Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 16 | Your Heart's Like, Freaking Out

“Sawyer, what are you doing here?” He demands and with an annoyed sigh, I turn around and see that he’s spun around on the bar stool and is now facing me with a grimace.

“I live here,” I snarkily remind him, crossing my arms across my chest because that’s just what I do when I’m upset or annoyed. “What are you doing here, Tom?” I query back.

“I live here,” Tom mimics me, which I think is supposed to be funny but it really isn’t. It’s just annoying. “What I meant was, what are you doing out of the psych ward?” He asks.

“I was released,” I explain, walking over to the breadbox and taking two slices of bread out, popping them down in the toast. If I have to talk to him, I might as well be eating too.

“By who?” He demands to know, raising his eyebrows in question and raising his mug (which is most likely full of Vodka or Hennessey or something) to his mouth, taking a sip.

“Dr. Fontana,” I reply, going over to the refrigerator and pulling the jelly out along with the butter while I wait for my toast to pop.

“Who?” Tom repeats as if he didn’t understand me. Maybe he didn’t though—I’m pretty sure alcoholics can’t process normally.

“Dr. Fontana,” I reply, enunciating in a really exaggerated and dramatic way. “He’s my psychiatrist,” I inform Tom then, sighing.

“Psychiatrist?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything that I say? Because if so, this conversation is incredibly redundant,” I murmur in reply.

“And what makes your psychiatrist think that he has any kind of rights to make that decision? I am your father- it was my choice.”

“Tom, you haven’t been in my life for six whole years,” I remind him. “You can’t just come back and try to run my life,” I tell him.

“I get that you don’t like me Sawyer and that’s okay because the feeling is mutual,” He says, taking another sip of his drink. “But I’m your father and you’re going to respect me.”

I’m about to reply but before I can, Beckett walks into the room with a sleepy look on his face, looking like he just rolled out of bed, which I assume he did. I really don’t want to fight with his dad in front of him because I know that he and Tom has a super good relationship and Beckett’s really excited about him finally getting out of prison. That because Tom didn’t terrorize him and call him horrible names like he did and still does to me though, so it makes sense. My toast pops up out of the toaster, so instead of replying back to Tom’s stupid authoritarian comment, I just walk over to the toaster and grab my toast out of it, dropping the pieces on a plate before spreading jelly over both slices of bread.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Beckett greets with a yawn, walking over to the refrigerator and taking the orange juice out, taking a swig straight from it.

“I was just asking Sawyer what her plans for New Year’s Eve are now that she’s apparently out of the psychiatric ward,” Tom evasively lies to Beckett then.

“Right,” I respond, deciding to just play along so that I can go ahead and inform both of them that I’m going to Graham’s party tonight. “I’m going to a party.”

“What? Whose party?” Beckett demands in his oh-so-annoying big brotherly way.

“Graham’s,” I state simply before pouring myself a glass of orange juice, about to go back to my room.

“Graham? Who is Graham?” Tom wonders, looking at me with a questioning look.

“Graham’s her boyfriend,” Beckett grumbles. “Even though she’s way too young to have one,” He adds.