Just Drive

Prolouge

*a month before summer*

Knock. Knock. Knock. I roll my eyes as I hear my mom knocking the door. I grab my speaker and raise the volume up higher. Maybe she'll take the hint that I don't want to talk to anyone right now. Knock! Knock! Knock!  This time the knocks were louder than the first time, but I still didn't feel like talking to her. I decide to concentrate on the lyrics of the new song that just started instead because that was way better than dealing with the bullshit situation that I was currently being faced with.

You've got a lot of nerve
I've got a little time
So try to make it hurt
It's nothing that I haven't heard a thousand times

Damn, if this isn't a perfect representation of what im going through right know, then I don't know what is. Bang! Bang! Bang! "Stephanie Lynn Rodríguez, if you don't open this damn door I swear to god that I am going to break through it," I hear my mom's voice threatening from the other side. I doubt that she would, since she lacks the physical strength, but I might as well get this argument out of the way.

"Fine I'll open the damn door," I yell out as I turn off my music and swing my door open. I swing it open to find my 5'1 mother standing with her hand on her hip and her face fuming.

She's pissed to say the least.

"Don't you dare talk back to me Stevie, yo soy tu madre y a mi me respetas, and watch your fucking language too," she snaps at me. I scoff at that, she really just told me to watch my language while she curses at me. Unbelievable.

"We are going to talk about this, and you are going to listen and understand. I don't want you to leave or have any of your outbursts until we finish this conversation, understood?"

"We already had this conversation. You yelled, I yelled, I said I wasn't going to do it and then I went to my room. I don't know about you, but to me that conversation has already passed," I shot back. There's no way in hell Im going to let her talk me into this.

"Actually, I yelled, and then you yelled, but that was the argument, the conversation hasn't happened. Now, te vas a quedar callada y me vas a escuchar," she says calmly, but I catch her eye twitching, her patience is obviously wearing thin.

"Why should I go with him during the summer? He's the one who fucking left and now I have to go to him. He's the one who made the decision to leave, if he wants to spend the summer with me then he can come to me, not the other way around," I respond with an icy tone, but I try to keep my tone down so that she doesn't take it as me being overreactive because of my anger.

"He's been putting an effort into being a better father. He's filled with guilt for leaving, and he's been spending months trying to get your forgiveness, and I really think that you need to sort out your problems with your dad. Plus, he's not the same person that he once was, we've been talking and we both agree that you should go visit during the summer."

I scoff at her sorry excuse of trying to convince me to stay with him during the summer. Does she expect me to go to his two story house in a nice suburban neighborhood, and see how happy he is, just to come back after the summer to my tiny ass two bedroom apartment that I share with my mom once he's done playing pretend at being my dad?

Once he's gotten his fill of being my dad for two months am I supposed to just come back and watch my mom struggle to pay the bills while he is in his nice ass house without having to worry about paying the bill in time so that they don't have to cut the electricity again?

She wants me to go and watch him eat dinner with his new kids, as he smiles at them and creates happy childhood memories in their minds, while mine were filled with his drunk ass barging into the house at midnight begging for my mom to give him another beer. I won't fucking allow it.

She speaks about him trying to be a good father, well a good father doesn't put their child through all the shit I had to go through at an early age. A good father wouldn't miss his daughter's life just because he couldn't man up and take the responsibility. He had his chance, and now it's just too late.

"He's spent months trying to get my forgiveness? That's not nearly enough time.  Ive spent years trying to figure out why he left, and you expect me to forgive him after a couple of months?"

The anger in my mom's eyes goes away, and is instead replaced with their usual look: sadness.
She sighs and gestures for me to come to her. I do and she pulls me into a hug, "Mija, you can't be bitter towards your father your whole life. If you are, then you will never truly be happy, and believe me you don't want that. You think that I wasn't mad at your dad? I was absolutely furious with him, but I had to let it go in order to find peace. All I want is for you to find peace too because you don't deserve to feel like you do. That's why I want you to go, so that you can try and find peace."

I look into her eyes, and see how tired she is. She's always tired, and it's his fault because he left her to raise a child by herself and because of that I just can't bring myself to forgive him. If that makes me a bitter person, then so be it.

"I'm not going, I just can't do it," I state firmly to my mom. I've said this a million times already, and I just wish that she would respect my choice.

"I've already bought the ticket, and its non refundable, I'm sorry honey but you're going." What the fuck? Then why the hell was she acting like I still had a choice in the matter?

"You'll thank me later," she says, but she's the only one who believes that. Because if there's one thing that I know for certain it's that I will never thank her for making me spend my summer with my pathetic excuse of a father.