Chapter Fourteen

"Where the fuck did you go?" Dad demanded as I walked up to him.  I snapped back into my little world and stared at him for a moment; surprised how I got back to him.  The doctor behind him stared at me for a moment, then my father, rolled his eyes and left.  In that order.

            "On a walk," I replied.  I didn't need to tell him, he'd just give me a rant that I just really didn't need... or want in that matter.  He sighed in discontent; but when was he ever content?  The doctor finally disappeared and my father and I were left alone.  My father looked at me and then grabbed my arm, and started to tug me away.

            When I yelped, my father dropped my arm and stared in concern.  I gave him a dirty look, "I just got stitched up again; this is the fucking last time I'm coming in the hospital."

            He gave me a look and then sighed, "Jesus, John, I wish you weren't such a handful."

            "What?" I demanded.

            He rolled his eyes; much like the doctor and then marched out of the entrance; less concerned than he was a second ago.  He had bigger mood swings than the Step Monster.  I followed him a second after it appeared he wasn't going to wait for me.  He'd probably drive away from me.  I raced after him and sped walked next to him.

            "Whoa, slow down, dude," I ordered.

            "Don't call me dude, John, I'm your father," he told me and ignored my snort.

            "Well, father's act a bit more concerned in these types of situations," I claimed.

            He remained quiet until we got to the parking lot, "John, listen to me; you're not longer in high school, you have to apply to college and these type of things will be on the record; they won't look good in your record."

            "That's all you care about; me getting to college and out of your life," I said and then smiled ironically, "Surprise."

            "That's not why and you know.  Stop acting like a child and start growing up," he ordered.

            I blinked, "I'm grown!  I'm trying my best in this piece of shit life!"

            "Piece of shit?" he turned around and looked at me, "You live in a palace, you went to a private high school, you can go to any college you want in this fucking country.  You are so much better off than so many kids."

            "So; everything is shiny clean on my record; it doesn't mean I have personal problems, Dad," I replied.  He rolled his eyes and went to the car.  He unlocked it, entered, turned on the engine, and reversed the car without me in it.  He stopped by me, lowered the window, and stared.

            "Stop pouting and get in the car," he told me.

            I waited a moment and got in the car.  I had no other way home except the bus; I don't do buses.  Ever taken a New York bus?  If you have, you understand why I'd rather take a car.  I buckled my seatbelt as Dad rolled the window up and drove.  We stayed in the silence.

            "Why is your life bad?  Just tell me that much," my father said.

            "Why should I?"

            "I'm your father, that's why."

            I was quiet and sighed, "I thought it was because you care."

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