6

“If you hated your dad as much as you say you do, you would be long gone… I don’t think you do. I think you want to be here and act like this, so he spends all his time and attention dealing with your bull. You’re just an angry little boy who can’t forgive him yet still wants his love.”

“Gimme a break… what are you a shrink like your mom now? Trying to psychoanalyze me?” He laughs at me, a breathy bro chuckle, and shakes his head as though I’m hilarious. Still infuriating with his hands in his pocket pose and casual lounge. “Newsflash, she sucks at her job, and you’re mini-me attempt is as sad as she is. You don’t know anything.”

“Yes, I do, and don’t talk about my mom like that. She’s an amazing doctor and does it well. She tries hard to make this work. You just…”

“No, she doesn’t. You’re as deluded as she is if you see how she is and think that is her trying to make this work.” Dane yanks his shirt from my hand, where I was unaware I was still gripping it, and steps away from me. “I had enough of this shit in there and don’t have the energy for round two. Go away, leave me alone. I’m sure you have a biology essay calling for you. I have a date, and I’m late thanks to your mom, so back off, Virgin.”

Dane’s tone is forceful with a tint of exasperation, and I know we are going round in circles. This is not the first time we have had this argument in the past months, and it turns out the same every time. He walks off. Insults me, evades it, and leaves.

“You’re a loser who is so caught up in resentment that you’re ruining your own life.” It’s my last ditch attempt to wound him, and before I storm off, his laugh cuts into the growing tension as he turns towards me but continues to walk backward.

“What about you, Little Miss Perfect? Straight A’s, class president, leader of so many mind-numbing afterschool clubs, charity volunteer, and stray animal savior…. Never give your mom a reason to complain and do everything she tells you to, like a good little puppet. Ever ask yourself why you have to be so perfect?… Could it be because you’re afraid she’ll get tired of you like she did your dad and up and leave you?”

His words cut into my chest like a knife. Winding me and pushing my eyes to mist over. He’s always known how to twist the knife in my soul.

“You don’t know me…. none of that is accurate. There’s nothing wrong with being a good kid and doing well. I want to be something with my life and not waste it the way you are.” My voice trembles, and my breathing gets raspy. Hating him for touching a nerve, even if it’s not entirely accurate.

“There is when it’s become an obsessive compulsion from fear of your mom no longer loving you. Try failing something and experiencing the panic it causes you…. We’re both screwed up, Kayla…… You’re in no position to lecture me.”

“You know nothing…. You're an idiot.”

I have no words to come back at him. Incensed at the nerve of this jerk, thinking my need to succeed in life is some sad scar inflicted by my parent's divorce. I’m not him, so caught up in old hurts that I let them rule my life. He’s so stupid.

I can’t argue with it, insult him, think of a sassy response to shut him up, and instead try to brush it off the way I do his insults by not rising to them.

“Carry on living in denial and your boring day-to-day good girl existence … I’ll continue enjoying my youth.” He smirks, dismissing me.

“The fact you are walking tells me my mom took your bike again. Don’t come crying to me tomorrow for a loan of my car again. I won’t give it to you, and you better call Tyler for rides to and from school because I’m not your chauffeur.” I sneer at him, knowing it’s the only punishment my mom can ever exact that my stepdad will support. They take his bike keys and helmets for a few days to try and teach him the consequences of his crappy attitude. He’s always soft on him and holds my mom back when, maybe, if he let her rip at him once in a  while, he might grow up.

“Whatever. Look, butt out of my business, okay? We may live in the same house, and our parents may be married, but you are nothing to me but an annoying girl who should stick in her own lane. Concentrate on your own life and get out of mine.”

I want to scream at him. My skin prickles and my heart is pounding through my rib cage, so my breathing is labored while he acts cool as a cucumber. Every word out of that arrogant mouth somehow makes me always want to have the last say. To shut him up, close him down. He’s so self-absorbed.

“You think it’s that easy? Do you even know what the past ten years were like? Being questioned every day after school to check in on you. How you were, who your friends were… your grades…. were you happy? You may have avoided your dad, but I became the source of information that kept him sane because I got to see you every day at school. I don’t want to be in your life, but it’s been about you since the day they got married.” I glare hatefully. “He loves you and tries, but you aren’t worthy.” I stamp my foot “I so wannabe nothing in your life, but you’re a curse I can never get rid of.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Virgin. Go home.” He salutes me with a mock military sign, a smirk, and a chuckle as though all of this is highly amusing, even though I’m panting like I ran a marathon. Holding back a mix of fury and tears borne of frustration. I don’t know how he always affects me this way.

The flash of car headlights rounds the end of the drive and illuminates the dark area behind him, indicating his date is here, and I scowl further as he glances their way and waves a two-minute signal. I catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure, but I can’t tell who she is. Another bimbo he's banging, and that alone is enough to worsen my already foul mood. He’s a man whore loser who will spend his life living on his dad’s money and doing nothing to earn it.

“Kayla, the best thing you could do, is stay away from me … at school, at home…. Wherever you see me…. and tell them you know nothing when he asks. I never asked you to be involved. I owe you nothing. Now… go, I’m leaving.”