Tyler’s just about to push open his own door, but before he can jump out I hold his shoulder tight against the back of the seat to prevent him from moving. Unbuckling my seatbelt with my free hand, I lean forward over the center console and tilt my head to look at him. “What are you doing, Tyler?”
Now that I can look directly into his eyes, I can tell just how enraged he really is. Part of me can’t blame him for being aggravated, but part of me is also wondering what’s running through his mind right now. Knowing how irrational Tyler can be, I’m a little concerned. Especially with the way he’s looking back at me, his eyes blazing and his jaw tight. Refusing to give me an answer, he shrugs my grip off his shoulder and kicks open the car door, stepping out onto the sidewalk.
“Tyler!” I yell, but he’s already out of the car and walking around to the driver’s side. Jamie slips into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him, then folding his arms across his chest in defeat. Even I frown and settle into the backseat again, twiddling my thumbs. I’m unsure of what I’m supposed to do.
Tyler slides into the car behind the wheel, taking a moment or two to adjust to the automatic controls, then he takes off. Ella’s car screeches along Ninth Street controlled by Tyler’s fury as he continues to head north through the city. I try to catch his eye in the rearview mirror a couple times, but he never seems to be checking it, so he doesn’t notice.
“This is why Mom didn’t want to tell you,” Jamie says, throwing his hands up in exasperation as Tyler runs a stop sign. “She knew you’d flip out.”
Tyler doesn’t reply to his brother, the same way he didn’t reply to me, and I think both Jamie and I have figured out by now that he’s done talking. Neither of us attempts to say anything more. We only exchange concerned glances and shrugs as Tyler drives. We also both know exactly where he’s heading, yet there’s nothing we can do about it. He even taps his index fingers against the steering wheel as the anger continues to build up inside of him.
And in less than ten minutes, the car is crawling eastbound along Alta Avenue as Tyler glances from left to right, his eyes searching. He slams on the brakes at the intersection of Twenty-fifth Street, his glare coming to rest on one specific house. The one before us right now on the corner, with the white bricking and the red roof tiles. It’s Wesley Meyer’s house, whoever the hell he is, which means that it is also Tyler and Jamie’s dad’s current place of residence. And of course, that is the sole reason why we’re even here. Because of their dad.
Tyler cuts the engine, allowing silence to fall as he stares at the house. That’s all he does. Just stares as he breathes heavily, clenching his jaw over and over again. It’s like he’s mentally fighting with himself over whether or not he should get out of the car.
“So what?” Jamie asks after a minute or so, breaking the tense silence. “You’re gonna walk up to that door and tell him you hate him? Throw a punch? Kick his ass?”
Tyler grinds his teeth together and angles his face even more toward the window, as far away from Jamie’s stern glare as he can get. “You don’t get it,” he hisses, and the glass steams up.
“Hey,” Jamie says quickly, shaking his head despite the fact that Tyler’s not even looking, “you don’t think I wanna beat the hell out of him too? For your sake? But c’mon. Think about it. What’s the point? It’s stupid, and Mom’ll only have a breakdown if she knows you went near him.”
Jamie’s speaking a lot of sense, but it only seems to push Tyler toward the idea of getting out of the car, because that’s exactly what he does. He throws open the car door and slides out just as I’m parting my lips to speak, and immediately I jump out too. It’s almost like a reflex action to go after Tyler by now, and I run around the vehicle and throw my body in front of his on the middle of the lawn. Pressing my hands hard against his chest, I push him back a step.
“Jamie’s right,” I say. “You don’t want to do this.”
“I do.” He still has that terrifying look in his eyes that I’m not quite used to anymore. Two years ago, I was. Now? Not so much. It’s not him anymore. Tyler lost all that hostility a while ago, and it was replaced by all the positivity that came into his life while using his past as a means to help others. Yet now it seems like that’s all gone again. That aggravation is back. The kid with the hardened expression and the fierce eyes, the kid who spent every second of every day loathing his father is exactly who’s standing in front of me right now. “Why the fuck shouldn’t I?”