscious ass to land on a pair of thoroughly amused eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.”
Tessa giggles, and I throw her a wink that adds a little more color to her already rosy skin.
“Ugh, you two are actually nauseating.”
Tessa ignores Carter’s grumbling. “I asked what the plan is for tonight?”
“Not sure.” I shrug. “Maybe we could go catch a movie. There’s this new action flick I’ve been meaning to check out.
” Options are limited in a town this size, and since the river bashes only happen sporadically now that the weather isn’t cooperating, there’s really not much to do for kids our age.
I’m just glad they’re still happening at all, considering only a handful of organizers remain now that most of the former seniors have gone off to college.
Fortunately for us, Chase and Ted both decided against school, opting to work for Chase’s father instead—which means they’re free to keep the tradition going.
Unfortunately for me, Jessica Cartwright also never left town, having chosen to attend a community college close by to help care for the ailing grandmother who raised her.
She’s still doing her best to get under Tessa’s skin at every opportunity and remains to be the only thing we frequently argue about.
“Fuck,” Carter exclaims, stopping to dig through the pockets of his jeans. “I think I forgot my wallet.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, slapping him on the back.
“I don’t mind being your sugar daddy for the day.
Just remember how good I was to you once you become a big-shot lawyer in New York, Chicago, or wherever the fuck people with fancy educations go to practice law.
I also expect you to represent my ass, pro bono, if I ever find myself in trouble. ”
“That day might come sooner rather than later. Sheriff Payton really seems to have a hard-on for you,” Carter says, and I cringe at the mention of Jenkins Creek’s new acting sheriff.
“Maybe calling him a little bitch on his first day and then proceeding to moon him in front of his predecessor wasn’t your finest moment,” Megan needlessly points out, and Carter laughs so hard his eyes water.
“Fuck me, that was priceless. The vein in his forehead was throbbing so hard, I thought his head was going to explode.”
At the time, I’d found the incident equally amusing.
In fact, I remember laughing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath on the way home.
Then Old McCarthy and Sheriff Payton dragged my drunken ass out of the back of their cruiser and handed me over to my father with strict instructions to keep a shorter leash on me.
I remember barking like a dog and laughing some more.
Then my dad shut the door, and I stopped laughing pretty quickly.
“That was months ago, and he’s still staring daggers at me. I mean, come on. You can’t make one mistake?” I whine, holding up a single digit. Tessa stops to wrap her slender arms around my neck, staring up at me with the cutest little pout.
“Aw, poor baby. Does the big bad sheriff have it out for you?”
“Oh, fuck off,” I tell her with a chuckle, shaking my head at her antics.
She laughs and rounds me before jumping on my back, almost making me lose my balance.
I grab her thighs and indulge her, giving her a piggyback ride down the road.
We keep up the banter as we go, and I’m smiling so wide my cheeks hurt when the door to the local pub swings open and my father spills out onto the sidewalk.
My heart gives a single hard thump at the sight, and I freeze, setting Tessa back on her feet .
Please don’t look my way. Please don’t …
Motherfucker. His bloodshot eyes connect with mine, and he moves toward our little group.
My stomach churns as cold sweat beads on my forehead, and I pray to everything that’s holy that he won’t make another scene in public.
I flash my friends a tight smile and prepare myself for the inevitable embarrassment that’s sure to follow.
There’s no point in wishing things to be different.
My old man has become the town drunk. The guy everyone and their Gramma love to gossip about, and, in turn, I’ve become the type of person people look at with nothing but pity in their eyes.
They sympathize with me and my siblings and feel bad for my father.
After all, he only started drinking because he lost the love of his life.
He was once a well-respected businessman.
A doting father and a good husband. Now, he’s an empty shell of a man.
A pathetic mess whose only comfort sits at the bottom of a bottle.
People love to romanticize shit like that.
They don’t know that he’s always been a cruel, condescending son of a bitch.
They don’t know what goes on behind closed doors.
Here’s the thing, though. I can take whatever he dishes out away from prying eyes.
I’ve proven as much time and time again.
The problem is that lately, he’s taken to airing our dirty laundry for the whole town to see, and that’s the part I’m struggling with.
I’ve received more than one call over the past few weeks asking me to come collect my out-of-control father.
The last one came from Jackie only a couple of days ago.
Apparently, he was stirring up trouble with some trucker who’d only wanted to enjoy a hot cup of coffee on his way to wherever it was he was headed.
He was minding his own business and told my dad to take a hike numerous times, but my old man wouldn’t leave well enough alone.
It had taken me and two other guys to wrestle him out the door and into my truck.
In the middle of the afternoon, I might add.
I mean, for God's sake. At least wait until dinner time. And if that weren’t mortifying enough, he ran his mouth the whole way to my vehicle, cursing me out and calling me every name under the sun.
Most days, I don’t even hear the nasty shit he spews anymore.
I’ve learned to drown him out a long time ago.
But when there’s an audience to witness your humiliation, it tends to sting a little more.
My dad loses his footing, and he stumbles, almost going down.
I reach out instinctively, but he shakes me off like a pesky fly.
“Don’t touch me, boy,” he barks, heavily slurring his words. The smell of alcohol on his breath is so strong I almost get drunk on fumes. “I can walk under my own damn steam.” I hold my hands up and wait for him to right himself. Fuck me for trying to be helpful, right?
“What are you doing here, anyway? Didn’t I tell you to go to Austin to pick up materials?”
“That was two days ago, Dad. I took care of it. We’re just heading to Carla’s for hot chocolates. I won’t be home late.”
My father sways from side to side and stares at me with dead, unfocused eyes.
“You better be home at a reasonable hour. And I expect you at the job site straight after school Monday.”
“Where else would I be?”
“Are you giving me lip, boy?” he growls, drawing himself up to his full height. I close my eyes, silently berating myself for not keeping my stupid mouth shut before I shake my head no.
God, I want to die of shame. He makes me feel like such a coward sometimes.
Here I am, caught in my own worst nightmare.
My utter humiliation is once again witnessed not only by my friends but also by the girl I love.
I want to draw my arm back and punch him straight in his bulbous fucking nose for acting this way.
But I can’t. Dick or not, he’s still my father.
The only parent I have left, and I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing when it’s best to simply take my licks and stay quiet. Now is one of those times.
Every once in a while, I like to antagonize him, just to prove to myself that I can.
I know it’s dumb, and the urge to push back has caused me a lot of unnecessary pain over the years.
The truth is, getting a rise out of him is the only way of knowing he still cares.
Sometimes, his fists feel better than his indifference.
And isn’t that the saddest fucking thing you ever heard ?
“No, sir,” I mumble, feeling about two inches tall.
“I’ll be there.” My father jerks his chin in a sharp nod, and I release an audible breath.
For a long, awkward moment, we just stand there, sizing each other up as each of us waits for the other to make a move.
When I can’t take the crippling tension anymore, I go to push past him.
Of course, my father doesn’t let me get off that easy.
He steps in front of me at the last second and wraps his hand around my upper arm, painfully digging his fingers into my flesh.
I suppress a grunt and meet his blazing eyes. He’s itching for a fight.
“I’ll see you at home,” he rasps, a dark promise hanging heavily between us.
My whole body vibrates by the time he roughly shoves me back and staggers off in the opposite direction.
It takes a gargantuan effort to relax my muscles and start the simple task of breathing again.
I startle when Tessa links her fingers with mine, and my heart gives a single, hard thump at the contact.
“Let’s go, Tiger,” she urges as she gently tugs on my clammy hand.
Her determined look tells me she refuses to let him ruin what has otherwise been a perfect afternoon, and God, I love her for it.
She’s not stupid. She knows this shit isn’t normal.
But she also understands that making a big deal out of it would only add to my discomfort.
Somehow, this amazing, beautiful girl always seems to know exactly what I need at any given moment, and because of that, there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that I’m going to marry her someday.
As she leads the way toward the café, glaring at anyone who so much as looks at me sideways, I promise myself I’ll never let her down. It’s a promise I can only hope to uphold.