The Challenge

"You bought me a stereo for my car?"

I whistled, strolling down the sidewalk as the cool wind blew past me. The sun had set a long time ago and after an intense session of videogames with Mike, I had decided it was best if I headed home. I hummed a tune under my breath, nearly skipping down the street with a large smile on my face. I felt calm and relaxed, as if a huge weight was lifted off my back.
A weight specifically named Brad.

I kicked a rock, watching as it rolled down the sidewalk until it disappeared down the drain. I turned the corner, stepping onto my block, when an all too familiar shouting filled the calm air.

"This is so like you Dave! Always running away!" my mom shouted from the doorway of our house to my dad who was stomping his way down the gravel driveway.

He whirled around to face her, his face bright red and angry. "Yeah! Well god knows why I even stayed this long!" he shouted back, before throwing open the car door.

He slammed the door shut, shaking everything around it. My mom buried her face in her hands, shaking her head before turning around and walking back into the house. I stood frozen watching the scene unfold in front of me; a scene that I've seen far too many times. The same angry words being thrown at each other. The same neighbors who watched from their windows shaking their heads at this poor dysfunctional family. This same headlights pulling out of the driveway only to return hours later, drunk and incoherent.

The morning after was even worse. They would walk past each other pretending that the night before never happened. Always pretending that they were okay because neither of them wanted to talk. Neither of them wanted to even acknowledge the screaming or the cracks in their relationship. They were like sharks; constantly moving and never looking back at the damage they left behind.

After the headlights had disappeared down the street, I followed my mom into the house, letting my hand linger on the doorknob before pushing it open. I wondered what it was this time. Maybe he had left a towel on the floor after he had taken a shower. Maybe she had forgotten to pick up milk on her way home. Or maybe it was the most common and most plausible fight. Me.

I followed the light to the kitchen where my mom sat hunched over the countertop, her head in her hands. I cleared my throat, letting her know that I was here. She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

"Oh honey! I-I...did you...when-"

"It's okay mom. I saw the whole thing." I didn't move from where I stood in the doorway and she didn't move from where she sat.

"Oh dear. I'm so sorry," she rushed to say. "It's just that-"

I shook my head, interrupting her. "No. I don't need to know what it was. Just...just please tell me you love him," I nearly begged.

"Dustin, of course I love him," she said. "It's just-"

I shook my head again. "That's all I need to know then."

She smiled, walking towards me and pulling me down in a hug. I leaned down, at 17 I was still so much taller than my mom, and embraced her.

"Thank you," she whispered in my ear.

I nodded my head before pulling away and walking up to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me and kicked of my shoes in random directions. I flung myself on my bed, sighing as the pillows pressed against my face. Just as I got comfortable, I heard the unfortunate sound of my ringtone filling the room. I groaned, pulling my phone from my pocket and pressing it against my ear.

"Hello," I droned, fully away that I sounded like a zombie at this point.

"Dustin," Lilly whispered in a fragile and small voice. "I-I need you."