Page 86 of Afterglow
“Shut up, Park.” It comes out softer than I want.
“Not that he cares about that or anything.” His loathing transfers to me. “Didn’t care to call his own family.”
My face gets three degrees hotter, repeating the command louder, more firmly. “I said, shut up.”
“C’mon guys.” Greer tries to dissipate the brewing confrontation. “It’s been months since we’ve seen each other. Can’t we have one peaceful meal together?”
“Sure.” Parker drops his napkin onto his plate, scraping the legs of the chair across the floor before standing. “Enjoy yourpeacefulmeal.”
Bea goes ashen. For a moment, I weigh my options, wondering if it’s a good idea to leave her with my sisters and go after Parker, but anger diminishes any logic. It crawls over every inch of my reddened skin. I jump to my feet.
“Fletch—” Piper and Greer say simultaneously.
“Don’t,” I cut them off, gritting through my teeth, “I’ve had enough.”
Following the sound of his heavy footsteps leads to the rec room. My asshole brother rounds the foosball table, grabs a beer from the mini fridge, and opens it with a loudpop.
“Hey!”
He slouches into the couch, takes a long gulp, then belches. “Oh,nowyou wanna talk.”
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me, foronce.” Cursing at my brother feels unfamiliar on my tongue and takes a second to get used to. “I’m so sick of your bullshit. You wanna be a dick to me, fine, be my fucking guest.” My arms move around mid-air. “I’m used to it. But that’smygirlfriend. You won’t be disrespecting her again, got it? She’s the only reason I’m here.”
He scoffs. “Yeah? Dad slowly dying or spending time with youractualfamily wasn’t convincing enough?”
“Fuck you.” My index finger points, direct and accusing, emboldened by simmering rage. “Don’t act like you’re some sort of saint because you live on the next block and cut their grass every week. You’re not the only one pulling weight?—”
He takes another glug of beer. “Yeah, throwing all that money around solved everyone’s problems, eh?”
I growl, frustrated. “It always comes down to money with you, doesn’t it? You don’t give a fuck that I got hurt, but if I couldn’t play, you’d have to actually do shit like take care of Mom and Dad.”
“Okay, Fletch, sure. Keep telling yourself thatI’mthe bad guy. You think your little girlfriend out there doesn’t care about money? You think Bea’s with you for what, your athletic prowess and brilliant mind?”
Yeah, asshole. And my huge dick.
“Get fucked, Parker.” The large coffee table bars the space between us. Probably for the best, otherwise I’d reach over and punch her name right out of his mouth. Then I’d be no better than him. “You don’t know shit about her. She may have hit me, but at least she was sorry about it.”
That one seems to sting. His eyes darken over the top of the can. “Me checking you on the ice is the reason you could take it.”
“I was a kid.” Hurt smolders in my chest, as if it happened last week instead of fifteen years ago.
“And now you’re a man. All grown-up and keeping secrets, making reckless decisions that affect all of us.”
“Reckless for who, exactly? Yeah, it was pretty reckless not to tell you I had a severe concussion. Reckless to allow a near-stranger to care for me over my own family. Now, why would I do that, huh, Park? You forget already?” Steam has to be coming out of my ears by now with how vehemently I’m sweating from this verbal diarrhea. “Youtold me not to come home, becauseyouthink I’m not good enough, not capable of making the right choice—no, the choice thatyouwant me to make.Youthink,youwant. And that’s what goes. Nothing anybody else thinks, wants, or says matters. Right? You know what’s best foreveryone.” The word exaggerates with my jazz hands and a singing lilt.
“And what about you?” Parker rolls his eyes and shakes his head, denying and disapproving in the simple motion. “You used to be so focused, locked in. Now you don’t give a damn about hockey, too busy with playing house and fucking around with—” A dismissive hand flails in the air, motioning toward the door.
“What did I say about disrespecting my girlfriend, Park?” I warn, a finality stabilizing my tone. One set of knuckles cracks under the pressure of my other hand. “Say one more thing about her.”
Parker’s eyebrows rise and drop while lifting a palm in surrender.
The breaths taken through my nostrils steady from harsh intakes of air. “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
A humorless laugh leaves his chest. “The best thing?”
“Yeah, thebestthing.” I lower to the opposing armchair with a sigh, and scrub my face, wholly tired of the argument. “You don’t get to tell me how to fucking feel about the woman I love.” He nurses his drink, possibly accepting he’s not gonna win this time. “You think I wanna be in here, fighting with you? That I wouldn’t rather be enjoying the rare free time I have with the people I love?”
My brother doesn’t say anything, simply sips his drink and fidgets with the pop tab while I continue. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to have the career you dreamed of, Parker. It sucks.” His eyes go glassy at the mention. “And I know you don’t think so, but Iamgrateful for everything you did for me. I just…can’t keep living for you. I’m not a vessel you can fill with your expectations and shit in whenever I don’t live up to them. I’m a person, Park.”
