Page 3 of Twisted Collide

After this, my father will make my life a living hell until I’m finally off to college.

I can’t wait for that day.

It’s the fastest way out of this joint.

I pace back and forth, waiting for his wrath.

It’s wishful thinking to hope that the drive here will cool him off. Nope. On the contrary, it gives him time to simmer in his rage. He’s probably thought up every insult he can possibly throw my way.

Ungrateful.

Incompetent.

Idiot.

Then, the speech will come. Jonathan Sinclair lectures like he’s the keynote speaker of a TedTalk. I expect it to be twice as bad,since I pulled my parents away from a charity event and their important friends. Surprise. Surprise.

There’s always something more important. A reason not to be home with me and my kid sister. It doesn’t really affect me these days since I’m almost out, but Molly is stuck in that house for at least seven more years with that dickhead.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel because college starts in the fall. But Molly’s only eleven, which means years of neglect are still in her future.

That’s the one thing that makes moving away from Ohio hard.

Leaving her behind.

Knowing that, once I go, no one will be here to take care of her.

I shake my head, pulling my mind away from its usual depressing thoughts. She’ll be okay. I peer up at the night sky and take in the darkness that bathes me from above.

The stars are bright tonight, and if it weren’t for my pissed-off father headed to pick me up right now, I’d give anything to just sit and get lost in the peaceful moment.

Where anything is possible.

A life far from here.

One where my life isn’t controlled.

One where I can just be me.

What I would give not to have my father’s voice in my ear. In my head. Telling me what a failure I am.

The only place I excel is hockey, and even then, I’m still not good enough.

I start to pace.

This is taking too long. Where is he? With each passing second, my anxiety grows.

Time moves slow, though.

It creeps over me like grains of sand.

I’m not sure how much time goes by, but eventually, I see a car heading toward the house. My body tenses as I prepare for what’s to come.

It’s not the car I expected, however.

Nope.

It’s yet another police officer called to the scene to help disperse the crowd of underage drinkers.

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