Chapter 33 Cal
Jack didn’t make a sound as he left, but that didn’t matter.
He took my heart with him, leaving me cold and empty.
The frigid spike that straightened my back might as well have been the gust of air as he opened the back door.
The hollow ache in my chest was the door latching closed and Jack being on the wrong side of it.
Alone.
Fuck.
“Whatever excuse you have for yourself can wait.”
I raised my eyebrows just enough to ask a silent question. Why? Or rather, was that supposed to be news to me? When it came to my parents, I’d always be waiting. Waiting my turn to be important. Waiting for my chance to grab their attention.
“Your momma’s picking up Cara on her way here.”
Great. Family night. And it was all my fault. He didn’t say it. It sat accusingly in his eyes.
No wonder he was so pissed.
I nodded and rubbed the bruise on my chest. The soreness ran deep with tendrils now reaching like vines tightening around my lungs.
I’d swear Sasha was a mastermind, a genius, if I wanted to give her that much credit.
She’d come into my orbit like a comet and struck hard, leaving lasting impressions.
Daddy jerked his tie loose, and I used it as a chance to escape long enough to splash water on my face. If I could get the words out, tell him about the abuse, would he ever be ready to listen them?
In the downstairs bathroom, I doused my eyes, then stared at my reflection as the droplets made cold tracks on my cheeks.
Make him listen.
I must’ve stood there for a while, zoning out.
The front door opened with muted conversations through walls, including the distinct higher pitch of Cara among the noise.
The redness in my face had receded a bit, making me look tired instead of pitiful.
I took a deep breath, thought of Jack, then left the bathroom to face the firing squad.
“Cara, go to your room. We need to talk to your brother,” Momma said as I cautiously approached the three of them.
Daddy had rolled his sleeves to just below his elbows and unbuttoned his collar. As casual as he would ever be, ready to spar.
“Why?” Cara sassed. “I’m part of this family too. I should hear what’s going on.”
“Cara. Room. Now,” Daddy said.
Fearless, my little sister lifted her chin and came to stand next to me. Momma and Daddy glanced at each other, and then Daddy sighed.
“Your behavior this year has been intolerable, young man,” Momma said. “Fighting, bullying …”
“Cal is no bully,” Cara snapped.
“Watch your tone,” Momma said. “Your brother is on thin ice, and now I see the both of you have just run wild while I’ve been gone.”
Daddy reared back as he spun on his heels to face her. “You’re kidding me,” he deadpanned. “You’re blaming me for this?”
Momma turned slowly, scarily, like without a muscle twitch, just willed herself to pivot.
“You know, I don’t recall mentioning you at all in that statement, but come to think of it, yes I am.
” Momma waved toward Cara and me. “Obviously, you’ve been treating them the same as you treated me, carelessly, lazily, no concern whatsoever as long as money was in the bank. ”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” Daddy shouted.
“I work long days, and when I come home, it’s not done.
I’ve got paperwork, research. I’m on call half the week, and the other half, I barely have time to sleep, much less anything remotely close to normal fathers or husbands. I’m only one fucking person, Sara.”
Cara pressed closer to me, circling my wrist with her small hand. I’d long since gotten used to them together like this, but shouting in general made her uncomfortable.
“You both need to stop,” I tossed into their standoff.
Daddy pointed at me. “You’ve got no room to talk in this. You’re just as much a drain on my sanity as your momma.”
Momma gasped, but no doubt it was for her own sake and not mine.
“Stop being so mean,” Cara shouted. “You won’t even listen to him.”
“It’s okay, Cara,” I muttered, not wanting her to fight my battles.
But then again, was I fighting my battles?
Their life isn’t more important than you living your own.
Daddy scoffed. “Just like your momma, Cal.”
“I can hear you,” Momma sneered.
Daddy didn’t stop to reply to her. “You’ve been given everything in life, and what have you done with it?
There are kids out there without a dime to their name, and you’ve wasted your privilege.
” He shook his head. “You think a college like MIT is in your future now? With your history of fighting, they won’t look twice at your application. ”
“I don’t care,” I shot back. Tired. Done. Just so done with this shit. “Maybe not MIT, and obviously not with your help, but I’m getting the hell out of here. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you, this house, it makes me sick.”
And true to form, he went on as if I’d said nothing, ignoring me. “The pranks, stirring up trouble with other athletes, and this shit with your girlfriend has tanked your chances.”
“She’s not my—” I forced through gritted teeth, but he talked over me, of course.
“You had a good thing going with that girl, and you shat all over it. Did you cheat on her too?”
“What the hell, Martin?” Momma gaped.
Yet again, they turned on each other, yelling, accusing, trying to be the loudest in the room.
Cara flinched at my side each time they traded shouts and barbs.
Both were red-faced and heaving. It’d been a while since all four us were in this house with no one else to hear the ugly truths flung between them.
The walls had done their best to hide the painful parts of this family from the world over the last year.
And I’d become one of those walls. Something strong and immovable for their arguments to bounce off.
I’d reinforced it with smiles in public and torments in private.
I’d pushed the hurt, the stinging reality, so far down, no wonder I’d never been able to stand up against Sasha.
This had become normal. This strain to remain upright created a never-ending fatigue that I couldn’t muster the strength to do anything other than stand tall.
The battered places had healed over with scar tissue and made me numb to everything.
Everything except …
Jack.
With teeth, he’d bitten into me. With nails, he’d dug deeper and deeper. With cutting words and desperation, he’d torn me down, the wall. Not to hurt me, but to free me.
Cara sniffled and blinked away tears with thinned lips and red cheeks.
Fuck this.
With years of practice yelling across a football field and over the cheers of fans, I found that big boy voice and yelled, “Both of you, shut the fuck up!”
And they did.
My words echoed back at us, and the silence that followed was a loud, uncomfortable ringing in my ears.
Momma and Daddy turned to face me, blinking in shock. Their stunned ceasefire wouldn’t last long, so I had to make this count.
“Listen to yourselves,” I continued in the same booming voice. “You both’re terrible parents. Hateful. Spiteful. Self-involved. Apathetic to anything outside the need to bicker like children. More concerned about topping each other than who you step on to get there.”
“Cal—” Momma said, but I wasn’t finished.
“I said shut up. Both of you, the absolute worst. I’m sick of you using me and Cara as a soapbox just so you can preach to each other about how the other fucked up. Guess what? You both fucked up! And you’re still fucking up!”
Daddy opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him the chance.
“For over a year, you’ve been doing this, putting us in the middle, yellin’ and brayin’ worse than a bunch of stubborn asses. You’ve resolved nothin’, and I don’t even think you want to anymore.”
“This”—Daddy gestured between himself and Momma—“is about you, Cal. You’re in the middle because of your behavior.”
“You picked a fight with a little girl,” Momma added. For once, they were actually fighting on the same side.
“No, he didn’t,” Cara said.
I shook my head and snorted, happy that they weren’t yelling any longer and actually talking. But it was time to set the record straight. “I dunno what you heard, but you heard wrong.”
Daddy took a deep breath. “The school said you and your girlfriend—”
“Goddammit, would you listen to me? I’m fucking queer!” I heaved in air, hating I’d cursed so much already, but by their wide eyes, both of them heard me, at least. “Sasha is not my girlfriend. We broke up. I’m into guys. I have a boyfriend.”
“You’re …” Dad trailed off.
“That got your attention, huh? Yeah,” I said. “I’m dating Jack. You know, the guy you yelled at earlier. The one you told to ‘get out of your fucking house.’”
Daddy almost looked regretful for a second, then squared his shoulders. “But you’ve dated girls. I’m confused.”
“Have I? I only ever hung around Sasha, not girls plural. And if you’d ever bothered to get your head out of your ass when I tried to talk to you, then you’d know how messed up I was over it. I don’t think I ever wanted to be with her, but I didn’t know what I wanted until Jack.”
“You two dated for a year,” Momma said.
I reached over my head and between my shoulder blades, then yanked my shirt off.
Momma gasped and rushed forward. “Who did this to you?”
“Sasha, Momma,” Cara said softly. “She’s mean to him.”
I hated like hell that Cara had seen any of it, but what could I do about it now? If I was okay with her standing beside me, facing our parents over this shit, then I had to be okay with her knowing all of it. Maybe I needed more people to know all of it.
Daddy moved nearer as well, and I kept my gaze on him as I answered with a tired sigh. “That little girl both of you want to defend. Sasha isn’t weak.” But I have been. “She abused me, harassed me, for a long time.” Shit, that hurt to admit more than her stabbing me had.
But it was done. It was out there.
Daddy’s gaze roamed over me as if for the first time in years, then locked on my arm. “And this?”