Page 78 of Mr. Frosty Pants
“You think I don’t know this boy? Iwasthis boy. Or could have been.” Mr. Stevens’s voice shook with anger. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked to climb up out of the poverty I was born into? And now you’re asking me to just watch you turn around and climb into bed with it? No. Absolutely not.”
“Joel isn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter what you think he is or isn’t. What matters is I hold the purse strings to your future. Your tuition? Your apartment? Wharton? All of that is up to me. My money. My way.”
“Joel isn’t up for negotiation,” Casey said sharply. “I love him.”
“Then un-love him. Because this isn’t happening, Casey. We’ve worked too hard to get where we are as a family for me to watch you get involved with someone who doesn’t have any kind of future in this world. Take my word for it: he’ll be on dope before the end of the year, if he isn’t already. Like my brother Donny. Like my cousin Jon in Pikeville. People like that are all the same.”
“People likewhat?”
“People like Joel Vreeland.”
“What the actual hell, Dad? Joel isn’t on heroin, and he’s not like Donny or Jon at all. Why are you being such an asshole? It’s Christmas. Can’t you just love me for who I am and rejoice in what makes me happy? For once?”
“Whyhim? What was wrong with Theo? You should have chased after that boy and begged him to stay with you. He cared about you! And now you’ll never do better than him. Walker Ronson isn’t even close to his league. But no. Instead of doing the smart thing, you let Theo go, so you can rub willies with riffraff.”
Casey’s voice rattled with rage. “Joel is a business owner and an author. He’s smart and funny, and I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember.”
“So long as you’re with him, you won’t have my support, financial or otherwise. I scrambled my way up, and I won’t have you grabbing my ankles to pull me back down. Even having him here tonight was an embarrassment. After we told everyone about Theo last year? How do we explain this step down for you? It’s humiliating.”
“Dad, you need to think very carefully about what you’re saying.”
“No, you need to think. That therapist we pay for? Done. That school? Finished. Degree or no degree.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m serious as a heart attack. If you’re with Joel Vreeland, or someone like him, I won’t provide you with a single dime. Not now. Not ever.”
The light footsteps behind him drew Joel to attention. Courtney’s arm slipped around his waist.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Neither one of them would want you to hear this.”
“Too late.”
“Joel,” she said softly when he tugged free of her and went back into the house.
The steam on the windows and laughter bouncing off the walls along with the ceaseless guitar carols smothered him. He pushed through the room, bumping into people, searching for the place Casey’s mother had taken his coat. Finally finding a pile of them on a counter in a small room off the kitchen, he grabbed his and checked the pockets for his keys. Then he was out the front door with the frigid air slapping his face. The Chevy’s seat was cold on his ass, but the steering wheel took him where he needed to go.
The credit card he’d used too much lately was put to good use again. At the gas station he filled his tank before ducking inside for some cigarettes and other essentials for the upcoming night and morning.
His newly lit cigarette tasted like misery as he pulled the heat into his lungs and exhaled it out the open window while he drove aimlessly down dark country roads with Jonathan Stevens’s threats rattling around between his ears.
He needed to go somewhere safe. Somewhere he knew he was cared for. He barked out a laugh. That sure as hell wasn’t with his own family. Hearing Casey’s dad’s threats reminded him of his own father’s abuse, and, fuck, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. He’d put up with that kind of thing for way too long. He was a grown man and he was done with begging to be loved. He’d never try to convince his father—any father—to love him again. And speaking of love, he needed to forget about loving Casey Stevens. It’d been stupid to think he could have him for even a little while. He pressed on the gas, the night speeding away behind him. He’d always known forever was off the table.
Chapter Twenty-One
Casey groaned infrustration as he pulled into the Vreeland’s parking lot and was forced to admit Joel’s Chevy wasn’t there either. He’d already been to the trailer, and he had no idea where else to look.
He checked his phone again, but there were no missed calls and no new texts from Joel. He scrolled through the fifteen texts he’d sent in the last hour and a half, all some rendition of the same thing:Joel, I’m so sorry you overheard any of that. Let’s talk.
There were some that were more pleading, some that went on about his father being an asshole, and some that were just:Are you okay? Please call me.But Joel hadn’t responded, and Casey completely understood why.
What would he have done back when he was with Theo if he’d ever overheard Theo’s parents saying things like that about him? He’d have been out of there faster than a New York minute. Just imagining it made his stomach curdle with humiliation. He couldn’t blame Joel for doing the same.
He parked in the Vreeland’s lot to brainstorm. What should he do? Where would Joel go? He pulled out his phone again and texted RJ.
Hey, man. What’s Becca’s number?
