CHAPTER TWO
I pulled Put–Put into my parents’ driveway, amazed at how dark it was already. The clocks had gone back last week and I still hadn’t adjusted to the perpetual gloominess. I hated knowing it would be a long time before the sun was bright and the days were long.
I eyed the house warily. The lights were on. The warm contrast against the darkness would have normally made me feel all cozy inside, but it made me feel strangely anxious instead, like the house was alive and waiting for me. I wasn’t sure what that meant but I knew I probably had to trust my instincts. They were right most of the time.
I walked over to the front door, slowly fishing out my key. I paused on the bottom step. A strange wave of energy radiated towards me from the closed door. My anxious feeling intensified. I looked around me, wondering what it could be. A movement at my bedroom window on the second floor caught my eye.
It was Ada. Her small frame was barely visible against my room, which was lit only by my desk lamp. She was waving at me frantically, making the shooing motion.
I was about to step back and holler at her, hoping she would open the window and explain what was going on, when the front door flew open. My father was on the other side.
“Are you going to come inside?” he bellowed.
This was not the normal greeting from my father. Though it was hard to see his face since he was backlit by the foyer, I could tell he was scowling. Few things strike fear in my heart quite like my father does when he’s angry. Ghosts and skinwalkers were one thing, but my dad was something else. Something I understood. Our tempers were unfortunately very similar.
I swallowed hard. “I was just looking for my keys.”
He glanced down at the keys visible in my hand and walked back in the house. I didn’t want to follow him but I had no choice.
I walked inside and closed the door gently behind me. He had disappeared. I shook off my boots, placing them neatly in the hall closet instead of leaving them lying on the floor like I usually did, and creeped forward down the hallway, hoping that I could get to the stairs and the safety of my room before anything happened.
“Perry?” I heard my mother call out from the living room.
I turned to my left and saw her and my father sitting on separate armchairs. They looked like a job–interviewing panel. In the light of the room, my dad was indeed scowling. He was sucking in his cheeks, something he did when he was keeping the verbal volcano on lockdown. Underneath his glasses, his eyes explored my mother’s face and avoided my own.
My mother looked rather blank except for the lines of worry that always wiggled on her forehead. I didn’t like this situation at all. >
I heard a noise behind me and turned to see Ada standing awkwardly on the staircase, staring at me frightfully. Her eyes were red like she had been crying and her makeup was more smudged than normal, which said a lot.
“Go back to your room, Ada,” my dad said forcefully without looking at her.
Ada’s eyes met with mine and I could almost hear her saying, ‘I told you to not come home’ in my head. Then she ran up the stairs and I was left feeling very alone and very scared.
“I called you today, Perry,” my father said thickly.
“Uh, I know. I called you back but no one answered.”
“I wanted to know if you wanted to go out for lunch with me since I was heading into the city.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I stammered. My heart began to thump louder. This was not just about missing a lunch with my dad. I knew deep down inside what this was all about.
“So, I decided to surprise you and stop by your office,” he said, his eyes focusing on me like a laser beam.
My heart must have stopped. It felt like it fell out from my chest and onto the floor, along with my lungs and nerves. It’s exactly what I was afraid of. He knew. They knew. I was done for.
I couldn’t say anything. What was there to say? The room swayed.
He continued, “Do you know what I found when I got to your office? I saw a strange receptionist. And when I asked if I could speak with you, I was told that you no longer worked for the company. Naturally, I got a little upset.”
Oh God. I could just see my father blowing a gasket in the middle of my old work, disturbing the stuffy advertising suits just as I had done on more than a few occasions.
“And then your boss – sorry, your ex–boss – came out and explained to me what happened. She had told me they had to let you go. You took your promotion and then demanded you be allowed to work part–time.”
My father continued on, trying very hard to keep his voice down and in control. I stopped listening. His voice wavered in and out of my ears without sinking past the first barrier. I looked at my mother but was unable to read her face. I knew she was disappointed in me too and that was probably an understatement.
“Are you listening to me?” my dad shouted, rising up out of his chair, his stocky body hovering over me. I had no choice but to listen. “Do you know how, how f*cking humiliating it was to discover you had been fired?”
I winced and took a step backward. My dad was religious and never, ever swore. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him that angry. Maybe back in high school when I was involved in that “accident.”
I felt tears pricking the back of my eyes and a building feeling of hate and frustration flowing up through my throat. I was either going to vomit or yell back at him. The former would be a million times more preferable.
“We trusted you! You lied to us. For weeks!” he screamed, spittle flying off his lips and into my face.
“I had to!” I yelled back, unable to keep it down. “You wouldn’t have understood at all!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me!” he yelled even louder.
I bit my lip hard, hard enough so that I tasted the bitter salt of blood and clenched my fists until I felt all the energy getting choked in them.
“All of this for some stupid show. A show based on lies! A show that makes you look like a total idiot. Useless, meaningless and stupid.”
The dam burst. Tears spilled out of my eyes, my fingers uncurled and picked up the nearest object, a lamp, and gripped it in my hands, ready to throw it across the room.
“Don’t you f*cking call me stupid!” I screamed. The scream came up like an overpowering wave of anger, like it was a cloud of pure hatred rising out of my body. My world blurred for a split second as the feelings drowned me.
Then...
All the paintings on the wall shook violently and fell to the ground in a simultaneous smash.
I froze. So did my father. I saw a flicker of fear behind his eyes. My mother covered her face in her hands and whimpered, “Not again” to herself.
I was panting heavily, trying to catch my breath as the fuzzy threads of unconsciousness began to fade in the corner of my mind. The living room carpet was bordered with glass fragments. Had my scream brought them down off their hooks? Was that possible?
My dad looked around him, dumbfounded, and back at me. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. He walked over to my mother and patted her on the back. She was crying softly.
“You see what you did. You’re scaring your mother again,” he said. His voice had quieted but the accusatory tone was still there.
I took in a deep breath and carefully placed the lamp back on the table. My emotions were coming back around. I didn’t need to break the lamp in order to prove my point.
“I’m sorry,” I said feebly. “I should have told you I got fired but I didn’t want you to know. I was afraid you’d make me quit the show.”
“Damn right you’re going to quit the show,” my dad said.
The urge to explode was rising again. I eyed the lamp.
“Perry, please don’t start this,” my mom whispered through her hands. I paused. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading. Not from concern but from fright. She was afraid of me.
I wanted to ask what she meant by “this” but I didn’t. That seemed like a path I didn’t need to go down at the moment.
“I’m not quitting,” I managed to squeak out. There was no way that was happening. It wasn’t an option. They should have known that.
“Perry,” my father warned.
“No. No, I am not quitting. This job is all I have!” The panic in my voice was unmistakable.
He laughed. It was bitter, angry. “It’s not a job. I have a job, Perry.”
“It pays. I am making money. I signed a contract to be employed by ShowNet. So it is a job.” I was losing my patience and afraid I was losing the war.
“I am not discussing this with you further. As long as you live in this house, you will not be doing that show.”
“Oh yeah? Well, try and stop me,” I said, crossing my arms, surprised at my own stubbornness and nerve.
He looked surprised too. He sat back down in his armchair with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
My mother spoke up gently, “Perry, we’re more concerned with the fact that you lied to us. I didn’t think you would lie like that anymore.”
“I said I was sorry,” I mumbled but kept my stance. “And I am sorry. I feel terrible about it. I haven’t been able to sleep, I haven’t been able to eat. And I’m not lazing around doing nothing, I’m out every day looking for jobs. It’s just hard. No one is hiring.”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t messed everything up,” dad said. “You had a chance for a great career and you threw it away. I mean, you actually had it in your hands, Perry. We were so proud of you. Why did you have to ruin it? Why do you have to make problems for yourself? You need to just…grow up.”
The tears were coming again. Not from anger or frustration but because I truly did feel terrible. I hated lying to them and even more than that, I hated the fact that they thought less of me.
The tears spilled down my cheeks but I tried to hold it together.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again, feeling utterly, destructively helpless.
“Just…go, Perry. Your mother and I have a lot to talk about,” my father said, turning his attention away from me. It was like he couldn’t even look in my direction anymore.
I sniffled, wiping my tears on my coat jacket and took off up the stairs, my vision blurring. I almost tripped on the last step but suddenly Ada was beside me and had me by the arm. We didn’t say anything to each other; she just took me down the hall to her room and led me inside. I stumbled through my tears and flopped onto her bed.
I spent a few minutes heaving into the down comforter, my sobs choking my breath. Ada patted me on the back and I was thankful for the rare affection from my little sister.
“Parents just don’t understand,” I said into the blanket, my voice muffled.
“What?” she asked.
I rolled over and gave her a weak smile. “Will Smith was onto something.”
She still looked puzzled at my old school rap reference. “Whatever. I’m sorry they found out.”
“Did they figure out you knew?”
She nodded. No wonder it looked like she had been crying. They laid into her for lying for me, for trying to save my ass. I felt very guilty for bringing her into my mess, for having to cover up my lies. I told her that.
“It’s OK,” she said licking her finger and wiping away her mascara smudges on her cheeks. “They were mad, though. Dad said some pretty mean stuff.”
“I bet Mom wasn’t an angel either,” I scoffed.
She tilted her head. “Actually…Mom was standing up for you.”
I sat up a bit straighter. “Really?”
My mom and I weren’t exactly close. We never had been. That feeling that I had earlier, that she was afraid of me…it didn’t exactly come from nowhere. I always felt my mom treated me with kid gloves, more for her own concern than mine.
“Yeah. She thought maybe this would lead you to something better down the road. The show. Not the whole fake job thing. She even told Dad it wasn’t that big of a deal if you didn’t have a job at the moment since you were living at home anyway.”
That didn’t sound like my mom at all.
“You’re sure?”
She shrugged and got off the bed. She peered in the mirror. “I don’t know, it’s just what she said. Then Dad ended up yelling at her. You know, the usual stupid shit. And I ran away while I could. And that’s why I told your stupid ass not to come home.”
Well, would it have killed you to text a little more information? I thought, but didn’t say anything. She had done enough for me already.
She glanced at me. “So what are you going to do now? What are you going to say to Dex?”
Dex. Oh shit. For the first time in awhile, I had completely forgotten about him.
“You going to call him?” She came over to the bed and sat beside me.
“I can’t deal with that now,” I said, though I knew I would have to tell him something. I was supposed to meet him in Seattle on Friday.
It was just too much. My head began to spin wildly and I fell back into the covers, closing my eyes, wanting to shut everything out.
“Want me to text him?” she asked.
I sighed. “Could you?”
She reached into my coat pocket and pulled my phone out. “There’s only one Dex in your contacts, right?”
I nodded.
“OK, well what do you want me to write? Sorry dude, I have to bail. Forever...” She trailed off dramatically.
“Oh, give it to me,” I said impatiently, and snatched it from her hands. If I had to think about what to say, I might as well write it myself.
I typed the first thing that came to my head.
– Bad news. My parents are forbidding me to do the show. I’m so sorry. I’ll try and talk them out of it but no promises. I am so sorry. –
I hesitated before pressing Send. It felt like a cop–out. But I did press it and threw the phone away from me. I covered my eyes with my hands.
“Ugh.”
I waited a few seconds before I nervously eyed it. It was on silent after all.
Ada followed my gaze and peered at the phone.
“Nothing yet,” she said. She looked back at me, “What are you more upset about? Losing the show or losing Dex?”
The question startled me. It was oddly accurate. “Who are you, my shrink now?”
“Well, since the old shrink quit, I –” she started with a smirk.
“Shut up,” I cut her off.
“Hey,” she smacked my leg. “You owe me, stupid head.”
“I know.” I just wanted to avoid the question. Finally I said, “It’s both.”
That was the truth. I was terrified of losing the show because it’s all I had going for me. It’s what kept me going, kept my confidence, kept a strange sense of importance and destiny in my soul. It’s like I was meant to do this (do something) after years of searching blindly for anything that made me feel like I was as good enough as anyone else, or hell, even better, and I didn’t want to let it go.
And Dex. I couldn’t let Dex go. It was no secret I was in love with him, no matter how hard I tried to push my feelings down or rationalize it in some logical way. I just loved the guy. I know I didn’t know him that well – but I loved what I did know. And what I didn’t know drove me crazy like some book that you can’t stop reading, just to see how it ends, just to see if your hunches were right. The thought of losing him, even as just his dorky little partner, pained me. Literally. The more I thought about it, the more my heart seized up in sharp little spasms. I put my hand on my chest in an effort to soothe it.
There was pity in Ada’s big blue eyes. She knew. I didn’t have to say anything. Silence enveloped us both as I got lost in my own thoughts, and she in hers.
“Things will work out,” she eventually said.
I really wanted to believe that. “Must be nice to be young and optimistic.”
“You’re young too.”
“Well, I’m not 15-years old anymore. When I was 15, I thought I was invincible. And don’t say anything about how I was all f*cked up back then; it’s not part of my point.”
She kept her snide remarks to herself and looked over at the phone. An apprehensive wave flashed across her brow. I knew the text had come through. >
She handed it to me. I didn’t want to look at it. I gave it back to her.
“You read it. Don’t tell me what it says,” I said.
She read it over. I studied her face carefully. The side of her mouth stretched slightly. It wasn’t good. I felt sick.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“You told me not to tell you!”
“It’s bad, isn’t it? He’s mad, isn’t he?”
“Uh. I’d say so. He says ‘Are you shitting me? You need to be an adult and learn to handle your parents better. This is f*cking ridiculous’.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped and took the phone. She wasn’t lying or sugar–coating it either. “Wha…what do I say? He hates me.” I spat out the last words. The tears pinched behind my eyes, threatening to emerge again.
“What did you expect, Perry? I mean…he’s kind of right.”
I fastened my eyes on her, hoping her smug face would burst into a million flames. She flinched a little and that same look I saw in my mother’s eyes passed over hers. All the anger and bitterness from earlier was rising up from my throat. It wanted to come out and get her.
I closed my eyes tightly and tried to keep calm. I felt so disjointed. It was hard to get control of my thoughts and to keep reality in check. She was just being Ada; I should have known better than that. And Dex had every right to be mad. If he hated me, I could only just accept it. I was the only one to blame here.
There was so much shame inside me. So much that it scared me. I felt like I was heading down a big, deep hole again. Who would pull me out this time? I couldn’t even trust myself to do it. I was a miserable, pathetic mess. No job. No show. No Dex.
“Are you OK?” Ada asked. I realized I had been off in my head, boring holes in her Zac Efron poster with my eyes. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed but my knuckles were blue from gripping my phone.
I wasn’t OK. Not in the slightest. I needed to either pass out and push the world go away, or embrace it and put on the angriest music I had. Since almost all of my music was angry rock and heavy metal, that wouldn’t be a problem. NIN might do the trick. Then I would systematically trash my bedroom and maybe put a hole in my wall. I’d done it before.
“You know what,” she said getting up. “I’m going to go make you some tea. Then we’ll think of what to do next and stuff.”
I nodded bleakly and laid my head down on her pillow.