As I Am

Chapter Nine

           Dedicated to Defiancy_ cause she's just plain awesome and agrees that Pokemon is also awesome ;)

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             Nine

          Dad steals my roll of camera film without telling me. I was sure I still had a few pictures left, but when I wake up in the morning a few days later, now in my own bed, I reach for my camera. I try to snap a picture of a seagull sitting on my railing outside, looking at me with his head tilted through the glass. The black and white would make the whole scene look creepy compared to how neat it is right now, but when I press down on the button, it makes an unfamiliar click.

            So when I come downstairs this morning, I’m already in a worse mood than usual. And when I find my mother in the kitchen, standing there as she looks over a set of papers, I feel my annoyance come to a boil. I still have yet to confront her about what Evan told me. I’ve been debating it for days, hoping that she or my father had the decency to tell me. But so far, nothing has gone as planned.

            “What are those?” I ask as I lean against the doorframe. My arms are crossed over my baggy long-sleeved t-shirt and my voice is already in a tone.

            Mom’s back is to me and it tenses noticeable when she hears me. Slowly, she sets down the papers on the kitchen table and turns around, hiding them.

            “Just some research for my book,” she says. She smiles but her eyes are wary. She’s lying.

            “Let me see them?” I take a step forward, hold out my palm. Mom moves closer to the table and slides her hands behind her, holding the papers flat on the table as if a gust of wind might pick up and blow them directly into my hands.

            “It’s boring stuff, Bam.”

            I narrow my eyes at her and drop my hand. “You’re lying.

            “W-what?”

             “I know about the charges, Mom.”

            My mother is speechless. Her mouth hangs open and her eyes are wide, like she’s a deer caught in headlights. I wait a few minutes, waiting for the news to sink in and for her to defend herself, or lie and say she was going to tell, but she doesn’t say anything at all.

            I don’t sell Evan out because my parents like him.

            “Why would you do it without my consent, and then go to this length to hide it from me?” I sound more hurt than I intend to, but for once I’m glad it hasn’t come out in anger. “It was me who got hit. I deserve to make the decision to press charges or not, not you.”

            “Bama,” she says quietly. Her arms drop to her sides and her gaze meets mine. Her eyes are pleading. “You’re a child, honey. You don’t get to make these decisions. Your father and I did what we thought was best for you, and without doing what we did, we would just be letting that man get away with what happened. That’s not fair, is it?”