We Know Better

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On Friday, I tell my mother that I am going shopping with Mads and her family much to her displeasure. She insists that I go tell my father. We both know that she wants him to say no, but he won't. Instead, he'll find a way to hold it over my head and throw it back in my face later. It's moments like these when I feel anger flair at my mother for putting and keeping me in these shitty situations.

In the garage, my father is smoking with my uncle and older cousin. I keep my hands clasped because I know they'll shake. The cigarette smoke makes my throat tight as I approach my father. He looks up at me and at least he is not scowling. I know he is in a good mood because we have company, but that just means he is more likely to show off so that he can assert his dominance and masculinity. He grins around his cigarette at me.

"What's going on Pooh?" He greets me.

"Good morning Papa, I just wanted to let you know I'm going with Mads and her family while they shop."

"You're trying to leave us?" He asks and I pray that he doesn't turn this into an ordeal. "What's going on with your hair?" He switches the subject but it's not much better. I feel heat in my face as he judges me out loud in front of my uncle and cousin.

"It's just in a ponytail," I do my best to sound unaffected and it comes out a little rude.

"Well yeah but it's a big puff ball. Why don't you straighten it anymore?"

My stomach turns uncomfortably, "I just don't feel like it," I tell him. I do not bother trying to explain that it is damaging my hair and that after every time I do I feel disgusting when I look at myself when it's natural. Something tells me that that isn't how people are supposed to feel about their authentic selves.

"Don't get lazy on me," he frowns, but drops it. "Well, do you have any money?"

There it is. He wants to make sure that my uncle and cousin know that we're doing well and that he is taking care of us. I do my best to not roll my eyes. "No, but I wasn't planning doing any shopping," I tell him hoping he will let this drop too.

"You need to stop acting like we ain't got money, girl," he reprimands and I feel the bitterness fill my mouth. That is not what he is saying when he is yelling at me about how much of a burden I am or how expensive it will be for me to go to college. He is digging into his pocket and all I want to do it jet out of this stifling garage.

"It's really okay," I make the mistake of saying.

He shoots me a glare as he pulls cash out of his pocket and pulls a some twenties from the wad, "take some damn money. You know what I've told you about going out with no money."

I stay quiet as I nod and take the money. It feels heavy in my pocket as I think about how he will find a way to hold this over my head too. I thank him quickly and kiss his cheek goodbye. With a wave to my uncle and cousin, I flit back into the house to my mother. She is obviously unhappy that I am leaving, but she cannot say anything else. I kiss her goodbye and set off in search of my sister to say goodbye as well. When I find her and tell her where I am going and who I am actually going with, she wiggles her eyebrows at me, but does not warn me again.

As I pull up to his house, I see his brother and him outside leaning against his car. A big grin graces his face as I make my way up the driveway to him. He pushes off of the vehicle and closes the last few steps to me in order to wrap me in a hug. I am acutely aware that his brother is right there looking at us. I keep my face buried against Brendon's chest so that his brother cannot see how fulfilling it feels to have his arms around me. Breathing him in relaxes my body. He calms me down.