The Shining Star In My Dark Sky

CHAPTER 18: THE TORN PUNCHING BAG

CHAPTER 18: The Torn Punching Bag

“I said, what are you doing here?” Brent ­­­­­repeated, his voice cold; there’s resentment.

“Is it forbidden to visit my children?” the man said. Oh, he’s probably Brent and Bri’s father. I went down the stairs carefully and quietly so their conversation will not be interrupted. I looked around the living room but Bri’s not there. For a second, I panicked. Where is she? I rushed to the kitchen, still trying my best to sneak quietly.

I found Bri, scooping a Nutella with her spoon and she licks the spoon. The fridge is open and she’s nonchalantly standing right in front of its glowing light. Her face is smeared with some Nutella. “Hey, little Bri. What are you doing here?” I kneeled down so I am as tall as her.

“Hi Paigy, Brent’s got a visitor so he told me to stay here. I’m hungry,” she replied innocently. She’s so cute. Her messy hair makes her even cuter.

“Do you want me to make you a sandwich?” I offered her and her face lit up, beaming a toothy smile at me. I searched for the ingredients around the kitchen and I’m glad Bri helped me searching.

“Do you know who the visitor is?” I asked Bri. Does she know? If I compute it, their dad left almost three years ago so that means she was two then. I don’t think she remembers.

She shook her head. “He’s scary,” she pouted. I get a plate and served her the sandwich. Good thing I don’t have to cook anything for this sandwich. Bri’s tone implies that she’s not familiar with her father. “Brent’s angry,” she added.

“Go away! We don’t need you,” Brent demanded angrily. I looked at Bri, fear evident in her face but she chooses more to indulge with her sandwich than dealing with adults. She’s a strong kid. “We don’t need your dirty money! We managed to live without you.” Brent’s voice has a tint of hurt but more of resentment.

“I’ll make sure you’ll come back to me kid. And say hi to your pretty girlfriend.” Brent’s dad said. Shit, he saw me? I thought my ninja skills are excellent.

“Stay away from us, son of a bitch!” and Brent closed the door. Actually he slammed it hard.

“Bri, I’ll just talk to your brother. Is it okay if you stay here?” I ask her.

“Sandwiches!” She said happily so I put the rest of the sandwiches I made within her reach. I ruffled her hair and she beamed me her toothy smile once more before I made my way to the living area and Brent is seated on the couch.

I sat down beside him, carefully assessing him. His blue eyes turned several shades darker. He’s resting his elbows on his knees. His chiseled jaw clenched and his fists clamped together, his knuckles turning white. For a moment, I didn’t feel terrified when I saw him in anger now. I admit it, before I really feared him especially when he caused havoc in the school hallway. I slowly held his hands. His face softened but I can see that the anger is still there. I was glad he didn’t pull his hands away.

Since I suck at consoling people, I just hugged him—like what I did when he confessed about his mom dying up until Peyton’s death. We stayed like that for I don’t know how long, maybe 20 minutes. But that’s the point, I can’t feel the time running when I’m with Brent. It’s better than I give him my suck-ish advice.

“He was a perfect father,” Brent started, his breath fanning my neck. I’m still hugging him and I tried pulling away earlier but he just tightened his arms around me. He didn’t want to let go. “I thought that I had the perfect parents. They obviously loved each other. But when mom got diagnosed with cancer and we started to lose all the savings we had, he turned into an alcoholic and violent bastard.” He stopped. I don’t know if I’m supposed to console him at this point. I don’t know what to say, damn it.