Because You're Different ✔

65. Volunteer

Sam

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Every time my foot came in contact with the leg of the chair, mom sent me a warning glance. She didn't make much of an impact. Seemed like she'd had more Botox shots in those eleven months I hadn't seen them: she couldn't even raise her eyebrows anymore. Made her look like a balloon figure trying to pull a face. I hoped she would pop.

"Here's — here's another one," dad said, grasping for a piece of stink cheese with his fat fingers. If he didn't stop eating in the next year, he would explode too. He was halfway being drunk, having chugged back four beers, and that meant he wasn't going to shut up soon. I used to like that when I was a kid, but now I preferred him quiet and sober. The shithead thought he was funny. "How did it go again? Was something with Google and women... Oh yeah, yeah, here it goes: is Google... male, or female?" His eyes were fixed on me, as if he was expecting me to give an answer to a crappy decade-old joke. "Well, hm?"

When I didn't budge, he looked at the others at the table, mom, and those asswipes Holly and Bradley Acker from two blocks away. Never ever had I regretted something so much as calling them this morning. Turned out they were up in San Francisco, doing god knows what — and of course, if their "sweet Sammy boy" was lonely, they could swing by for a day or two. Biggest mistake of my life.

My dad wasn't like June's dad. He didn't love me the way hers had loved her.

Why did I think it could be different? If he had a heart attack right now, would I even care?

"Female. Because — because it doesn't let you finish a sentence before making a suggestion!" Dad slammed his fist on the table, and the others let out exaggerated laughter, Mr. Ackley the loudest of all. Oh shit... What had I done? Nice idea. Stuck with the worst people in the whole freaking state of California.

Maybe this was just what I deserved. Shouldn't have called my brother a perv. Or a son of a bitch. Or any of those other things I said.

I mean, was it even really true? Yeah, he'd definitely been out of line. We could've talked about it though, or something like that. Who knows, they might've been so wasted they hadn't even realized what they were doing. He might've been thinking he was waking up next to Charlotte. The guy took care of me for most of my life. I supposed June loved him. I supposed he loved her. In a way that didn't involve kissing and boning. Shouldn't I have given him the benefit of the doubt?

If I had, I wouldn't be tortured by my mom's vapid laugh right now, or my dad trying to get up from the table and his beer gut making that difficult for him. "Excuse me, folks. Need to take a leak."

Shit man... Everyone knew you didn't say that sort of thing in front of guests. Hadn't grandma taught him any manners at all? I watched him with a grimace as he shuffled towards the hallway. Gross, I wasn't going to use the downstairs bathroom before the cleaning lady had a chance to mop the floor.

I went back to kicking the leg of my chair, flipping bottle caps with my thumb to distract me from the gossip about Melanie Wiley. Apparently, she'd divorced her second husband and was hooked on Xanax, and I couldn't care less.

Meanwhile, dad stayed gone so long that I began to wonder if he had a heart attack as well.

Until I realized I heard voices.

Immediately, my pulse sped up, and my breathing stocked.

Nathan.

He was home!

Nobody paid attention to me when I split, making a run for the living room so I could check on him from behind the door. I didn't want to face him without knowing what mood he was in, or what he was here for.