He intercepted a weak pass and drove it straight up through the blue line. A Cardinal defender dove at him in a last-ditch effort to stop him. But Adam Banks was unbeatable. He was stubborn and childish, but so goddamn unbeatable.
☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆
𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊 on my bedroom door. That was the last peaceful moment of the night.
My mom slowly entered and sat at the edge of my bed. She ran a hand threw my hair and I thought that maybe we could get through a civil conversation. But it was impossible the second she uttered those sharp words.
"Your father called."
I looked up from my book.
"I think it's time to call him back, honey."
"I'm not talking to him."
"Maeve, it's important to have a relationship with your dad."
"Says who? You?"
"Yes, says me. Now, I know you don't really give a crap about what I have to say, but all you have to do is push a few buttons. It really can't be that hard."
"You don't call him."
"That's different."
"How is it any different?"
"He's your father."
I rolled my eyes and picked my book back off of my lap.
"Do you enjoy being difficult?" She asked me.
"Depends on the occasion."
She exhaled loudly--her usual argument piece--and walked to my door. She turned back to face me. "Why won't you just cooperate with me, Maeve?"
I stared at her. "Why is everything always my fault? I don't cooperate with you, I don't talk to dad, I don't try to be a good daughter--did it ever cross your mind that maybe I get this from you?"
"You're so much like your father."
"This is the first time he's called in 2 months. I don't give a shit about him and I'm sick of both of you pretending like he gives a shit about me! Stop protecting him. He left."
"You know, I am really appreciating your optimism on this, Maeve. Go ahead, why don't you say all your mean things?"
"I think you're pushing me to talk to him because you're too weak to do it yourself."
She walked away. Like she always does.
☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 I wanted to be was in that house. I'd travel the entire world if it meant just getting a break. I raced to put on a heavy sweatshirt and thick shocks. I threw on my boots and mittens as I bolted out the front door. I didn't know where I was going until I had stopped running entirely.
The pond. Nobody skated on it anymore. Snow collected inch by inch on the hard ice until you could barely see the difference between the frozen water and the covered grass surrounding it. I found myself sitting on a nearby bench that I was no stranger to.
It could have been 20 seconds or 20 hours--I don't know. I just sat there and for the first time in what felt like forever, I cried. I really cried. Each sob came from my gut as I held my face in my hands. I let the world crash down onto me and all the walls I had built out of paper trying to keep it up. I let my dad break me. I let my mom break me. I broke myself.
⁰⁹ | Charlie Conway asks the question
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