Page 11 of Sinful as They Come
I knew for a fact that he was a shitty boyfriend. I may have been the last person to ever be part of the popular crowd – but I heard ever rumor about the two of them. Dude was fucking half the cheerleading team and she either didn’t know or didn’t care.
“Stop with the damn racket!” My dad called out.
A lovely greeting. I rolled my eyes. “Good afternoon to you as well.”
I looked at my dad who was seating in the fake leather recliner. He was in his usual seat with his usual old T-shirt shirt with the usual beer in his hand. He didn’t work. Didn’t want to. Which was another problem. I not only had to go to school, I also had to work so we had some cash. If it wasn’t for me, we’d have no money for food and rent.
Working as a mechanic wasn’t too bad, especially when the shop was run by Marve. Marve used to live at the trailer park before he started making some decent cash due to him being the only honest mechanic in the city. He had taken me under his wing back in the day and I had gotten good at fixing cars around the park when I was a kid. There wasn’t much else to do, anyway.
But I had been a quick learner, and fixing cars was quick cash. The best part was that he didn’t care that I had been in and out of juvie the last few years. It was all for stupid shit. Some school fights, some vandalism. Either way, he wasn’t bothered. Going to school and working at the same time was hard.
“Where the hell is Brodie?” he asked. “Or did he realize how useless you are and take off already?”
I moved to the window near the door to see where Brodie was. He had been behind me a minute ago. I shook my head at him. He was busy observing some of the plants I had placed out the front to spruce the place up a bit.
“He’s outside,” was my simple answer.
Dad glared at me. His once dark brown hair had turned all gray and it was slowly fading. His skin was sagging and his arms were covered in tattoos that also didn’t stand the test of time. They had lost their color too. His green eyes – the ones I unfortunately inherited from him – locked onto mine. He had something else to say.
“You don’t just come in here and make all that fucking noise!” he yelled.
“What, am I interrupting something important?” I stared at the TV screen. That was all he liked doing. Drinking. Gambling. TV. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was the same thing every day. “My bad. Sorry. Didn’t realize you were fucking busy.”
He shook his head once. “Don’t talk to me like that, boy.”
“I’m not a fuckingboyanymore.” My teeth were gritted as I spoke. “And I can talk to you how I want. I can do what I fucking want in here since it’s me who pays for the rent, the food, and whatever else this shit hole needs.”
“You think you’re so good because you got a job?” He stood up, stumbling on his feet. He was already so fucking drunk despite the sun not even setting yet.
“That’s not what makes me better than you.”
“Nothingmakes you better than me. You’re the reason your mother left. Don’t forget that. The reason we’re in this shit hole is because she fucking hated you. She hated you the second she saw your face.”
My hands turned into fists. The room suddenly got a lot hotter. There was one other thing that got under my skin – but no one else at school knew about it, so I usually didn’t have to worry about someone throwing it in my face. But my own dad loved to bring it up.
Mom took off the year I started school and I didn’t blame her a single bit.Things were shit before that point but they got even worse when it was just me and dad. A lot worse. But he loved bringing her up. I understood why she left, but God, I wished she had taken me with her. She was busy with her new family. Bet they didn’t get screamed at every time they came home.
“Keep drinking that shit,” I finally muttered out. “Hope it kills you.”
I walked away at that. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I breathed heavily as I walked to my room, needing some space. Some distance. If I got close to him, I’d fucking punch him right in the jaw. I slammed the door shut behind me and ignored my dad crying out a very loud “you fucking little bitch!” and just zeroed in on my bed.
God, it looked like heaven. A groan left my mouth as I fell on to the queen-sized mattress. My head was killing me. That argument hadn’t helped. I wondered what was in the fridge. There had been chicken wings in there in the morning, but judging by the stains on my dad’s shirt, he had probably already had at ‘em. I’d have to find something for me and Brodie.
Speak of the devil.
I heard his voice from behind my door. I didn’t say anything. Just flipped over and kicked my shoes off before I sat up against the wall. My room was also a dump. But I had made it my own. There were a few band posters on the walls. The table in the far-left corner was dedicated to all my art supplies. A few canvases leaned up against the wall: some done, some on the way to being completed. The two-door closet across from my bed was stocked with plaid shirts and tees. My room was nothing special, but at least it was mine.
Brodie suddenly pushed the door open without asking. He looked like he was moping.
“I warned you what he was like,” I told my cousin.
“I know. I just… I didn’t know what to expect,” Brodie sighed. “But I couldn’t stay in Wichita anymore after the divorce. Too messy. I’m surprised your dad let me stay here in the first place.”
“I’m not. You’re his favorite,” I said a little bitterly. Dad always liked his nephews and nieces more than he liked me. I patted down my jacket andfound my lighter and box of cigarettes, groaning a little when I saw I only had three left. Damn.
Lighting up a cigarette, I took in the solemn look that stayed on Brodie’s face. He was the sensitive one between the two of us, but if he was planning on living with me until his parents got their shit together, he’d have to harden up.
“You look like you’re about to cry,” I said with a mumble, the cigarette in between my lips.
