Are You Sure I'm Not A Villain?

20

Casey knocked on the wall next to his dad's head, trying to get his attention. His dad looked up and smiled when he recognized Casey. He reached for his phone and turned off the music.

"Casey," Mr. Jones greeted. "You are early, just in time for helping me with dinner!"

Casey shrugged. He wasn't planning on doing the copious amount of homework that awaited him anyway. Besides, helping his dad with dinner would probably lessen the guilt of missing family dinner a few days ago. Marie detached from Caey's leg and ran to who-knows-where. Casey watched her little form disappear and turned back to face his dad, taking off his backpack and plopping it on the ground just outside the kitchen.

"Hey, pops," he said. He grabbed some pieces of garlic bread from the freezer and placed them in an already pre-heated oven. He set the timer for twenty minutes. A lull in work happened while Mr. Jones waited for the pasta water to boil. Casey lead against the counter and looked at his dad.

There were some very obvious similarities between Casey and his father. Casey had his straight black hair, brown eyes, and height. Casey was only a few inches taller than his father, towering at over six feet tall. A lot of people always came up to him and were surprised that he played hockey and not basketball. Their only difference was their skin tone. Marie was very tan like their dad while Casey was a ghostly pale. Marie looked more like their mother with her wavy brown hair and light brown eyes, a mirror image one could say, although Marie was only ten years old.

Casey was reminded of the memories shared with their mom nad dad. When their dad first taught them how to ice skate, their mom attending his first hockey game because his dad was at work, their mom...

Casey missed her.

"Son," Mr. Hones said, his voice shaking Casey out of his stupor. "I'm worried about you."

"Pops," Casey said in a joking tone. "Nothin' is wrong with me. Ya shouldn' be worried."

"But there is, Casey," his dad argued. "You are never home anymore, you're always late, you're sneaking out at night, and you missed family dinner! You never miss family dinner. You need to tell me what's going on, Casey."

"Nothin'!" Casey exclaimed. "I'm only a few years from graduating, Dad. I should be able to hang out with people an' make ma own decisions for once in ma life."

Casey's dad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his thick black framed glasses up onto his forehead. "There is a reason why seventeen isn't a legal adult. You are still under my roof–"

"Your roof?" Casey shot back. "Ya botha me abou' neva bein' here and ya go on an' talk abou' how this is your roof? You're neva home! I'm the one parentin' Marie!"

"Casey, please relax. I'm sorry, that didn't come out how I wanted it to. Can we just take a breath and talk this over?"

Casey rolled his eyes but made no movement to leave. His dad sighed and poured the raw pasta into the pot of boiling water.

"You mentioned that you hang out with people," Mr. Jones said. "Are they your teammates or new people that you've met?"

"Other people," Casey said shortly. "The guys on my team 're weird."

"Oh? What are their names?"

"My teammates?"

"No, your other friends," Casey's dad said, stirring the marinara sauce in the pot next to the noodles. Casey was glad his dad wasn't facing him as he felt his face heat up at the thought of Kai. He then felt anger remembering their last encounter when the turtles were spying on them. Sure, the turtles were Casey's friends, but do friends try to control other friends' lives?

"Umm," Casey said. "There're four brothers, Donnie, Leo, Raph, and Mikey. They're homeschooled but we hang at their old man's place. There's another boy in most of ma classes, Kai, we started hangin' out recently."

"That sounds fun," Casey's dad said. He held up the wooden spoon to his mouth and blew on the red sauce that was on it. He hesitantly put it into his mouth, humming happily to himself.

"It is," Casey said. He was trying to stay mad at his dad, but it was beginning to prove difficult. The more he talked, the more he felt his anger dissipate. "We went ice skating the other night because he challenged me thinking that he was better than me. Turns out, he didn' know how to skate in th' firs' place."

"I thought the rink was closed at night," Mr. Jones said.

Casey didn't like to think before he spoke. He scratched the back of his neck and quickly came up with a lie. "Well, ya know. I told the coach abou' it an' he gave the keys to the rink."

Mr. Jones did not look amused as he turned back to the stove with a simple, "Hm" as his answer.

(Casey's sister and father are unnamed so just bear with me. I just chose names that seemed most likely/the names i wanted to name them. Also his mother is never mentioned so Imma assume she just like died or whatever. And you can't do anything about it... unless you have the actual stories and names behind the rest of the Jones family.

if y'all do, please comment.)

sorry this one is a little shorter, I wasn't sure how to end it without being like so fucking long

....... that's what she said