"Jessieeee, Evannnn. Come downstairs for family meeting!"
It's Sunday night, and I'm in my bedroom blasting music. "WHAT?!" I yell down.
"Family. Meeting." Mom repeats.
I spring up from laying on my bed, and run downstairs. "Where is he?!" I look around the room excited. "Is he in here?" I open the vaccuum closet and look in. Nothing but the heavy smell of dirt and some dust.
"Where's who, Jessie?"
"DAD!" I scream excited.
"We have to talk. Evan get down here." Mom yells up the stairs.
I slouch down on the couch, pulling a pilow towards my chest. "This isn't a real family meeting then." I mutter into the pillow.
Evan sits down on the ground and starts to crunches.
"What the hell are you doing? This si the living room, not the gym." I snap at him.
"Calm down, I need to focus on the football game." He repeats continuing doing the crunches.
"As if you'll get a scholarship, you're a lousy player. And it's not like you have anything to look for-"
"You two! Stop!" Mom says, rubbing the temples on her head. "I got a letter from your dad a few days ago."
"LET ME READ IT!" i scream eagerly. "Lemme seeee!" I whine.
"No, I'll just tell you what it says. Your dad is doing better, but he relapsed again. They want to keep him at the rehab centre for another month or two."
"Oh.." I say quietly.
"So he's going to miss my first game?" Evan asks. "Okay. That's fine. He can come later. No big deal."
"Yeah, just 2 ish months without him is all." Mom says staring at the ground. "We can make it. We've been okay already for a year without him."
"A year? You know damn well dad has been in and out of there for years." Images run through my head of me and dad playing on the front yard, and him just walking away. He'd come back the next day, or maybe even a week later. Or when the car came to take him to rehab and how mom stood on the front porch crying. "You act as if it's not even a big deal anymore. It's like you don't even care he's there! Like you don't even love him!" I add.
"Jessica!" Mom gasps.
"What?! It's true isnt it? And that's not all of it is it? He relapsed bad. Horrible. And he'll probably be gone for another year."
"Jessie, shut up." Evan says coldly.
"Oh whatever, Evan! You're acting like he isn't even your own father!" I scream, sanding up and throwing the pillow on the couch.
"He is to my own father, and I DO care!" He comes at me.
"As if! All you ever care about anymore is football! Football, football, football. You probably just thought that now dad was gone, he was out of your way and you could focus more on your football sholarship! Right?!" I yell into his face.
"Maybe I did! And what's wrong with that? Jess, he'd Leave for weeks without telling us where he went or how he got there! That's not okay. And mom would cry for nights in her bedroom, you were too little to understand, I stayed in her room for nights! You have no idea what it's like to see mom cry!"
"She cries in the Notebook." I retort.
"SHUT. UP." Evan says.
"You think this didn't effect us all? You don't want a bad influence around you, Jessica. It was so hard to watch him leave all those times, and not know if he's coming back." Mom sides with Evan.
"Of course! It's you too against me. Well sorry for loving the man who helped conceive me!" I storm out of the room, stomping on the stairs, and shutting my bed door with a huge thud.
'What do they know?' I ask laying down on my bed. 'Dad's going to be fine. he'll be back to normal in less than a month. He loves me. He loves us. He wants to be back here with us all.'
I pull the sheets up to my head and close my eyes tight. 'He loves me' keeps running thorugh my head. I grab the bottle of pain killers from my bed side table and throw two in my mouth, I swallow then and try to fall asleep. My head is pounding from all the yelling, or maybe it's because of all the thoughts runnning through my head.