August 24th- Book One in the May 3rd series

Chapter 67--The mac and cheese has been abandoned on the table.

"I could do something about it and you know it. And bullshit. You didn't take care of yourself at school before I came along, so why would you after I left?"

I just wanted to give him a cookie and make him smile.

What did I do wrong here?

Was it the cookie?

I thought it was a damn good cookie.

"I did. I always have. You can't do anything about it and you never should have. Don't worry about it."

"You saying don't worry about it makes me think there's something I need to be worrying about!"

"Then what am I supposed to say? If you want the opposite, then I'll just say worry a lot! And then you won't worry...? Is that how this works?"

"No. That's not what I meant. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay! I care about you."

"Why's it matter? It's school. It always has been and always will be the way it is."

"It shouldn't be. And if you don't tell me when there's a problem, I can't help you!"

He's always so set on me being honest with him, then he pulls shit like this.

He's my good thing. I can't lose him because he refuses to be honest with me.

Because he's afraid I'll worry.....

That I'lll kill myself...

"There's problems. There. I told you."

"What kind of problems?" I press.

If it's any of them...

Rage fills me and I grip the wheel tighter, parking in front of the house.

I look over at him.

His face is unreadable, and he's staring at the cookie.

"People are mean. They think it's easier to be mean when you're not around. They like reminding me how easy it is and how you are never going to be able to stop them. But it doesn't matter, because I don't need you to."

"Someone has to!"

"I have everything under control. I'm not weak and useless, okay?"

He kind of is when it comes to this sort of thing....

"I didn't say you were." I say, keeping my voice even."

"Everyone says I am. And you think it, since you think you have to do something so someone does something."

...No.

"I mean... You don't take care of yourself! So I have to! I didn't say you were weak or useless!"

Shit...

My head pounds...

My chest constricts, but...

I take a breath and try to relax.

Just get through this, then you can play your guitar and...

"I take care of myself when I have to. I'm not worried about anything else. You shouldn't be, either. Stop yelling at me."

I breathe for a moment and lower my voice, not realizing I was doing something he saw as yelling. "Sorry. And you don't do a very good job of it. Or you think more is okay than it actually is. Your standard for okay is pretty shit."

"I know what I can handle." He mumbles.

"I don't think you do."

"I do. I know I can handle people being mean. I have basic survival skills. I-I know I can't handle when you start yelling, though."