Page 45 of Attractive Forces
Dad keeps on digging for a while. “So, are you going to tell me why you didn’t come home last night?” he asks finally.
“I crashed at a friend’s place.”
“A friend’s place?” My father’s voice is skeptical.
“Yes.”
“I thought we discussed making good decisions.”
I clear my throat. “It wasn’t like that.”
But I don’t want to go into details about why I ended up at Jake’s house because I know my father will judge Jake for being drunk. And that’s not fair to Jake.
“Besides, you told me I could make my own decisions,” I add.
“Yes. I did.”
There’s another silence interrupted only by the noise of metal slicing through dirt.
“Have you had a chance to read the passage in the Bible I talked about? Lot’s story in Genesis?” Dad asks.
“No. I haven’t looked at it yet, sorry.”
“It’s worth a read.” His gaze remains fixed on the ground, but I can’t help feeling like I’ve disappointed him.
My body’s almost falling apart. A night sleeping on Jake’s floor. Hard rugby practice. And now I’m digging through clumps of hard dirt.
Unfortunately, my mind is not in a much better state than my body.
My father thinks I slept with Jennifer. Brewer’s curious as to why I didn’t.
Jake’s giving me looks I can’t interpret.
I can’t go on like this. I need to do something.
13
Jake
I spend the rest of Sunday in a blurry headache haze, trying to hide my hungover state from my mother when she arrives home from her shift.
Yeah, never getting drunk again. I can’t really believe I did that last night.
I didn’t realize how on edge I was. That’s the thing that scares me the most.
My dad, the situation with Aaron, the pressure to get good marks. Add in my feelings for Logan, and it was enough to send me toppling over a cliff when I didn’t even realize I was standing on the edge.
On Sunday afternoon, I wander into the living room to find Aaron sprawled out on the couch watching TV.
“Whatcha watching?” I ask.
“Just some shit,” he mutters.
I sit on the other end of the couch. It’s a plush leather couch with extra cushioning, so sitting down on it is the comfort equivalent of taking a hot bath.
When we first arrived, it looked so out of place in our crappy rental. But now it’s got scuff marks all over it because neither Aaron nor I take off our shoes like we’re supposed to, and it’s no longer maintained with the right leather wax like it was in Wellington. Pretty soon, it’ll look shabby enough to blend in with the rest of the house.
Aaron and I watch TV together, and for a few minutes, it’s like old times. If I squint to blur out the details of the room, I could pretend we’re in our old house watching TV after school like we used to before Dad would come out of his office and make us switch it off to do something more productive.
