Hero

RODRIGUEZ

               There was a sudden knock at the door. I didn't want to expect what I thought I should, but I opened it to see what I was supposed to expect. Adrian standing there with a police officer. I crossed my arms.

               "What'd you do this time?" I asked casually. "And where's Antonio?"

               "I got the kid to school like you asked–"

               "He said he was taking a shortcut," the police officer chimed in, "And was caught jumping fences, rooves, and crossing private property, all with a child on his back," the officer chuckled sarcastically. "You'd better discipline your kid better, or he won't be going to school, he'll be going to jail."

               "I understand," I said. He pushed Adrian inside, and I slammed the door on him in return.

               "I don't know what that guy's deal is," Adrian said, "But I got Tony to school like you asked. You never said how I had to get him there, so I got him there as quickly as possible."

               "Adrian, that's not why I'm mad at you," I told him, "For four years, you've been this way, and for four years, you haven't changed. Remember the first time you got in trouble with the police? You were thirteen. You got in trouble for skipping school and poaching with your friends. When the police caught you and dragged you home for the first time, you looked terrified. I will never forget that look on your face. You said that you would never do it again, but it happened over and over again until, eventually, you got used to it. What was it last time?" I thought for a second. "You vandalized a huge mansion with spray paint right outside Bendwood Park."

               "I don't get how all these police officers in America are really on their guard here. When I lived in Russia, my other friends and I could do anything and not get caught," he explained.

               "I don't believe that," I chuckled.

               "It's true," he argued, "Me and my friends–"

               "You, Adrian," I pointed at him, "You did illegal things in Russia without getting caught."

               "What are you trying to prove?"

               "That you don't have friends," I crossed my arms. Adrian opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, and I nodded as if to say, "Thought so."

               "Well," Adrian stuttered, trying to think of a comeback, "Why are America and Russia so different?"

               "Because America and Russia are two very different continents and have very different laws," I said, "Anyways, I will not leave you unpunished. You're restricted from all your devices for a week. You'll be grounded for that long, too."

               "By 'all my devices,' you mean my phone, right?" he asked.

               "Correct," I held out my hand. "Phone. Give it up." He pointed at me angrily.

               "You can't tell me what to do, old man! What will happen if I go missing? Or if I get kidnapped? What will you do then, old man?" I stared at him very seriously.

               "Then, I will go find you." He grumbled as he handed his phone to me.

               "Where's Sam?" he mumbled, still angry.

               "She's not here," I answered, "She had an early shift, so she left right when you did." He walked up the stairs, then stopped short. He turned his head toward me and said,

               "I hate you. I hate everything about you."

               I didn't get him. What did he have against me?