When I Was Alphie

Chapter Six / Grown Up

TW: lewd text messages

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Chapter Five / Grown up

"You're both being impossible. This is about what's best for Alphie, not you."

Slouching over my knees, I inspect my toes. I painted them teal last week and shortly after, stubbed my left big toe, which resulted in a bruise beneath the nail. My feet are ugly, no matter what, because they're narrow and knobby. I curl my toes into the carpeted stair below my feet, straining to listen from my hiding space in the stairwell.

"Alphie is doing excellent," my mother's voice raises slightly, sounding hurt. "He is performing well academically and socially."

"He's been seeing the Kumar boy," my father pipes up. "If he wasn't doing well, he wouldn't be pursuing a relationship. The Kumars are wonderful people. Did you know that Mr. Kumar owns a start-up tech company that has become extremely successful? Regardless, we're happy that Alphie is blossoming into the person he's meant to be."

In the shadows, I inspect my calves; there's another bruise on my pale skin. I think that I need to start taking iron tablets again, because I've been bruising like a peach. My ass has two painful handprints that have risen to the surface of my skin within twenty-four hours. I took a picture and thought, slut, then hid it in my secret album on my phone.

"He's done school online before, the last time he was having issues." James's voice is teetering on rage. "The school would be understanding if changed to online for a few weeks if his mental health is on the line. Let him come to Boston with me, please."

"You're being melodramatic," my mother says. This is her favorite word to use whenever I have problems, melodramatic, a single word that can undermine how I feel within seconds. "You know how Alphie is. Nathaniel, tell James how Alphie is."

My father sighs deeply; I can picture the way he's probably adjusting himself from where he sinks into the sofa. He's a very hefty person and he spends a lot of time sighing, catching his breath, and rubbing his hand over his stomach while he digests dinner. "Alphie is overly sensitive. Frankly, I think he needs more attention, which I am partially at fault for not giving him as we're approaching election season and my work hours have become more demanding."

"I can give him attention!" James explodes. "Laura and I love Alphie."

"Quiet down," my father says crossly. "What I am trying to explain to you is that Alphie has been fine until this weekend when he had that...?"

"Panic attack," James mutters. "Grandma called him Christopher."

"Right." My father grunts an affirmation. "Panic attack. I'm sure it's because you're here now, and he hasn't seen you in a while. It's a cry for attention, from you."

"You're wrong."

"James," my mother chides. "I think we'd know."

"This is about local politics, isn't it?" James's voice becomes sharp with accusation. "You don't want anyone to find out if Alphie leaves town with me. Do you really care so much about the family reputation that you won't consider letting me help him?"

"This is not about that at all!" My father insists. "I do not like these unfounded accusations, James. It would be detrimental socially and academically to take Alphie out of school his senior year, even for a short period of time."

"Jesus!" James bursts. "What kind of parents are you?"

"Language!" My mother sounds shocked. "We were all having such a lovely evening together."