Page 44 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“Of course I can. I am THIRTEEN years old! I want to start hearing the TRUTH!”

“Once again, I know how old you are, Danny. Take a deep breath in and out, please.”

I breathe in and out. I kinda growl while I do it.

“Okay. I guess that’s...good,” Peter responds. “She’s family. She’s sincerely trying to quit right now. I’m not lying to you, and I would never let her stay here if I thought she was putting you in danger. You understand that you’ll always come first, right?”

“She’s not my family. I JUST TOLD YOU I HATE HER!” I stand and throw my arms in the air.

“Do you know that she can hear you? She’s just down the hall.” He places his hands on his knees.

“I hope she does hear me!”

He rubs his head and closes his eyes. “Go to your room. You need to calm down and change your tone before you speak to me.”

“This is the only way I can get it through your BIG, THICK HEAD!”

“I’m not talking to you if you’re going to carry on like this. When you calm down, we’ll have a conversation, man to man.” He leans back on the couch and crosses his legs. His chillness is making me even more angry.

“I don’t want to have a conversation! You bought her jewelry? What is she, your girlfriend now?”

He doesn’t answer me. He doesn’t freaking answer me.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS, PETER?”

“I asked you to go to your room and calm down. Then we’ll talk.”

“I’m going to my room, but not because I want to calm down. Because I want to get away from you!”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I DON’T LOVE YOU.”

“That’s fine.”

I bust into my room and slam the door behind me. I lay down and close my eyes.

***

WHEN I WAKE UP, THEroom’s dark. I must have fallen asleep. I smell something good.

I open my door and head to the kitchen. Peter’s in there, sitting at the table. A tray’s sitting on top of the stove.

“What is that?” I ask.

“I made you something.”

“What’d you make me?” I rub my eyes, walk over to the tray, and take the foil off. Buffalo chicken dip...

“You want to eat some dip and watch a movie?” He smiles, holding a bag full of cut-up bread chunks. “Just you and me, bud?”

“Okay, but I get to choose the movie.”

“That’s fine.”

“And it’s going to be rated R.”

“Okay.”

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