Page 24 of Peaches

He goes to walk away, back the way we came, but I pull him quickly to my side and stop him before he gets too far.

I don’t know why. Honestly, I really shouldn’t care if we ditch out on this extremely awkward night. Plus, that would get me off the hook for having to pretend to be someone, and it looks likesomething, I entirely am not. But something about the way he did a Dr. Jekell and Mr. Hyde three sixty on me in the car earlier when that call came in, has me wanting to know more about what lies ahead, and has me feeling the need to stand up for him with whoever it is he is trying to avoid here tonight.

Why? I really don’t know, but hang with me a little longer while we both try and figure it out.

Plus, there is the little added thing about money for Archie. Totally top on my list. Yup, absolutely above the wholelook at me, Brett, I’m your heroinemotive,because, let’s be honest, I’m obviously that good at lying to myself.

Looking back at the patio, I catch the eyes of a man in the distance.The General.I’d know it without Brett even having to introduce us. The look he gives me from far away, even in our seemingly hidden shadows, is threatening, demeaning, cold and makes my skin break out in a slight sweat.

“It can’t be that bad,” I whisper.

“Bad?” He exclaims at my side. “Sure, whatever you say.”

He starts to walk again, this time pulling me through the clearing of magnolia trees and jasmine and onto the pathway. “Let this be your first lesson in worth, Peaches. Self-worth. After all, my father’s always been an expert on the damn subject.”

Brett

Another F!

Fuck me!

Quite literally, actually.

If not, my father will make it his own personal mission that my life is fucked-up beyond any recognition to the one that I currently know.

Possessions won’t be the only thing taken away onceThe Generalgets his hands on this report card.

I could care less about the shit he’ll ground me from.

Video games. Phone calls. Friends.

All accessories in life, when you really look close at them.

What hurts the most, before I ever even hand over the piece of paper in my hands that somehow holds the power to shape my future, is the venom he’ll spout. First into my mind, and then through my veins as my whole entire being tries to deny what he’s saying and defend myself against what my already fearful heartfearsmost, that he might be right.

The bus door closes behind me, a loud clank makes me jolt as I’m suddenly separated from any real form of escape. Alone, and having no choice but to put one foot in front of the other and meet my maker, so to speak, I stare down at the piece of paper in my hands again and swallow over a large lump in my throat. My hands shake as I hear the roar of the engine and the large yellow vehicle takes off behind me. Looking up, I force myself to breathe even though, if I’m being honest, I feel myself barely able to manage even that one small necessity in life knowing the outcome ahead of me.

The gates open just as Wadsworth makes his way out of the front door. Fred, to be more accurate. A man who is more of a father to me than my old man could ever be, that is if you don’t count Pops. But seeing that Pops and Grams are away on business, and my mother isn’t feeling well, a recent development that’s got my stomach in knots, I’m forced to square off with the old man and pray Wadsworth doesn’t go far if The General’s punishment threatens to get out of hand, like most of the times it has before.

I try and shake the heavy weight quickly settling in around me like a fog, and attempt to find some sort of comedic relief in the shitty hand I was dealt. Well, more like shitty report card, that is.

After all, this isn’t a sad story about my issues.

Fuck ‘em!

I’ve dealt with them, and what’s more, I’ve come to accept them.

Even if my old man can’t seem to. And even if it my shit looks tragic, (you’re about to see and make that judgement for yourself), my life is far from a tragedy. Look around, I’m blessed as shit. I’ve got air in my lungs, a place to call home most would kill to be able to say the same, and what’s more, my momma loves me just the way I am. That’s right! Momma’s boy right here, and I’m proud as shit to say it because she’s the best thing in my life so far. And that’s the positive outlook I’ve vowed to keep, even if walking through the door, with this shitty F in hand, does cause The General to typically come out swinging.

“Did you enjoy your day, Master Brettly,” Wadsworth says as I shove the piece of paper in my pocket and pull my backpack up higher on my shoulder.

Taking a step towards him, I try my hardest to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut about my report card, and stay in some sort of light where my father’s darkness can’t touch me, not yet any ways.

“Splendid, Wadsworth! Just grand!” I mock our butler, calling him a nickname that he hates and watching as he tries to hide a roll of his eyes.

I step forward and meet him in the middle of our circular driveway just before the gates close behind me. The piece of paper in my pocket threatens to ignite as I give it a momentary thought and feel my heart sink once more knowing the abuse that’s soon to come over something I just couldn’t control and something I’m not ready to face.

Abuse?

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